J191 Tuesday October 30th
This week was to be a 4-day week. My company saw fit to give us Saturday off, a ludicrous luxury. I'm not quite sure what I'll do with my long weekend, but it will be wonderful, regardless. Today was somewhat busy with 4 classes, more than my normal Tuesday load, but not terminally hectic. I wrote a little, updating my blog, but there's lots more where that came from [EDITOR'S NOTE: Hahaha, yeah. Sorry about that. The G.R.E ate up all of my free time]
J192 Wednesday October 31st
Happy Halloween!
I had been planning on going for a run, but I woke up with an aching ankle. I did my best to stretch it out, but it wasn't wanting to cooperate.
A normal Wednesday load, which meant a 4-hour block at the end of the day. Killer. During my break in the afternoon, though, I paid my bills. I also put in an hour of G.R.E. study at the end of the day.
J193 Thursday November 1st
A lighter day than the previous two, thank goodness. I can't wait for the weekend; 3 days will feel like an eternity. I've been mulling going to Tokyo on Sunday for fun, but nothing solid has formed in my head. M-sensei and I are kicking around the idea of beach walking on Monday.
I ran out of rice the night before, but I didn't have the chance to pick any up before the end of work. I tend to get out of my job around 9:30, and Ito Yokado and Sakura City close at 9. Luckily, there is a great food shop called...uh...Food Shop...on my way home from work. I tend to duck in once or twice a week to pick up groceries, to supplement big food hauls from the weekends.
This evening I was lucky; a huge 5kg bag of rice for a surprisingly low price of 2500 yen. I lugged it to the checkout counter and then to my bike. Enjoying a home-made dinner of veggies and my new rice, I put in another half-hour of G.R.E. study.
J194 Friday November 2nd
I talked with lots of people this morning, including E.J. for the first time in a few weeks. He's got finals looming as the semester comes to a close.
Work was a one-two punch of two three-hour blocks of classes, but I survived well enough. I stayed a little late to help close up, chatting with a few students as well as the staff. On my walk back I ducked into Joycom again to put a few hundred yen more into D&D. I didn't have much chance to experiment with the game when K and I played it the week before. I wondered, given the length of the game as well as the ability to input one's name (more than the three-character initials most arcade cabinets allow) if the game had a character-save feature. Alas, my hopes were dashed by the harsh reality of the situation. Still, that did give me a good idea for a future arcade game.
Many Japanese arcade games have character save features. More accurately, they have profile saves. The newer games have slots where you can insert a magnetic-strip card that holds your unique information. Your game record, your nickname and initials, even stuff like high scores, is stored on the card. You can go to any arcade in Japan that has the machine you play and insert your card, and your profile pops up. It's terribly convenient.
Upon arriving home I found that an old high school friend of mine was planning to come to Tokyo. Josh Weeks was his name, a classmate of mine from many a year ago. He and a friend were coming to Japan during the next week. I offered to show him around and provided my cell number and email.
I also played lots of Halo 3. The day before, the free month of Gold-level XBox Live membership that came with my hardware had run out. I found, to my dismay, that Halo 3's multiplayer requires a Gold-level membership to play. I found solace in playing a few campaign levels, but felt a little stung. I don't regret my purchase; Halo 3 continues to be a shining beacon of gameplay and fun, but this development helped me decide to buy the Orange Box, rather than, say, another few months of XBL Gold.
J195 Saturday November 3rd
A wonderful, lazy day. I woke up late, a rarity, and talked with friends for a few hours. I ment to go to Uchihara, where dwells an actual mall, but I was waylaid by slack. I did a load of much-needed laundry whilst browsing the internets. I had the feeling of forgetting something all day, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I had lunch at Kumamoto.
That evening was Claire's going-away party. I took with me my only cigar, a Cuban roll of fine tobacco, to smoke in honor of Claire's farewell. I'd enjoyed my cigarillos, purchased alongside the cigar, earlier in the year, but I didn't make a habit of them. I had been saving it for a special occasion, and I figured the departure of one of my friends from Japan was certainly deserving of a little combustion.
Hiro, primary owner, operator, bartender, and impresario of G-Bros, assisted me in the proper preparation and smoking of my cigar. It was savory and dark, a flavor far removed from the thinner cigarillos. They were a more sharp, sour tasting breed. This was more mellow and rich, though not without its own heavy bite. I don't know how I managed to do it, but the cigar developed a distinct angle as I smoked it, one edge of the tobacco being burned more rapidly than the other.
Many, many drinks were had and stories told. I held an impromptu edition of Toast Club, scribing the relevant data (attendees, toasts, etc.) in my Moleskine. I will carry them back to America, when the time comes, to record them faithfully in the master book.
The party was long and bittersweet. Claire is a wonderful person, and I really enjoyed her company. In the end I said my own private goodbye outside the heat and noise of G-Bros, under the cool, clear night sky. I biked home, smelling of cigar smoke, a little sad and rather tipsy.
J196 Sunday November 4th
I almost decided to not go to Tokyo today. I got up a lot later than I'd planned, and I felt a little down from the whole 'Claire is leaving soon' thing. Still, I called Brain up, and he convinced me to come on down. I phoned up another friend, Tiffany, a teacher for my company who works in Yokohama, a big satellite town of Tokyo. She helped me find a place to stay the night; the Yokohama International Center Hotel.
I made a reservation, checked up on the train times, and dashed to the station to catch the next Super Hitachi. During the hour and a half train ride down to Tokyo, I spied two things of interest. One was a lone parachutist, falling slowly like a big polyurethane dandelion. She/he was drifting across a big expanse of nothing, a field that lay between the ocean and mountains into which two Hitachis could have fit. They weren't very high up, maybe half a kilometer at most, but their view must have been spectacular.
The other thing I saw was a parade. Or a procession. A portable shrine was being carried along a road that lay near the tracks. A dozen men and boys were giving it their best, hefting the intricate lattice of pine and oak lacquer. In my mind's eye I could see the kami enshrined within the man-sized box, easily weighing in at half a ton, bouncing along jovially, joining in the celebration in a manner that fitted its station. Boisterous laughter or serene amusement? It didn't matter; the people were having fun, and that warmed the heart, no matter what one's metaphysical disposition may be.
