on watches

learning from observation:

There are two things any guy will notice about another guy: (1) his watch (2) his car. Both these items are like the big elephants in the room, no need to discuss, its pretty glaringly obvious. Since you don't always see a guy's car when you first meet them, I'll focus on watches.

Watches serve two purposes. The first, based on a purely utilitarian perspective, is that a watch is only worn to tell time. The second is a status indicator. Chances are, if a person's watch isn't necessarily flashy, large, crammed with diamonds, or a name brand, that person simply thinks a "watch is a watch," no more, no less.

Timex Camper: $35. Purely utilitarian, simple design, cheap, and made for camping. Chances are, a guy wearing this watch is not interested in impressing you.

Panerai Luminor Marina: upwards of $4,000-$6,000. Classic 1950s Italian watch given to members in the military. Now sells to businessmen and anyone who wants a big old watch with big numbers.
Casio G-Shock: seen in Tokyo for around $90. Yes, these bold retro and neon colored statements tell a lot about the wearer.


A large watch, prominently displayed, is a sure-fire status indicator and confidence builder. It's a clear, initial symbol that exudes either confidence, style, cockiness, or "I'm not messin' around" attitude. For those who don't know about watch brands, keep in mind that if you see a name brand like Rolex, Omega, or a Panerai, a person's probably paying at least $3-4,000 for it. The type of watch tends to resemble a guy's personality, so be especially wary of oversized, jewel-studded time pieces. You're dealing with a very confident individual. If you're not into competition or listening to these strong personas, steer clear. On the other hand, a seemingly simplistic and understated watch, such as a Movado or a vintage Rolex portrays a more nuanced "sense" of class, but be careful, looks can be still deceiving. I'm not denigrating watch wears, but its important to know what types of watches certain guys will wear. Don't be intimidated by a guy wearing a large or expensive brand name watch, but do be wary of how to approach and deal with watch-wearing guys.

Watches, nowadays, seem to be more of an accessory than an essential utilitarian time keeper. The presence of one says much more about a guy than the lack of one. With this in mind, be aware of the power of wearing a watch, and be prepared to deal with a more confident individual if a guy does wear a watch.

As for me, I wear a fake watch procured in Manila, Philippines for around $20. The real thing costs like $3,000, but who wants to pay that much anyway??

what Chicago needs

I don't understand why we don't have one. If Chicago is truly a global city, certain global brands, such as Uniqlo awesomeness should be around town. No need for like 10 Urban Outfitters stores, their clothes are overpriced anyways. Sidenote: we're finally getting a Zara. Finally.

If Mayor Daley has the magical machine political power of sneaking into Meigs Field at night and bulldozing the whole runway, he can magically make all the litigation disappear for this tower.







Let's get these corporate litigation cases on unpaid loans done with. Chicago Spire FTW








Mad Men, set in New York City, is beginning to represent a slicker, more honed-in sartorial style for the American dress code. Despite its 1960s setting, the characters are undoubtedly ones to be envied today. New York City has Mad Men to rep for it. Chicago needs something new in the media to represent itself with.

the anticipated question

[caveat---this post is lengthy]

I can hear it now...

friend: "So, how was Japan?"

me: "It was fun."


Coming to Japan, my picture count (the number of pictures my camera has taken) on my Nikon D80 was at 14,000 something. Now, preparing to leave tomorrow morning, my picture count is at 30,500 photos. What I've experienced here in Japan will never be forgotten, those memories, always cherished.
____

Q: Has this place changed your life?
A: Yes, yes it has.
Q: How so?

The world has become a smaller place, this I know to be true. As of now, it's hard for me to realize the friendships I've made here. But, it does feel good to say, "next time I'm in _____, I'll definitely come visit you!"

