Another world
(Written, ohh, last week sometime. Why do I post hardly anything I write?)
Adam's in New York this week for workish purposes. I had originally planned on joining him, but since I'm trying to pay off my student loan by May, and since I'm also loading up my savings account in anticipation of us moving in June, I decided not to go. Seeing as there's an arctic chill there this week, I may have ended up either a.) staying inside and reading books, or b.) going shopping and spending money on clothes I don't need, simply for the fact that the H&M dressing room is a warm and blindingly bright place. Neither would have been a good use of my time. So, greetings from Atlanta, as usual.
This afternoon, while I worked on some reading comprehension tests and ate a very uninspiring banana, Adam had the audacity to call me from what is surely one of Broadway's best snack-selling establishments: Beard Papa's, a Japanese import that sells the best chou cream (cream puffs, but better) on the planet. Because trying to write reading comprehension tests is a good way to get one's mind to wander, I started thinking about all of the restaurants and stores from Japan that have migrated to New York in the last few years:
Gyu-Kaku - At which a barbeque pit in the middle of your table allows you to cook your own meat / vegetables / tofu / dessert.
My first Gyu-Kaku experience. My roommates had meat and marshmallows. I had veggies and blood orange juice. 'Twas fun. M-G Town, Chiba, Japan - March 2004
Beard Papa's - Cream puffs of crack.
UniQlo - The Old Navy of Japan.
Takashimaya - Upscale department store that originated in Kyoto. I once bought a pair of shoes at one of the Tokyo locations and felt like a very fancy bunny.
Takashimaya Times Square - Shinjuku, Tokyo, Japan. I remember the first time I saw this building -- October 23, 2003 -- and the last time I saw this building -- October 24, 2004, when the above photo was taken. On those bookend visits, the coldness of the place made me want to weep from homesickness, either because I had just arrived, or because I was just about to go home. I thought, what business does Japan have co-opting the name "Times Square" and turning it into a warren of elevators and clothing boutiques? But all the other visits in between, it was a farking fun place to go. Floors 13 and 14 are stuffed with restaurants.
Books Kinokuniya - Overseas, they specialize in English books for non-English-speaking countries. I spent many happy hours on the fifth floor of Kinokuniya at Takashimaya Times Square. In the American locations, I hear they have a lot of manga and pretty paper.
Yoshinoya - Gigantic fast-food chain famous for their "beef bowl," which looked to be tripe, onions, and rice. I don't know. Once I watched Adam eat one; somehow, he survived. I created my own vegetarian take on it that I can confidently say is very tasty.
--
I haven't been hit with a good, satisfying jolt of culture shock in a long time, and I don't know if it's a wise idea to try to carve out a week or two in this stretch of work and writing and planning and frugality to do something crazy. A part of me says, yes, of course, there is always room for craziness! But another part of me crosses her arms and reminds herself that there may only be a few more months of this sameness, and that, if anybody, it's Adam who has more of a reason to be restless, since he's lived in this declining apartment complex for as long as I've known him. A few more months and we could be living a life that's culture-shocking in its own way. I'm just impatient.
I'm also very self-conscious about having a life lived quietly. A big part of why I remember Japan so fondly and why I still tell so many stories about it is that my life there always gave me something to write about. I could sit down with my paper journal and scribble out five or ten pages in the hour before bed. I could flop onto my futon and warm my lap with this lovely computer and have my biggest LJ-related effort be the selection of one topic out of the seventeen interesting things I'd done and seen since my last update. On some level I'm worried about not being creative enough to come up with ideas that have nothing to do with my physical placement in the world -- Emily Dickinson existed within four walls, and that danged Paolini kid had but eleven or twelve years of conscious memories when he wrote his dragon story. But on another level, I know that I'm not the type of writer who's contented and inspired within a room of my own. I need to get out of my comfort zone, I need to be all the time curious and flummoxed and slightly frightened. It's not happening here. It never has. There was more life packed in to one of my days in Tokyo than there is in a week here in my current existence, and as I become more accustomed to the quietude, I spend more time turning inward. At work, I swear, my voice gets quieter every day, and people smile at me in passing and I don't remember to smile back until I've already paced by in my latest Heels of Death. There I am, poised in pointy shoes, smiling at a wall.