Brain and I met up at Ueno, where he accompanied me to Kawasaki (between Yokohama and Tokyo, where the International Center was) to help me check in. It was a bit of a detour, an hour one way, but catching up with Brain is a long-term activity, so we were entertained. The International Center itself was a rather impressive building, a modest complex of buildings surrounded by parks and green space, set a 10-minute walk away from the station. Brain and I walked through a bustling marketplace, a bazaar if I ever saw one, that was packed with people. Cyclists weaved their way through the throng of people, deftly avoiding injury to both personage and parcels.
The International Center had a hotel built in to its overall layout. The room was Western-style, with a bed rather than a futon. The room, and the 50 or so siblings it had, were able to be occupied much like an apartment; many gaijin or transient Japanese use rooms like these to have a nice place to stay for longish periods of time.
After checking in, Brain and I made our way to Akihabara. We walked up and down the strip, looking through shop after shop. I once again priced micro laptops, my interest in a miniaturized portable computing solution still present. Brain informed me of the EEE-PC, a staggeringly cheap (and small) micro that is built off of a custom Linux environment.
He also told me about the new Gundam series, Gundam 00. I'd heard that a new series had come out, but I hadn't seen anything about the plot or characters. His summary sold me, and I made a note to myself to download the translated episodes once I got back home.
After Akiba, and a stop by Star Kebab, the best Turkish kebab joint in Japan, as far as I'm concerned, Brain and I headed to Shibuya. We got there around 7PM, but most of the shops were starting to close. We were trying to get into a multi-store skyscraper, but the guards had it in their minds that it was closed, despite the signs in plain Japanese stating the stores inside were open until 9PM, every day. We found an entrance where the guards were not so strict, and ascended an elevator to an HMV media store. The rest of the evening was spent browsing movies and music.
Around 9 or so Brain and I decided to call it a night. We went our separate ways, he to his apartment and I to my hotel room. The train ride wasn't as long as I remembered, and I walked through the now-empty bazaar with purpose, eager to get to my rented bed. The day had been long, and I was tired. Alley cats and nocturnal motorists crossed my path a few times, along with some late-night pedestrians. Hitachi quiets down considerably at night, but Tokyo and its suburbs are almost never totally quiet.
I always wonder what they do, these night-dwellers. Why does the woman in front of me carry bags of groceries, despite every shop I pass being closed? To where does the young couple putt on their moped? The moon looks down on us all, she alone knowing our destinations.
J197 Monday November 5th
Oh, one thing I forgot to mention. The 40th Annual Bi-Yearly Tokyo Motor Show has been going on, and today was one of the last few weeks it was going to be open. It had been opened to the public a few weeks prior, and a steady stream of people, car-otaku and families alike, had been coming to see the next year's auto-mechanical wonders.
I met Matt and Dan at Ueno station early in the morning, and we all proceeded to the site of the TMS. Along with my tickets, each a reasonable 2000 yen or so, I purchased an eco-friendly canvas bag, a sturdy contraption that is emblazoned with the show's logo. Into it went every promotional book I received that day.
And what a great number I received! Every major, minor, and sub-minor automobile manufacturer had a booth there. Motorcycles, cars, trucks, and bizarre mixes between the three were everywhere. Concept cars ranged from the marginally advanced to the downright futuristic. There was one series, by Nissan perhaps, that was a modular series of vehicles. A person-sized vehicle that could couple with a larger shell, turning two of the devices into a 2-person car, as well as a boat platform.
Extreme flexibility and space conservation was another order of the day. Several vehicles crammed a full (American) sized car's worth of stuff into things barely larger than a Mini-Coop. One concept, a van, was right up my alley. A 2-seater whilst driving, the back section pulls out a good two meters, expanding the car's interior while exposing the now-extended "pod"'s guts. The pod can be ordered to fit a large amount of gear, ranging from refrigeration units for produce storage to diving gear. The mockup's interior featured a rather neat looking computer terminal, too.
There was so much more. I could write a book on just this one day alone, but for the sake of brevity, let me tell you the basics. Japan is a technofetishist's wet dream. This was a convention about new cars. The new cars were jaw-dropping.
Alas, I have no pictures what so ever! My camera, faithful companion all these months in the land of the rising sun, decided to die on me in the second motorcycle booth. A scant dozen images, and the poor guy just gave out. I swapped batteries, swapped memory cards, I shook and prayed and cursed, but nothing would coax my camera back to life. It refuses to turn on or extend its lens assembly; whenever I try to do so, I hear a small servo-mechanical whine and then nothing. I think a gear or something similar has gotten discombobulated, resulting in mechanical trouble.
Luckily, Matt is an amateur photographer. His camera blazed throughout the conference, and between he and Dan, a ton of digital pictures were taken.
The evening wore on, and despite a delicious lunch bought from a Pakistani vendor, we were tired, hungry, and desirous of home. And, yet, there was one last item on the agenda; our farewell to Claire. The young Scotswoman was leaving for her homeland the next day, and though we'd all said our good-byes, we had planned on having dinner with her that night.
Alas, the demons of time and space were to rob us of our final rendezvous. We had miscalculated travel times and the final train home, and simply put we could not both see Claire off and get back home that night. Over much hemming and hawing, Dan and I decided to head back home, while Matt stayed behind to visit Claire and see her off in the morning. Dan and I both had work the next day, while Matt was still unemployed.
We said our good-byes, Dan and I, to Claire via cell phone. Perhaps it was better that way.
The Fresh Hitachi, the last train from Ueno to our homes, ferried us northward through the dark fields of the Kanto plain. Under the clear skies, so full of stars, our train sped, taking us back to the quiet of sleepy Ibaraki prefecture. We both disembarked at Hitachi, but Dan, having parked his van at the station, had a few minutes more to go; he lives in Ogitsu, a train stop north.
I biked back home past darkened shops and cozy, light-oozing homes. My apartment was waiting for me, as I'd left it two days prior. Remembering now the sleep I enjoyed that night makes me tired, and so I close this entry to sleep, again. Perchance to dream :)
Showing posts with label akihabara. Show all posts
Showing posts with label akihabara. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Wednesday, August 15, 2007
Vacation Recap!
J110.1 Friday August 10th (Part 2)
My last post was written in the middle of the day, so a few more things happened. I met people!
On my way in to the Internet cafe, I struck up a conversation with an Italian gentleman by the name of Fabio. He used to be a table tennis player for quite some time, but now works for an advertising company. Hearing his Italian origins prompted me to mention my own heritage. For those unaware, I am 3rd generation Italian on my mother's side; my great-grandparents were born in Sicily but immigrated to America before my maternal grandfather was born. So, yay Italian genes!