Studying abroad for a semester here in Tokyo brought along with it a strange social dynamic. Friendships that normally take years to cultivate, are rushed together in hopes of finding traveling companions. The juggling of handling different groups of friends in the dorms, homestays, and new TUJ acquaintances can prove to be overwhelming. I swear, it was so hectic for the first couple of weekends, trying to figure out who to hang with, all through texting. This frantic rush towards "friendship" has also led to the quick realization of who you don't want to be around. People's true personalities come out in this mentality of "I'm only here for 4 months, so I'll do whatever I want." However, I'm glad I've made a great group of friends here. I now can proudly say I have someone whom I can commission artwork from, a friend who will do some investigative journalism for me, a friend who can do my taxes, a friend who can be nice and subtly cynical when she wants to be, and so on, and so forth. Who knew such talent and potential was crammed into Ontakesan dorms!
____

Q: Did you have any Japanese friends? What were they like?
A: Yes, I made some friends. Let's just say, they are some of the best people I've ever met. Period.

Specifically aimed towards Naomi, Satsuki, Manami, Ayane Yabui, Ayane Yamaguchi, Erika Kimura, April, Hannah, Kozue, and anyone else from TUJ: without you all, I would have been stuck at the コンビニ trying to figure out how to talk to the cashier. You've all encouraged me to go out and explore, meet new people, try new things, and just simply live life to its fullest. At first, I was intimidated at meeting Japanese students. I'm already shy enough as it is, and meeting new people is hard for me. But, thankfully, Clive and company took me along to cultural exchange meetups to meet all of you. And because of them, I've made some great friends here in Tokyo. I want to say thanks for helping me and the rest of the study abroad students with translating and speaking to the Japanese waiters so we could order food and have a good time. I remember a couple of times where no one spoke Japanese, and none of the staff spoke english. Those were some interesting times, to say the least. Without all of you, I would have never found those "hole in the wall" restaurants, karaoke places, and back alleyways of Tokyo and beyond.

私の日本人のともだｔちが大好きです！ありがとうございます！
____

Q: What's the hardest thing about living in Japan?
A: Not speaking the language and knowing that I'll never become "Japanese."

As much as I love Japanese culture, I know I can never be "Japanese." I will forever be a "gaijin," a foreigner in a foreign country. Our assistant dorm manager once told my friend a story of a girl who lived in the dorms last semester. She liked to dress up in the Harajuku style, wearing funky dresses, lots of black, lots of lace, crazy dyed hair, the works. However, when she tried to hang out with the real Harajuku kids and say "Hey, look at me, I'm one of you now," they rejected her. It doesn't matter who you are, if you're not Japanese, you will never be Japanese. Period. It sounds very cynical, but that's how Japanese view societal groupings: uchi vs. soto, inside versus out. Whoever is not in your group, in this case foreigners vs. Japanese, is considered "different" from you, to oversimplify the concept of uchi (うち）vs. soto（そと）.

However, putting this concept aside, I'm forever grateful for the Japanese friends I've made here, who took the time to go out of their way to practice their english skills and meet some random study abroad students :) I know I've already said this, but I'm so grateful I've met all of you.

Not speaking Japanese is a real pain for me, because I so badly want to learn it. Even after a whole semester of learning Japanese, I can barely read what's on billboards. Hiragana is a killer, because I can read the words, but I don't know what they mean. Katakana is difficult because, despite the fact that most of the Katakana words are english, like コーヒー(koohii/coffee), it takes forever to figure out what the word is. Kanji, the chinese characters, are straight up impossible. There are over 5,000 of them that an average Japanese person will learn. I know about 70. Time to start studying.
___

Q: So, what have you learned about friendship?
A: Real friendships last forever.

It sounds corny, it sounds like something written on the inside of a birthday card, but it's true.
I must admit, it's very hard to write about this subject, because so much of my experiences with the friends I've made here are intangible, sometimes bittersweet moments - impossible to write down, impossible to explain. Writing is an imperfect medium as it is, so I'll refrain from recollecting these memories. However, I will say this: I can gladly say that the friends I've made here have made my experience in Japan truly sublime. And when friends say goodbye, they're not really saying goodbye - it's more of a "see you soon." I will definitely see all of you soon (that means you: Clive, Steph, Ryan, Naomi and everyone else).
____