Adam's in New York this week for workish purposes. I had originally planned on joining him, but since I'm trying to pay off my student loan by May, and since I'm also loading up my savings account in anticipation of us moving in June, I decided not to go. Seeing as there's an arctic chill there this week, I may have ended up either a.) staying inside and reading books, or b.) going shopping and spending money on clothes I don't need, simply for the fact that the H&M dressing room is a warm and blindingly bright place. Neither would have been a good use of my time. So, greetings from Atlanta, as usual.
This afternoon, while I worked on some reading comprehension tests and ate a very uninspiring banana, Adam had the audacity to call me from what is surely one of Broadway's best snack-selling establishments: Beard Papa's, a Japanese import that sells the best chou cream (cream puffs, but better) on the planet. Because trying to write reading comprehension tests is a good way to get one's mind to wander, I started thinking about all of the restaurants and stores from Japan that have migrated to New York in the last few years:
Gyu-Kaku - At which a barbeque pit in the middle of your table allows you to cook your own meat / vegetables / tofu / dessert.
My first Gyu-Kaku experience. My roommates had meat and marshmallows. I had veggies and blood orange juice. 'Twas fun. M-G Town, Chiba, Japan - March 2004
Beard Papa's - Cream puffs of crack.
UniQlo - The Old Navy of Japan.
Takashimaya - Upscale department store that originated in Kyoto. I once bought a pair of shoes at one of the Tokyo locations and felt like a very fancy bunny.
Takashimaya Times Square - Shinjuku, Tokyo, Japan. I remember the first time I saw this building -- October 23, 2003 -- and the last time I saw this building -- October 24, 2004, when the above photo was taken. On those bookend visits, the coldness of the place made me want to weep from homesickness, either because I had just arrived, or because I was just about to go home. I thought, what business does Japan have co-opting the name "Times Square" and turning it into a warren of elevators and clothing boutiques? But all the other visits in between, it was a farking fun place to go. Floors 13 and 14 are stuffed with restaurants.
Books Kinokuniya - Overseas, they specialize in English books for non-English-speaking countries. I spent many happy hours on the fifth floor of Kinokuniya at Takashimaya Times Square. In the American locations, I hear they have a lot of manga and pretty paper.
Yoshinoya - Gigantic fast-food chain famous for their "beef bowl," which looked to be tripe, onions, and rice. I don't know. Once I watched Adam eat one; somehow, he survived. I created my own vegetarian take on it that I can confidently say is very tasty.
--
I haven't been hit with a good, satisfying jolt of culture shock in a long time, and I don't know if it's a wise idea to try to carve out a week or two in this stretch of work and writing and planning and frugality to do something crazy. A part of me says, yes, of course, there is always room for craziness! But another part of me crosses her arms and reminds herself that there may only be a few more months of this sameness, and that, if anybody, it's Adam who has more of a reason to be restless, since he's lived in this declining apartment complex for as long as I've known him. A few more months and we could be living a life that's culture-shocking in its own way. I'm just impatient.
I'm also very self-conscious about having a life lived quietly. A big part of why I remember Japan so fondly and why I still tell so many stories about it is that my life there always gave me something to write about. I could sit down with my paper journal and scribble out five or ten pages in the hour before bed. I could flop onto my futon and warm my lap with this lovely computer and have my biggest LJ-related effort be the selection of one topic out of the seventeen interesting things I'd done and seen since my last update. On some level I'm worried about not being creative enough to come up with ideas that have nothing to do with my physical placement in the world -- Emily Dickinson existed within four walls, and that danged Paolini kid had but eleven or twelve years of conscious memories when he wrote his dragon story. But on another level, I know that I'm not the type of writer who's contented and inspired within a room of my own. I need to get out of my comfort zone, I need to be all the time curious and flummoxed and slightly frightened. It's not happening here. It never has. There was more life packed in to one of my days in Tokyo than there is in a week here in my current existence, and as I become more accustomed to the quietude, I spend more time turning inward. At work, I swear, my voice gets quieter every day, and people smile at me in passing and I don't remember to smile back until I've already paced by in my latest Heels of Death. There I am, poised in pointy shoes, smiling at a wall.