I've noticed, however, that when I mention my Italian heritage to an Italian person, or someone similarly-descended, it's like I announce that I'm their long-lost brother. A switch goes off, and they turn from jovial, good-humored individuals to very generous, super-friendly people. They go from nice to amazingly nice.
Fabio and I had both purchased an hour's worth of time, and agreed to meet again once our time was up. I relished the air conditioned interior of my cubicle and the respite it gave my already-aching feet and legs. My last post was made at great leisure.
When my hour was up, Fabio was waiting in the lobby for me. We settled our bills with the staff and walked a while, exchanging stories. He told me of his life as a table tennis player for a team in Japan some years ago. I told him of my graduation from college and my job as an English teacher. When I mentioned I had no plans for the rest of the day, he insisted that I accompany him. He was in the market for some digital cameras, both for personal use and as gifts to friends, and we set about to find some good deals.
We walked back toward Akiba station, ending up in a deceptively large electronics store. Fabio educated me on the differences between several models, and while he haggled I browsed the laptop section. Japan's shops offer a large variety of portable computing solutions, and I've had my interest piqued by micro laptops. My current machine is a good computer, but it's somewhat bulky (as laptops go) and it's my only system. It's my link to the outside world, and I only take it out of my apartment when it's absolutely necessary.
I'd love to have a small, rugged machine that I could take with me when I go out. Nothing fancy. Nothing I'd be able to game on. Just something with basic internet connectivity, wireless if at all possible. A small platform upon which I could write, or check email, or display documents and other media to friends and associates. An actual mobile media platform. But not a micro computer. Not some tiny, 7-inch display thing that more resembles a chunky cell phone. A Sidekick or Blueberry would be nice, but either would be too small for my purposes.
The store I was in, and many others in Japan, offer many different models of small laptops. Their capacities range wildly; some use top-of-the-line processors, others use ones half a decade old. Some have only 10 gigabytes of hard disk space, while others boast quadruple that number.
Fabio suggested a few models, citing Toshiba as a good manufacturer. He also recommended another model, one that I scratched the name down, but I can't recall at the time of this writing.
Sorry, tangent.
Fabio purchased two cameras from the store, and we set out into the growing twilight. Akihabara is also known as Electric Town, so night never really comes. The sky darkens, of course, but the streets and alleys are lit by ten thousand shades of neon. LEDs blink from shop windows, warning passerby of alarm systems. Everywhere people check their email or the time from PDAs and cell phones. Akihabara is never dark.
We both felt the pang of hunger, and Fabio offered to buy me dinner at a nearby burger joint. This wasn't fast food per se; the hamburgers were actual grilled meat rather than a lamp-warmed discus of compressed "meat".
We chatted about life, as Italian folk so often seem to do. He shared some insightful advice with me, beseeching me to find my path in life and follow it with gusto. Being undecided about your future, he said, was a tragic thing. Find your goal, and then take steps to reach it. Common sense advice, perhaps, but something you don't hear every day.
In the middle of our meal, the seats next to us (we were sitting at a pseudo-bar in the middle of the eatery) two other foreigners sat down. They were both NOVA teachers from Canada. One, who's name I cannot recall (so let's call him Bob) was a self-proclaimed aboriginal Canadian, hailing from a reservation near Toronto. The other, Nick (that is his name) was of European decent, from a town near the reservation. They were friends, Bob having come to Japan with NOVA two or three years ago, and suggesting Nick come a few years after. Very similar to how I got this job, with my friend Tara suggesting I apply, given her overall happiness with the job.
Nick, Bob and I began to talk. Bob was leaving for Canada the next day, and was gearing up for a sort of last huzzah. Nick was along for the ride. They also work (in Bob's case, worked) in NOVA's Akihabara branch. They both were also unrepentant nerds, easily in my own league of fandom, which was amazing. They teach in a place that is so well-known amongst the Japanophiles of Earth that many would do...questionable things...to attain their position. Nick swore up and down that his post was attained through random chance, and that he in no way assassinated a high-profile target to get it. Honest.
Fabio had finished his meal by the time the two had sat down, and he decided to move on. We swapped numbers as he left; he was going to Kyoto, and wanted me to get in touch with him when I got there. I thanked him for the meal for what was probably the eighth time, and we parted ways.
Nick, Bob, and I soon engaged in full-blown nerd speak. Some of you may have experienced this phenomena. I know I've mentioned it a few times before, but I think I'd like to go into more detail.
Nerds know one another. There is a...sixth sense, I guess you could say...that we have developed. It's a survival mechanism, one developed so as to identify allies in a battlefield rife with hostile opponents. It's subtle things; body language, stance, eye contact. There are obvious signs, of course. One could wear a shirt proclaiming them to be a flaming Dr. Who fan, which is a dead giveaway. But those of us who must suppress our nerdity, lest it become a distraction or a hindrance to 'normal' social contact, must utilize well-honed, social minutiae, ninja-like in subtlety.
When this sense pings, when we catch the vibe, we begin tentative contact. An initial probe, to see if our reading is correct. One usually starts with a quote or reference to something nerdy, but not something super-obscure. This is testing the waters. A Monty Python quote will do, or if you're not adept, something from Star Wars. Most people have seen these media, and have enjoyed them, but nerds have a fundamentally different response to these stimuli. Non-nerds will laugh and say "Hey, that's from Monty Python, isn't it? That was a funny show."
A nerd will say something like "Funny, but I find the Cheese Shop sketch to be better." or "Dude, Star Wars was awesome until the second trilogy."
Success! Initial contact has been established! Warm up the engines!
What follows next is something akin to when a modem connects to the internet. You know that high-pitched squawking your computer made, and then that hissing sound? Well, nerds are like that. We engage in this...information exchange. Through carefully selected references, commentary, and conversation branching, one can communicate volumes about their particular style of nerd. Some nerds only enjoy science fiction, others fantasy. Some enjoy mostly books, while others are suckers for movies. Some enjoy tabletop gaming, or board gaming, or only video gaming. Some enjoy one of these intensely, while others sample from them all.
This establishes common ground. It lays the ground rules for the conversation. You know what to and not to talk about. If you like the latest Star Wars trilogy (and the devil take you if you do) and your newfound friend does not, you know not to talk about it, lest you actively detract from the conversation.