So, there you have it. A short conversation with myself. I hope to write more soon, post-Tokyo. I haven't had time to truly reflect on my experiences, so I will post more entries soon. Now, I must sleep, seeing as I have to wake up at 5am for my flight. I'm lugging two huge suitcases, a carry-on, and a backpack through a subway line, another train, and through the airport in the morning.

just do it

Advice: Take whatever life gives you, and turn it into how you choose to shape your world. Opportunities are everywhere, it just takes a little bit of searching to find what best suits you. And when you do find that perfect opportunity, take it, for life is too short for petty complaints and missed chances. Believe me, this whole journey in Japan has taught me this lesson, the easy, and hard way. Caveat: don't do anything that will haunt you in the future, because everything always comes back full circle.

I don't believe in chance. The world doesn't work that way.

these streets

[taken from my notebook]
Ontakesan/Kugahara/Yukigaya neighborhood at night

I will never forget these streets. Spotless black and grey asphalt, thick white lines demarcating narrow boundaries. Sections of red paint and 止 まれ indicating stopping points. Low guardrails providing space for a very narrow sidewalk area that really, is just part of the road. The stillness of the midnight air is so tranquilizing, relaxing. I could have strolled all night, not knowing where I would be going, streets, eerily familiar, winding up hills, flat sections disappearing into the night, crisscrossing each other. The maze is endless, so many places yet unexplored, anonymous houses and apartment complexes hiding away ordinary people in a not-so-ordinary city. So quiet, so beautifully quiet.

The narrowness of the streets, at least the suburban ones, really add to the feel of this area. Cars barely squeeze through some streets, people quietly walking along, off in their own worlds of work, home, and school. Trees spreading their branches onto the pavement, quiet suburban homes hopeless jammed together, street lamps illuminating stop signs, the occasional old person walking the streets, cool air. For some reason, these small streets make everything, and everyone, feel at ease, as if all the world's worries don't apply to these people, these houses, these streets. I hate the suburbs in the U.S. Here in Tokyo, I actually feel like I could actually belong somewhere. But, everyone has their doors closed to me, no children, no life in these streets.

[photos during the daytime, with considerably more activity in each photo]

ummm...

A lot of places in Harajuku, actually, almost every crazy gothic, lolita, etc. store pretty much hates people taking pictures of their clothes. This policy is probably because tourists/gaijin, like myself, would be tempted to go up and pose with the miniskirt made up entirely of belts and frilly lace. Oh, and that miniskirt would probably cost like $100.

4:22pm

[taken from my notebook] April 8

Golden hour. Today, I saw life go by in slow motion. The train ride home was filled with golden silhouettes of commuters traveling home, school boys trekking back, and buildings rushing past.

I finally went past the "point" of my neighborhood I've never gone past before. The neighborhood seems so tiny now, life, more simple. Gravitating towards some cherry blossoms, I discovered a park. As the wind blew some of the blossoms off the trees, I couldn't help but feel a little sad. Seeing the narrow road covered in pink and white blossoms almost gave me the chills. Such a beautiful season that ends too soon, just as you're about to enjoy it. In a way, I'm just starting to enjoy my time here. Yet, as the cherry blossoms begin their descent, I know I must also leave too.

at the helm

Displayed above, are controls that are standard on many Japanese toilets these days. On this particular toilet, the green button on the right shows a "flushing sound" option, if you feel so inclined to cover up your, ahem, bowel movements. The "spray" option in combination with the option of increasing or decreasing the water pressure of the "spray" is daunting to use at first, but, you get used to it. Some household toilets have automatic sensors in the bathroom which automatically raise the lid for you. The best toilets are the ones with heated seats...my personal favorites.

Ever since Japanese bathrooms started making the gradual shift from really scary looking squat toilets that are basically holes in the ground to "western" style ones, these nifty functions have set the standards for basic toilets. I must say, the convenience of these extra controls really does make going to the bathroom a little less boring. Button pressing was always something I liked doing.

the other side of town

Here's some views of Tokyo from Tokyo Tower at night, which is pretty much the Eiffel tower, only way taller and multicolored. If you can recall this post in feburary (http://theslightlyshy.blogspot.com/2009/02/toast-to-happiness.html), the Park Hyatt Hotel was located in Shinjuku. Look carefully at the photo below, and you can see a sign saying that Shinjuku is 6 kilometers away from this tower. The last photo shows just how far Shinjuku is and the the vastness of the Tokyo skyline - mind you, this is only the view facing west. There's more, much more, but my other photos kinda stink...

winding down

I have a lot of entries to post from my notebook, they shall be posted soon.

What I've realized about life, since being here in Tokyo, is that friendships and other personal relations take careful cultivation to maintain. Unfortunately, because of the extremely short time-span of this eventful semester, friendships and bonds that can take years to properly form are forced upon you as a "now or never" mentality. You're forced to undergo a frantic search for the "right" group of people to hang out with, meet some Japanese friends, and hopefully make the most out of who you're with here in Tokyo. At this point, this point of reflection before the last push for finals, you start to begin to realize how much effort it really takes to "socialize." School life, drama, all condensed into some sort of pseudo-campus and into a mere couple of months. Truly a grueling, yet satisfying experience, this whole "making friends" deal. I'm glad I've been able to meet the people I've met while here in the middle of this ever-moving metropolis.

to be discussed in detail, sometime later: For those of you still wondering what it's like here in Tokyo, I can describe this "place," this "city," if you can even call it that, as an everlasting gobstopper. You know, those hard round candies that reveal different colors as the various layerse dissolve in your mouth. Tokyo, at first glance, can be looked at as "otaku" central: Gundam Models, crazy Hentai, Harajuku girls, the best electronics money can buy, ridiculous everything. And, in fact, Tokyo is exactly like this. But, since living here for about four months now, Tokyo's true colors are finally starting to reveal itself. The living, beating heart of the city at night, the carefree office workers at Sakura parties, the seas of black suits, designer bags, and high heels, they're all hinting at something underneath the surface - they're all hinting at a culture totally different to the "West." What is the true nature of this beast of a city?

Updates: I won the TUJ Photo Contest with this photo:

this is what happens in photo class

Photo class: one of the most boring, yet ridiculously humorous classes I've ever taken. There's a lot of down time...

flashback: Skiiing in Nagano pt. 2

[pictures by Erika Gustafson]
Day One

Day Two
As you can see, day two of skiing was much more intense. All my skills I learned on day one were completely useless. The snow was faster and there was a thick fog hindering one's view to about 20 feet in front of you. A fine mist at the bottom fogged up my goggles while a cold piercing snow greeted me at the top. Either way, the weather was less than optimal. Concentration was key to survival down the slope. Yet, I still happened to fall about 15 times down the first slope of the day. Granted, it was a really really intense Red Course that pretty much went straight down, but still, 15 times is 15 times. Josh said that during one of my wipeouts, I tumbled over my head with my legs and skis crissrossed in the air as I fell down the slope. I remember that fall. It was epic fail. Overall, the second day was very difficult, but memorable. At the end of the day, the last two slopes I skied down were perfect: no falls. I'm quite glad I chose to brave the crazy conditions that day.

flashback: Yoyogi Park

taken from notebook [mar. 16]



Yesterday, Sunday. Sun all day, no clouds, perfect spring weather. Yoyogi park was teeming with all sorts of characters again. The boy with the guitar was still singing Beatles covers with a thick accent, the "greasers" still hanging out at the entrance. The only thing that seemed different about the park was the noticeable lack of pink blossoms on the far corner of the large field area. Oh well, cherry blossom season is about to start anyways.

Frisbee-throwing attendees: Ayane, Dan, Erika, myself. I must admit, I had a great time yesterday. Everything about Yoyogi was perfect, the weather glorious, the people fun and lively. The season of spring has officially begun, according to my senses. There's always that one specific day that rings in the entrance of a new season. A harbringer announcing the grand entrance of spring - this was sunday. Frisbee and friends; sun and sky; grass and green; laziness and laughter. I can't really say anymore than this .