This is what Bob, Nick, and I did. For about 30 minutes, we talked at rapid speed, informing one another of our own tastes, likes, and dislikes. We discussed many things, mostly politics, and decided to quit the eating establishment and get some fresh air. We wandered Akihabara together, finding the RPG-specialized Yellow Submarine. Come to find out, Nick is a very, very big tabletop gaming nerd. This was a joy to discover, as I have been hurting for a good RPG fix, and have made little progress getting a group together. He and I share a love for many systems, though his knowledge is far more deeper than mine. I'm more of a breadth guy, while Nick's love of a few systems has granted him very intense knowledge of those handful. I, for one, salute him. Plus, he really likes Exalted, and that makes anyone awesome in my book.
We walked and walked, talked and talked. At a model shop, Bob and Nick had to call it a night. There were plans a-foot to rent movies and watch them with friends before Bob had to leave, and I didn't wish to interfere with their merriment. I decided to call it an early night, even though it was hardly 9 PM. I'd been walking all day with a full load, and was in desperate need of sleep.
I decided to return to the Internet Cafe. They had sleeper cubes, and was lucky enough to get one for the night. It was around 4000 yen for 12 hours, enough time to let me sleep in the next morning. Showers were available, but there was some sort of...difficulty...that I couldn't quite understand. My Japanese still is far from perfect, and many Japanese people aren't able to speak at a low enough level for me to understand them easily. Nevertheless, I found a place to sleep for the night.
A sleeper cube is a simple thing. It's a little longer than a normal cube, and instead of an office chair, it has a tiny futon. The futon rests on a large wooden cabinet and can ratchet in the middle, allowing the user to surf the internet from a relaxed, reclined position.
No sheets, blankets, or pillows were provided, but that was no problem for me. Something relatively soft and an air conditioned room was perfect for me. I used my handkerchief as a blindfold; the lights were dim, but still bright enough to make sleep difficult. I woke up several times through the night, but always managed to get back to sleep soon. In all, it was a restful night, and I was ready for the next day's adventures.
My last post was written in the middle of the day, so a few more things happened. I met people!
On my way in to the Internet cafe, I struck up a conversation with an Italian gentleman by the name of Fabio. He used to be a table tennis player for quite some time, but now works for an advertising company. Hearing his Italian origins prompted me to mention my own heritage. For those unaware, I am 3rd generation Italian on my mother's side; my great-grandparents were born in Sicily but immigrated to America before my maternal grandfather was born. So, yay Italian genes!
I've noticed, however, that when I mention my Italian heritage to an Italian person, or someone similarly-descended, it's like I announce that I'm their long-lost brother. A switch goes off, and they turn from jovial, good-humored individuals to very generous, super-friendly people. They go from nice to amazingly nice.
Fabio and I had both purchased an hour's worth of time, and agreed to meet again once our time was up. I relished the air conditioned interior of my cubicle and the respite it gave my already-aching feet and legs. My last post was made at great leisure.
When my hour was up, Fabio was waiting in the lobby for me. We settled our bills with the staff and walked a while, exchanging stories. He told me of his life as a table tennis player for a team in Japan some years ago. I told him of my graduation from college and my job as an English teacher. When I mentioned I had no plans for the rest of the day, he insisted that I accompany him. He was in the market for some digital cameras, both for personal use and as gifts to friends, and we set about to find some good deals.
We walked back toward Akiba station, ending up in a deceptively large electronics store. Fabio educated me on the differences between several models, and while he haggled I browsed the laptop section. Japan's shops offer a large variety of portable computing solutions, and I've had my interest piqued by micro laptops. My current machine is a good computer, but it's somewhat bulky (as laptops go) and it's my only system. It's my link to the outside world, and I only take it out of my apartment when it's absolutely necessary.
I'd love to have a small, rugged machine that I could take with me when I go out. Nothing fancy. Nothing I'd be able to game on. Just something with basic internet connectivity, wireless if at all possible. A small platform upon which I could write, or check email, or display documents and other media to friends and associates. An actual mobile media platform. But not a micro computer. Not some tiny, 7-inch display thing that more resembles a chunky cell phone. A Sidekick or Blueberry would be nice, but either would be too small for my purposes.
The store I was in, and many others in Japan, offer many different models of small laptops. Their capacities range wildly; some use top-of-the-line processors, others use ones half a decade old. Some have only 10 gigabytes of hard disk space, while others boast quadruple that number.
Fabio suggested a few models, citing Toshiba as a good manufacturer. He also recommended another model, one that I scratched the name down, but I can't recall at the time of this writing.
Sorry, tangent.
Fabio purchased two cameras from the store, and we set out into the growing twilight. Akihabara is also known as Electric Town, so night never really comes. The sky darkens, of course, but the streets and alleys are lit by ten thousand shades of neon. LEDs blink from shop windows, warning passerby of alarm systems. Everywhere people check their email or the time from PDAs and cell phones. Akihabara is never dark.
We both felt the pang of hunger, and Fabio offered to buy me dinner at a nearby burger joint. This wasn't fast food per se; the hamburgers were actual grilled meat rather than a lamp-warmed discus of compressed "meat".
We chatted about life, as Italian folk so often seem to do. He shared some insightful advice with me, beseeching me to find my path in life and follow it with gusto. Being undecided about your future, he said, was a tragic thing. Find your goal, and then take steps to reach it. Common sense advice, perhaps, but something you don't hear every day.
In the middle of our meal, the seats next to us (we were sitting at a pseudo-bar in the middle of the eatery) two other foreigners sat down. They were both NOVA teachers from Canada. One, who's name I cannot recall (so let's call him Bob) was a self-proclaimed aboriginal Canadian, hailing from a reservation near Toronto. The other, Nick (that is his name) was of European decent, from a town near the reservation. They were friends, Bob having come to Japan with NOVA two or three years ago, and suggesting Nick come a few years after. Very similar to how I got this job, with my friend Tara suggesting I apply, given her overall happiness with the job.
Nick, Bob and I began to talk. Bob was leaving for Canada the next day, and was gearing up for a sort of last huzzah. Nick was along for the ride. They also work (in Bob's case, worked) in NOVA's Akihabara branch. They both were also unrepentant nerds, easily in my own league of fandom, which was amazing. They teach in a place that is so well-known amongst the Japanophiles of Earth that many would do...questionable things...to attain their position. Nick swore up and down that his post was attained through random chance, and that he in no way assassinated a high-profile target to get it. Honest.
Fabio had finished his meal by the time the two had sat down, and he decided to move on. We swapped numbers as he left; he was going to Kyoto, and wanted me to get in touch with him when I got there. I thanked him for the meal for what was probably the eighth time, and we parted ways.
Nick, Bob, and I soon engaged in full-blown nerd speak. Some of you may have experienced this phenomena. I know I've mentioned it a few times before, but I think I'd like to go into more detail.
Nerds know one another. There is a...sixth sense, I guess you could say...that we have developed. It's a survival mechanism, one developed so as to identify allies in a battlefield rife with hostile opponents. It's subtle things; body language, stance, eye contact. There are obvious signs, of course. One could wear a shirt proclaiming them to be a flaming Dr. Who fan, which is a dead giveaway. But those of us who must suppress our nerdity, lest it become a distraction or a hindrance to 'normal' social contact, must utilize well-honed, social minutiae, ninja-like in subtlety.
When this sense pings, when we catch the vibe, we begin tentative contact. An initial probe, to see if our reading is correct. One usually starts with a quote or reference to something nerdy, but not something super-obscure. This is testing the waters. A Monty Python quote will do, or if you're not adept, something from Star Wars. Most people have seen these media, and have enjoyed them, but nerds have a fundamentally different response to these stimuli. Non-nerds will laugh and say "Hey, that's from Monty Python, isn't it? That was a funny show."
A nerd will say something like "Funny, but I find the Cheese Shop sketch to be better." or "Dude, Star Wars was awesome until the second trilogy."
Success! Initial contact has been established! Warm up the engines!
What follows next is something akin to when a modem connects to the internet. You know that high-pitched squawking your computer made, and then that hissing sound? Well, nerds are like that. We engage in this...information exchange. Through carefully selected references, commentary, and conversation branching, one can communicate volumes about their particular style of nerd. Some nerds only enjoy science fiction, others fantasy. Some enjoy mostly books, while others are suckers for movies. Some enjoy tabletop gaming, or board gaming, or only video gaming. Some enjoy one of these intensely, while others sample from them all.
This establishes common ground. It lays the ground rules for the conversation. You know what to and not to talk about. If you like the latest Star Wars trilogy (and the devil take you if you do) and your newfound friend does not, you know not to talk about it, lest you actively detract from the conversation.
This is what Bob, Nick, and I did. For about 30 minutes, we talked at rapid speed, informing one another of our own tastes, likes, and dislikes. We discussed many things, mostly politics, and decided to quit the eating establishment and get some fresh air. We wandered Akihabara together, finding the RPG-specialized Yellow Submarine. Come to find out, Nick is a very, very big tabletop gaming nerd. This was a joy to discover, as I have been hurting for a good RPG fix, and have made little progress getting a group together. He and I share a love for many systems, though his knowledge is far more deeper than mine. I'm more of a breadth guy, while Nick's love of a few systems has granted him very intense knowledge of those handful. I, for one, salute him. Plus, he really likes Exalted, and that makes anyone awesome in my book.
We walked and walked, talked and talked. At a model shop, Bob and Nick had to call it a night. There were plans a-foot to rent movies and watch them with friends before Bob had to leave, and I didn't wish to interfere with their merriment. I decided to call it an early night, even though it was hardly 9 PM. I'd been walking all day with a full load, and was in desperate need of sleep.
I decided to return to the Internet Cafe. They had sleeper cubes, and was lucky enough to get one for the night. It was around 4000 yen for 12 hours, enough time to let me sleep in the next morning. Showers were available, but there was some sort of...difficulty...that I couldn't quite understand. My Japanese still is far from perfect, and many Japanese people aren't able to speak at a low enough level for me to understand them easily. Nevertheless, I found a place to sleep for the night.
A sleeper cube is a simple thing. It's a little longer than a normal cube, and instead of an office chair, it has a tiny futon. The futon rests on a large wooden cabinet and can ratchet in the middle, allowing the user to surf the internet from a relaxed, reclined position.
No sheets, blankets, or pillows were provided, but that was no problem for me. Something relatively soft and an air conditioned room was perfect for me. I used my handkerchief as a blindfold; the lights were dim, but still bright enough to make sleep difficult. I woke up several times through the night, but always managed to get back to sleep soon. In all, it was a restful night, and I was ready for the next day's adventures.
Friday, August 10, 2007
And now we go to Nigel, live in the field...
J110 Friday August 10th
Hah! Internet cafes rule! I'm an internet cafe high above Akihabara, having found it after nearly an hour of searching.
I've been hanging out in Akiba for most of the day, just walking around and checking out shops. It's kind of funny, but because I can't read Japanese, and they don't sell a lot of stuff that has English language options, I really can't buy anything in Akihabara. Nerd capital of the world. Go figure.
It's still fun to walk around, though.
All the lockers filled up at the train stationb efore I got there, so I've been lugging my duffel around with me. I didn't pack super-heavy, but it is a good 15 extra pounds of weight my shoulders and back could do without hauling around. Still, I'm doing okay.
I'm not sure where to go next. I want to hit Asakusa, a big temple district, and I'd like to get out to Gainax if I can. Gainax may have to wait until tomorrow, though. I also want to hit Harajuku tomorrow.
Tonight I plan on staying at a capsule hotel. I don't have reservations for a standard hotel, nor could I afford to stay at one. I've found some good lists of capsule hotels in the Tokyo area, which I plan to use tonight. Most of them have shower facilities, which will be essential to prevent an international incident.
If this post comes across as poorly spelled, I apologize. I don't have my normal spell checker on this machine, and the whole thing is in Japanese. I'll check it when I get done.
I bought an hour here, which will probably come out to be 600 yen or more, depending on the specifics. Drinks are free, but everything else is Tokyo prices, which is to say prohibitively expensive.
I've been trying to get in touch with Brain today, to no (current) avail. I figure he's probably still at work. I'd love to bum around with him tonight and/or tomorrow.
Anyway, I know this entry isn't as polished as mine normally are, but I figured I'd do the best with the time I have. I think I've got about 35-40 more minutes to go on the clock. I need to check up on hotels in Kyoto, either an actual hotel, a capsule, or a ryokan (traditional Japanese Inn).
Hah! Internet cafes rule! I'm an internet cafe high above Akihabara, having found it after nearly an hour of searching.