Apparently, I can throw a frisbee without totally failing. It's good to know. We were all supposed to go to the St. Patricks Day Parade in Harajuku, hence Bernadette and Jillian showing up later, but, we missed it because of frisbee.

I also visited the Prada building in Aoyama, on the advice of Cyrus, via facebook. Thankfully, its easy to get to. A short walk down the main avenue in Harajuku, Omotesando-dori, and you'll arive in a much quieter, upscale area in about 10 minutes from Omotesando station. Ayane and I set out for the building around 4pm, the perfect time of day to see a nice sunset and watch the reflections on buildings turn from a blinding white to a golden yellow hue.

The building itself is small: 6 stories tall, on the corner of a small intersection. The lot is also tiny, but, it's Tokyo, so that property must have been ridiculously expensive anyways. Upon seeing the building, I was immediately reminded of the Beijing Olympics "watercube" complex. It had a couple bubbly looking glass windows which jutted out of the otherwise flat surfaced exterior. But the shape and bend of the windows really amazed me. The way in which the blue-tinted glass reflected the late afternoon light seemed to create a soft aura around the building. In short, this building was magnificent to look at.

flashback: skiing in Nagano

taken from my notebook, [first day of ski trip Mar. 19]

Intensity at its finest. Once I put on all my gear for the firs time, I knew I was in for a totally different, possibly devastatingly frustrating experience. Side note: my friend Hannah happened to be given the exact same jacket and snow pants as me. We were twins. The ski boots were definitely a new thing for me. Walking is so difficult because the boots, which are already tight fitting, are meant to protect you from breaking your ankles by not allowing you to move them. Basically, I felt like a robot, with movement restricted to large steps with my knees bearing the burden of movement.

And then, once we got onto the snow with all our gear, I learned that, in order to get to the ski lifts and get our ski passes, we had to ski down a slope. Actually, two slopes and a long, flat plain. At this point, I knew I was screwed, and I realized that my day would be very, very, very long. Locking my ski boots into my skis, I remembered "pie" position and went down the slopes.

Five seconds of no control, then skiing fail. But, I realized that skiing is easier than it looks. Perri had the unfortunate luck of "skiing" down the first slope and running right into a Japanese person, skis tangled in a mess. awkward, at best :)

Needless to say, despite some epic failures on my part, I was actually able to ski down the green courses by afternoon. To be able to fly down a mountain full of snow is such a rush. The feeling of controlling your new found snow-carving units was so exhilirating, so different. I now know why people love to ski. It's fun, period.

My gullible self allowed me to be tricked into going to the top of the mountain with Erika, Thomas, and Dan Dat. Bad idea. Once we got to the top, sun setting over the mountainous Nagano region, I realized that the ski signs pointed in two directions: left = black diamond course, right = red course with moguls. Looking down the mountain was already daunting. Knowing that I had to ski down the monster was something totally different. I was extremely angry for about three seconds before reminding myself that I paid for the trip, and that the ski lift didn't allow you to go down. I stuck my ski poles in the ground and said, "let's go."

Epic fail. I skiied for about two seconds before losing balance because of the moguls and the steep grade of the course. My fall, quite intense. Once I got up, I would ski again for a couple seconds, then fall, sometimes losing my skis in the process. I can safely say that some of my falls were about 20 to 50 feet of just sliding and tumbling before attempting to stop myself. Thankfully, Erika and thomas were really helpful and were there to pick up my skis. Still though, it sucked to wipe out because it takes so much energy to recover, get up, get your skis that fell off, lock your boots into the skis, and finally, prepare for launch. It sounds depressing and disheartening, this whole wipeout thing. But every fall made me more determined to get back up.

more to come...

belated pictures from Japan

I realized that I haven't posted in a while...but, I've been writing in my small notebook almost everyday. Here are some pictures of my recent adventures in Japan. I'll post another entry tomorrow, I promise!

delish

[taken from notebook]

NEW Green Tea Oreo Mcflurry: First Impressions

• tastes like a green tea latte from Starbucks
• the ice cream part is superb, not too cold, and its more on the creamy side when the flavor hits the tongue
• oreo bits don't hinder taste

Overall: very tasty, well worth the wait. In addition, the presence of a coupon saved me 40 yen. Unfortunately, I know I probably shouldn't be having this treat all the time, despite its relatively cheap price. Also the small size is quite disheartening.

update: just finished, want more.

oh, how far we've come

[excerpts from notebook]

Oh, how far we've come, how far I've come. From the first night working at my uncle's restaurant, hearing jazz billow out of the bar room along with the puffs of cigarette smoke, to the Park Hyatt Hotel Jazz Bar in Tokyo. Everything about me has changed, except for my love of Jazz. I remember Josh saying how much he prefers the little dive bars in Tokyo as opposed to the massive clubs. I probably prefer smaller joints as well, seeing as I started off listening to Jazz in a square shaped bar with dim red lights, cigarette smoke, and a jazz trio that always had a glass of wine as their tip jar on top of the piano. Maybe I should search for another place to remind of me of those days. Or maybe, it'll be impossible to replace what's been lost, so so long ago.

Saturday evening I went to the Park Hyatt Hotel again, this time to hear some live Jazz at the 52nd floor "New York Jazz Bar." Met up with my friend Josh at Shinjuku station before heading out. The drinks: Scarlet Martini, one for the each of us, and two Mojitos with Shiho leaf. The Mojitos actually weren't that strong, but the Shiho leaf really brought out a minty flavor once I crushed a few with my stirrer. My god, it was expensive, but the Jazz was alright in the end. Josh pointed out that there were a lot of gaijin around, but then again, it's a hotel. The view, as anticipated, was stunning yet again. I can't say anything momentous happened that night, just a couple drinks, laughing and good times, etc. But now, I can finally say I've gone to a Jazz Bar in Tokyo.

on a bad day

Above is a short video of my usual morning commute on the JR Keihin Tohoku Line. As you can see, its quite an intense commute. At first, I hated the fact that I had zero room on the train. I still kinda loathe taking the trains, but I've gotten used to the crowds. Japan train platforms used to have "train pushers" to help cram people into the train, but, as you can see in the video, commuters tend to just cram themselves in now. I've seen train pushers, but they're usually never around when I'm commuting.

0:13sec Note: the amount of people on the platform
0:34sec Note: the almost empty platform
0:41sec Note: example of people cramming themselves onto train

Today's journey to school was particularly ugly. It was raining all day, and with so many commuters, all with long umbrellas and soaked shoes, the windows on the trains fog up and it gets really muggy and humid on the trains. Along with the usual glum looks on half-awake salarymen and near silent stations and train rides, the presence of rain just reinforces the dull commute. Oh yeah, there are a ridiculous number of people on the train, if you haven't noticed. At the end of the video, you can see people who are literally smashed up right up against the doors. Note: the doors on the trains have no sensors, so if your jacket gets stuck, well, too bad...

Riding inside the train during rush hour is quite an atmosphere. No one talks. In fact, its considered impolite to talk on the trains, especially during rush hour. If there's room, people are on their cellphones watching TV or emailing. I've become accustomed to being able to take powernaps on the train - standing up. I'd rather close my eyes than look up at the advertisements or catch the stares of other commuters who think I'm staring at some gorgeous woman's boobs or something. When your head isn't able to move at all, and your field of vision is limited to a well-dressed and pretty office lady smashed up against you, its very hard to appear as if you're not a creeper. Looking up at the LCD screen advertisements is one way to look uninterested. But, as I've stated earlier, I prefer the powernap. If there's no room, which is typically the case during the morning commute, people spend their time closing their eyes and taking quick naps while attempting to maintain their balance when the train jerks forward or stops. It's quite a feat actually, trying to balance yourself without holding onto anything. Any unanticipated train movements can send a whole wave of people all leaning forward, some losing their balance and throwing themselves onto others. All this while being unable to move your arms or turn your head.