I've been hanging out in Akiba for most of the day, just walking around and checking out shops. It's kind of funny, but because I can't read Japanese, and they don't sell a lot of stuff that has English language options, I really can't buy anything in Akihabara. Nerd capital of the world. Go figure.
It's still fun to walk around, though.
All the lockers filled up at the train stationb efore I got there, so I've been lugging my duffel around with me. I didn't pack super-heavy, but it is a good 15 extra pounds of weight my shoulders and back could do without hauling around. Still, I'm doing okay.
I'm not sure where to go next. I want to hit Asakusa, a big temple district, and I'd like to get out to Gainax if I can. Gainax may have to wait until tomorrow, though. I also want to hit Harajuku tomorrow.
Tonight I plan on staying at a capsule hotel. I don't have reservations for a standard hotel, nor could I afford to stay at one. I've found some good lists of capsule hotels in the Tokyo area, which I plan to use tonight. Most of them have shower facilities, which will be essential to prevent an international incident.
If this post comes across as poorly spelled, I apologize. I don't have my normal spell checker on this machine, and the whole thing is in Japanese. I'll check it when I get done.
I bought an hour here, which will probably come out to be 600 yen or more, depending on the specifics. Drinks are free, but everything else is Tokyo prices, which is to say prohibitively expensive.
I've been trying to get in touch with Brain today, to no (current) avail. I figure he's probably still at work. I'd love to bum around with him tonight and/or tomorrow.
Anyway, I know this entry isn't as polished as mine normally are, but I figured I'd do the best with the time I have. I think I've got about 35-40 more minutes to go on the clock. I need to check up on hotels in Kyoto, either an actual hotel, a capsule, or a ryokan (traditional Japanese Inn).
Wednesday, July 4, 2007
Can't sleep....clown will eat me.
J82 Thursday, July 5th 2007
Happy 4th of July to the other side of the world! For me, the 4th was yesterday. No celebrations were had here, but in my heart I thanked America for being so awesome, even if the current state of affairs is a bit mucky. I also wore my blue shirt and a red tie, so I was 2/3 patriotic.
Yet another fun-filled weekend was had last weekend. I'm getting closer to actually making more than one post a week. It's tricky to get into the habit of writing every day.
Saturday the 30th (of June)
G-Bros was hosting a private party, so the Gang had no where to go! Well, that's not true at all. Hitachi is crammed full of bars, you just need to know where to look. K found a nice place called The Second Earth. It had a little of everything. The front of the store was like a party-themed conbini, with drinks and snacks and widgets available for purchase before or after one came to the bar. The bar was nice, a solid thing of blonde pine, but the Gang opted to settle in one of the tables squeezed in the back.
As an aside, if you ever decide to come to Japan, realize that you will devote a lot of your brain power to wondering how they managed to do things. How did they move that huge table into this tiny space? Those decorations, are they purposefully set there, or have they accumulated by some bar-logic of kitch-growth?
Ahem. The Gang had already ordered food by the time I got in, but I had made dinner for myself before I left, so it was all good. We all had milkshakes, not wanting to get too blitzed before the night truly began at Bros. I had a berry blend, after sampling some of Claire's (Scottish girl) which was heavenly.
We stayed at Second Earth for a few hours, talking about this and that. My bike's rear tire had deflated (and still is, as of this writing, flat) due to a technical mixup I had with a recently-acquired bike pump. That conversation was fun. I can't recall much else of what we talked about. The upcoming trip to Tokyo, for Clive's birthday, was discussed briefly.
Around 11:30 or so we relocated to G-Bros. On the way out, while we settled our tab, one of the Gang, Matt, bought a truly ridiculously massive jar of peanut butter, citing the lack of said ridiculous size anywhere else in Japan, and his love for the stuff. Go Matt.
We got a back table at Bros and the preliminary birthday celebrations were had. Actually, if I recall, the Clive and (Amity) Mike both had their birthdays on Saturday, with the Tokyo trip being a post-birthday bash of extraordinary magnitude. Cake was had, the G-Bros tradition of having a champaign cork shot at your backside was carried out in good humor, and a good time was had by all.
I was introduced to Toni, another Amity teacher. She and I quickly entered Geek Out mode and spent the next two hours communicating at near-light speed about a wide variety of topics. Always delighted to make a new geeky friend, we called the evening quits around the same time and walked each other home, until we had to go our separate ways, chatting all the time.
Back at home, I settled into sleep, eager to start the next day's journeys.
Sunday July 1st
Made myself some breakfast after a leisurely wake up and walked to the train. Clive caught up with me on the way in, and we realized we were cutting it a little close. As we neared the station, K phoned us and informed us of the impending departure of our train. We dashed with renewed vigor, myself being unable to hit the ATM on the way out of Hitachi, and managed to get to the platform on time.
The ride down was fairly sedate and uneventful. Fun conversation was had, about not much at all (mostly catching one another up on world events, rumor, and discussion). Myself, K, M-sensei, and Clive were the passengers on this, the first wave of the Gang down to Tokyo.
We decided to spend our pre-party hours in Akihabara, nerd-mecca of the Earth. This marked my 5th time in the district where anything, and I do mean anything, devoted to Nerdism may be bought, sold, traded, or stolen. I add stolen merely to bring awareness of the plight of the modern Akihabara-goer, who is plagued by many the cutpurse, sneakthief, or otherwise dastardly and uncouth rogue keen to lighten the shopping bags of the unsuspecting otaku.
The first order of business was food, as many of us had grown peckish on the ride down. The attempt to locate a suitable food joint was to prove somewhat frustrating, given the sheer diversity of our group (a midwesterner, a westerner/southerner, a south-Londer and a manchesterman) gave us all different appetites. After a solid half hour of wandering (past a large number of places that smelled superbly delicious) we settled on a kebab stand in what felt like the heart of Akihabara.
It was heaven. Delicious, juicy steak bits atop rice. The other fellows had a larger set, with half a chicken in addition to their rice/meat combo. We savored our delicious, protein-filled lunches. Three of us got items to go, and proceeded to investigate the shopping district for various and sundry purchases. M-sensei was in search of an MP3 player. Clive was looking for PSP media. K sought an adapter cable for a hard drive and a DS.