I remember one train ride in which I was crammed against one of the doors opposite to the train platform. I put my headphones on, switched on my iPod, and closed my eyes for a quick nap. By the time the passengers on the next station got on, I was squished even more, with no room for me to adjust my headphones. But, I was too tired at this point to actually open my eyes to see how much more people had crammed onto the train. All I knew from my other senses was that some person's body and bag were squished up against me. When i finally opened my eyes from my quick 2 minute "nap," i realized that a girl's face was literally right in front of me. Her nose was about 2 inches from mine. At this point, I closed my eyes again. I can definitely say it was an interesting commute that morning. Welcome to Tokyo.

on a normal day

Above is a short video of my commute on the Tokyo JR Keihin Tohoku line. Considering I was leaving at around 12:40pm, the station and train platform is quite empty. I'll post a video tomorrow showing how bad the commute can get during the morning rush hour. It's bad. Before the train doors close, a little musical jingle plays in the background, notifying the passengers that the doors are about to close. That's the music you hear in the beginning of the video.



I got a new pocket notebook today. I love it.
[taken from my notebook]

Mar. 6th 1:41AM

Torn, between action and non-action; torn, between guts and heart; torn, between loneliness and companionship. This is the state I am in.

Today's weather was absolutely glorious. I woke up with my feet already bathing in warm, 11AM sunlight. The weather for the day was confirmed by Ben, who just came back from running. Finally, a day to clear my mind, a peaceful catharsis. Considering the fact that I have less than two months here in Tokyo, I've started my blitz towards accomplishing what needs to be done. Yet, at the same time, I want to relax. The cherry blossom season starts soon - something I've been dreaming of experiencing for a while now, especially with this gloom of winter finally beginning its exit. I want to do so much, yet, I also want things to flow naturally and take things one step at a time. But two months is two months. Nothing can change this fact, and quite frankly, there's still a lot on my to-do list...

12:41pm

Updates from last night:
Rainy day, along with an unusual cold front. My super-ghetto folding umbrella finally broke on the way to class. Luckily, my friend Erika gave me her umbrella to keep, which it turns out, was given to her for free from a random guy. The umbrella, a full-length kind, had a heavy bottom grip, but the balance wasn't too bad. It's not too top heavy, where the umbrella threatens to lean forward, and its not too bottom heavy, where the umbrella threatens to tip backwards. Just right. Anyways, I digress. It also snowed in the evening. Slushy clumped snowflakes hung onto my jacket and left huge droplets on my newly procured umbrella. For some reason, I actually preferred last night's snowfall as opposed to normal rain. Snow is much more peaceful - a quieter force of nature. Thankfully, the clumps of snow fell harmlessly to the ground, only to melt instantly and create a reflective medium for the storefront lights lining the streets. A mix of blue, white, and orange reflections with the occasional shadow of umbrellas led the way home.
[Today]

Before I took a nap in the library today, I asked myself this question: do most people here in Tokyo dress well because they want to stand out and look fashionable, OR do people dress well because they don't want to stand out? I can recall a certain Japanese idiom that says, "the nail that sticks out always gets hammered down." It seems that every woman here has a standard set of shiny black high heels, pencil skirts, and a designer bag. Louis Vuitton's presence here cannot be underestimated. There's a reason why the Louis Vuitton flagship store here in Tokyo is the larger than the one in Paris...Even the fringe edges of fashion, Tokyo's "Harajuku Girls," Cos players, and the "Lolitas" all place an exquisite amount of detail into whatever they wear. Considering the strong mentailty of maintaining harmony within a group and society as a whole, does dressing well equate with the fear of public criticism and the stigma of being different? Does "fashion" in Tokyo take on a different subconscious meaning? These are questions I don't have answers to.

I can attempt to offer one explanation for everyone's impeccable dresscode here. The notion of waga and mama, which literally translate as the untrained self/selfishness, is frowned upon in Japanese culture. Individualism is not a concept that is highly regarded in Japan. Rather, a larger emphasis is placed on maintaining group harmony. Deviation from one's social groups leads to scorn and being labeled as "different" - not something one takes pride in. Back at UIC, I had a long conversation with a Japanese foreign exchange student. He offered a metaphor to explain this Japanese mentality. He said to imagine everyone facing north, but you were the only one facing south. The pressure to face north, like everyone else, can be overbearing and extremely uncomfortable. So, place yourself into a Japanese girl's shoes. If your friends encourage you to get a new purse or a new pair of shoes that they really like, what would you, as a Japanese girl, do? The temptation to conform is stronger than what you would expect...

Or maybe, people just like to look good. I dunno.

chasing the fleeting sun

[taken from my notebook]
I'm writing this as the sun sets on the Tama river. A friend from the dorms told me a couple weeks ago that she went running and randomly came upon a big river. Reminding myself that today would be the only sunny day this week, I decided to venture out and find it. Here were the directions given: follow the train tracks. So i did.

4:30pm
Setting out with my camera, which barely had any battery power, and some apple strudel pastry procured from the convenience store, I followed the train tracks towards the setting sun. My goal was to catch the sunset on the river. The trip itself took longer than expected, and all the while I kept expecting the sun to set before I got there. In my mind I kept yelling "wait, I'm almost there Sun, don't leave without me," as I ventured along the rail line.

Time was of no consequence, so long as I caught the sunset on the river. And as the glimmer of the afternoon rays on apartment buildings began to fade, I finally reached a raised section of green grass. I knew I had made it. The river itself was not breathtaking. The view, mediocre at best. But still, I was calmed by the river's presence. Such a vast amount of space in a city that was never generous with it in the first place. Green grass. Baseball fields, tall buildings in the near distance. And, the sun. I caught up to it just before it called quits for the day.

On the banks of the Tama river, time: unknown
Now, as the sun has all but disappeared, leaving slivers of light to fend for their own and cast their last glimmers on distant buildings, I can finally hear the gentle whisper of this river. No horns, no people, just wind and water - with the occasional rumble of commuter trains in the distance. I never thought it possible, but this city has revealed so many quiet pockets of repose. A soft reminder that not everything in life can, or should be taken, at a blistering pace; a soft reminder that not everything in life is meant to pass you by. This is one of those spots. A man to the left of me is looking out on the river, taking in the view as the breeze becomes more of a cold chill. Despite my Chicago-conditioned, cold-weather prepared mentality, I grow cold. My hands are officially numb now, and my peach drink wasn't nearly as fulfilling as I had intended it to be. On the way back, the one thing that was missing from my mini adventure had finally revealed itself in the last minutes of daylight. Mt. Fuji, its silhouette tracing a soft edge across the pink sky, finally revealed itself.

Nightviews

[Seeing as I've only two months left here, I'll try to be posting a new journal entry, or something, everyday]
"The city looks like a single gigantic creature - or more like a single collective entity created by many intertwined organisms. Countless arteries stretch to the ends of its elusive body, circulating a continuous supply of red blood cells, sending out data and collecting the old, sending out new consumables and collecting the old, sending out new contradictions and collecting the old."
- Haruki Murakami

I've always been fascinated with Tokyo by night. Should perpetual darkness ever come about, I'd choose to live here. I guess I share Haruki Murakami's fascination with the night and darkness. It brings about what people try so hard to cover up during the day with business suits, makeup and Louis Vuitton bags.

From the raucous streets of Shinjuku and Shibuya to the eerily tranquil business districts near Tokyo tower, the frenetic pulse of this living, breathing city temporarily calms for the evening. It's as if the whole city has been holding its breath underwater, and finally surfaced for another gasp of air. A brief escape before plunging back into reality. The uptight, restrained business etiquette and deference to superiors during the day is gratefully shed at sundown. Refuge is sought in the form of a late dinner and restrained alcohol sessions at the izakaya with officemates. The trains, transporting the half-awake, silent commuters during the morning, change their function to ferrying the lucky individuals who've made it through the day. The newly done hair and perfume in the morning make way for the mild drunkards with loosened ties and warm hearts at night. "Sumimasen" makes way for "Jaa ne" as friendly waves are exchanged on the platform. Packs of cigarettes are bought and smoked. Those awaiting the caress of their loved ones are rewarded for their toils. Rest makes its humble entrance.