We walked up and down the strip, aided in our ambulations (ahh, alliteration) by the fact that most of the roads had been closed to road traffic, allowing pedestrians to cross at their leisure. After a few shops, I guided the group to the Yellow Submarine shop I'd found my last time here, with E.J. We met another group of Psi Us, against all probability, who included in our quick dialog directions to a tabletop gaming store. We had been there before, and had marveled at the row upon row of RPG books, in Japanese and (to our amazement) English.
This time around it was the other's turn to gawk at the tiny dollop of gaming squeezed into a space slightly larger than my apartment. I perused the English book section and found that they had a copy of the Dungeons & Dragons Dungeon Master's Guide for Edition 3.5. It's price was a steal; only 2,500 yen. Converted to US Dollars, that is slightly over $20. After a short period of consideration, I snapped it up, realizing that a) I had no paper copies of *any* D&D books here, b) I don't even have the 3.5 DMG in America, and c) it was stupid cheap.
My backpack aglow with creative power and my new purchase, we strove ahead to Yodabashi Camera, stopping briefly to take in an adult novelty shop that was 4 stories high (that will be a tale to tell in person, as this is a family-friendly blog). Yodabashi Camera is, quite possibly, the biggest electronics store in the world. It's footprint is massive, easily several acres, and it's 7 or 8 stories tall. Huge.
We all came in, but after seeing the lines M-sensei and Clive decided to head outside to relax while K and I searched for his purchases. In the end, after lots of wandering and questioning and waiting in lines, we emerged victorious. K purchased a pink DS Lite and the perfect adapter cable (Serial ATA to something) for his system.
And then, we decided to go to Hiro-o, the location of the evening's main attraction; the Tokyo Absolut Ice Bar.
The Absolut Ice Bar is a bar, wherein one can purchase and enjoy adult beverages, that is made of ice. It is run by the makers of Absolut vodka. Shockingly, the adult beverages you enjoy at the Absolut Ice Bar are only those made by Absolut. Everything is ice; the walls, the furniture, the bar, even your glass, is made of clear ice. It is Flipping Sweet. Also, very cold. The whole place is kept at a toasty 5 degrees below zero, give or take, so long-term exposure is not advised. The bar staff provides you with a super-awesome space blanket poncho, complete with thick gloves and fur-lined hood, to keep you from dying of exposure. You enter the bar via a small airlock, really just a closet-sized room with two doors, so as to minimize heat bleeding.
As I said before, you can't spend too long in the ice bar, or else your body starts to become too cold. More immediately (to the hip, globe-trotting jetsetter mindset) is the limited amount of space within the bar itself. The constant refrigeration cost must be staggering, and thus the bar itself is quite small, perhaps twice the size of my apartment in square footage. This all boils down to two simple facts. One, you must have a reservation for the Ice Bar, 45 minutes max. Two, it's quite expensive. 3,500 yen gets you in the door and gives you one drink (and one ice-glass. If yours breaks or melts, you have to buy a new one to drink any more). Additional drinks are at a whopping 1,200 yen a pop, easily double the price of a beer at a normal bar.
Enough technicalities! We had a blast! My initial group arrived first, and spent a few minutes outside waiting for the rest of our group to show up. As our time window opened, we decided to go on in and wait for them inside. We paid the staff, slipped into our silvery ponchos, and headed into a frozen wonderland.
The ice is very clear. I'm not sure how one makes ice this clear, but there's no mistaking the clarity. There's a few cracks, some air bubbles and other signs of impurities, sure, but you can see through all of the ice. Really pretty. The bar was lit with soft white and blue lights diffused and filtered through the walls of ice, casting a soft, almost twilight glow through the small room. It was quiet, too; there was club music, but it was kept at a low level. The tables and chairs are all low to the ground, mostly to help with structural integrity I suppose, but there was a human-sized ice sculpture in the middle of the room to enjoy. Built into the walls were several modular ice sheets that had been engraved from the other side. What one sees, looking at these ice sheets from the bar side, is a reverse bas-relief. In ice. Quite beautiful. The sculptors included an ice-plaque, declaring that they also were responsible for one of the Ice Hotels. (Imagine the ice bar mentality enlarged, as if by a mad genius, into a hotel. Where you can sleep.)
The other half of our party arrived a few minutes after we did, and we proceeded to get down with our bad selves. Drinks were had, myself enjoying an Absolut Viking (Absolut vodka with grape juice...mmmm) and an Absolut Polaris (can't remember what was in it, but it went from yellow to blue and tasted like bananas and cream).
Many, many pictures were taken, and many jokes about the cold were told. One of the walls was carved into a mini luge for one's ice glasses, so the occasional brave soul would sling their drink through the wall via a winding downward slope. The glasses would become stuck, from time to time, much to the despair of the luge-ee and the amusement of the audience.
I met a couple in the bar, one of the few patrons not associated with our own birthday celebration. I cannot recall where they were from beyond "Tokyo", but they apparently were sharing their second date together. The male of the duo assured me, in a conspiratorial whisper, that they would enjoy certain adult activities later in the night. Hilarity.
As our time at the Ice Bar drew to a close we found ourselves the only patrons therein. The staff let us stay a little longer, to our simultaneous joy and frigidity. After an hour of freezing cold, we doffed our ponchos and wandered into the heat of a Tokyo summer night. Feeling the difference between the bar and the heat and humidity of the outside world was like being hit by a car made of swamp water. Warm and sticky and thick heat wrapped around us. It was quite a sensation.
It was now Monday.
Monday July 2nd
Our group wandered toward Roppongi Hills, the section of Tokyo where one may find a traditional "night club" scene. Never having attended such places in the States, it was a new experience for me (albeit not one I relished). We walked through and past a new tower, freshly constructed in the heart of Tokyo. It had some interesting neo-Egyptian architecture. Looked like something out of a movie.
Finally, we made it to Roppongi. For those of you who enjoy the night club scene, the next segment may hold particular mirth, given my utter inexperience with such activities. Keep in mind that I have, quite literally, never done this sort of thing before.
We walked along a strip of neon-daylight, propositioned at every street corner by handfuls of club barkers. This club was the best, no that one. This one has food, while this one has girls. The others of our group seemed giddy with choice. I simply saw an endless row of bars wherein there was space to dance. We finally settled on one, called "Club 911". At least the music was nice. We all proceeded to drink and dance, as conversation was impossible given the intense volume of the dance jams. I was flagging, my second wind having come and gone, and entered a sort of fugue state of existence. I recall dancing a few times, to the best of my ability, and enjoying a few (slightly cheaper, but not by much) drinks from the bar.
Several hours passed in this manner, until about 4ish in the morning. We quit the club, and after much hemming and hawing, the group split. My chunk was heading home, whilst the others were heading out to find more clubs and take in the fish market. I would have liked to see the fish market myself, but I was feeling pretty crappy, and I didn't want to do much more than sleep.
What followed was a blur of subway stops as we caught the first trains of the day. We worked our way through the Tokyo Underground, our group shedding numbers as others decided to do their own things while in Tokyo. K and myself were the last of our original "going the hell home now" group left when we finally got to Ueno, gateway station to Hitachi and all points northward.
K and I found a Limited Express train and settled into some booth seats to sleep the way home. Our train departed, and we began our long journey home. We slept and woke intermittently, our bodies demanding sleep but unable to relax completely. I kept waking up at just the right times; when some business men decided to share our booth, when we had to switch trains halfway through our ride, when we finally arrived at Hitachi. Hours after we'd left Ueno, almost a day after we'd set out from Hitachi, K and I made it back home.
K rode his bike home, whilst I caught a cab. I grabbed a quick shower to rinse the club gunk from my body, and collapsed into bed. It was not yet 9 A.M. I slept until 5 P.M. I began to write this blog post, but given the sheer volume of information it contains, it was written over the space of three separate sessions, stretched out over the course of a week's time.
And that is my adventure from last weekend, gentle reader. From June to July, it was a birthday celebration of epic, and quite chilly, proportions.
I shall write the next entry now, for this weekend. Huzzah!
Happy 4th of July to the other side of the world! For me, the 4th was yesterday. No celebrations were had here, but in my heart I thanked America for being so awesome, even if the current state of affairs is a bit mucky. I also wore my blue shirt and a red tie, so I was 2/3 patriotic.
Yet another fun-filled weekend was had last weekend. I'm getting closer to actually making more than one post a week. It's tricky to get into the habit of writing every day.
Saturday the 30th (of June)
G-Bros was hosting a private party, so the Gang had no where to go! Well, that's not true at all. Hitachi is crammed full of bars, you just need to know where to look. K found a nice place called The Second Earth. It had a little of everything. The front of the store was like a party-themed conbini, with drinks and snacks and widgets available for purchase before or after one came to the bar. The bar was nice, a solid thing of blonde pine, but the Gang opted to settle in one of the tables squeezed in the back.
As an aside, if you ever decide to come to Japan, realize that you will devote a lot of your brain power to wondering how they managed to do things. How did they move that huge table into this tiny space? Those decorations, are they purposefully set there, or have they accumulated by some bar-logic of kitch-growth?
Ahem. The Gang had already ordered food by the time I got in, but I had made dinner for myself before I left, so it was all good. We all had milkshakes, not wanting to get too blitzed before the night truly began at Bros. I had a berry blend, after sampling some of Claire's (Scottish girl) which was heavenly.
We stayed at Second Earth for a few hours, talking about this and that. My bike's rear tire had deflated (and still is, as of this writing, flat) due to a technical mixup I had with a recently-acquired bike pump. That conversation was fun. I can't recall much else of what we talked about. The upcoming trip to Tokyo, for Clive's birthday, was discussed briefly.
Around 11:30 or so we relocated to G-Bros. On the way out, while we settled our tab, one of the Gang, Matt, bought a truly ridiculously massive jar of peanut butter, citing the lack of said ridiculous size anywhere else in Japan, and his love for the stuff. Go Matt.
We got a back table at Bros and the preliminary birthday celebrations were had. Actually, if I recall, the Clive and (Amity) Mike both had their birthdays on Saturday, with the Tokyo trip being a post-birthday bash of extraordinary magnitude. Cake was had, the G-Bros tradition of having a champaign cork shot at your backside was carried out in good humor, and a good time was had by all.
I was introduced to Toni, another Amity teacher. She and I quickly entered Geek Out mode and spent the next two hours communicating at near-light speed about a wide variety of topics. Always delighted to make a new geeky friend, we called the evening quits around the same time and walked each other home, until we had to go our separate ways, chatting all the time.
Back at home, I settled into sleep, eager to start the next day's journeys.
Sunday July 1st
Made myself some breakfast after a leisurely wake up and walked to the train. Clive caught up with me on the way in, and we realized we were cutting it a little close. As we neared the station, K phoned us and informed us of the impending departure of our train. We dashed with renewed vigor, myself being unable to hit the ATM on the way out of Hitachi, and managed to get to the platform on time.
The ride down was fairly sedate and uneventful. Fun conversation was had, about not much at all (mostly catching one another up on world events, rumor, and discussion). Myself, K, M-sensei, and Clive were the passengers on this, the first wave of the Gang down to Tokyo.
We decided to spend our pre-party hours in Akihabara, nerd-mecca of the Earth. This marked my 5th time in the district where anything, and I do mean anything, devoted to Nerdism may be bought, sold, traded, or stolen. I add stolen merely to bring awareness of the plight of the modern Akihabara-goer, who is plagued by many the cutpurse, sneakthief, or otherwise dastardly and uncouth rogue keen to lighten the shopping bags of the unsuspecting otaku.
The first order of business was food, as many of us had grown peckish on the ride down. The attempt to locate a suitable food joint was to prove somewhat frustrating, given the sheer diversity of our group (a midwesterner, a westerner/southerner, a south-Londer and a manchesterman) gave us all different appetites. After a solid half hour of wandering (past a large number of places that smelled superbly delicious) we settled on a kebab stand in what felt like the heart of Akihabara.
It was heaven. Delicious, juicy steak bits atop rice. The other fellows had a larger set, with half a chicken in addition to their rice/meat combo. We savored our delicious, protein-filled lunches. Three of us got items to go, and proceeded to investigate the shopping district for various and sundry purchases. M-sensei was in search of an MP3 player. Clive was looking for PSP media. K sought an adapter cable for a hard drive and a DS.
We walked up and down the strip, aided in our ambulations (ahh, alliteration) by the fact that most of the roads had been closed to road traffic, allowing pedestrians to cross at their leisure. After a few shops, I guided the group to the Yellow Submarine shop I'd found my last time here, with E.J. We met another group of Psi Us, against all probability, who included in our quick dialog directions to a tabletop gaming store. We had been there before, and had marveled at the row upon row of RPG books, in Japanese and (to our amazement) English.
This time around it was the other's turn to gawk at the tiny dollop of gaming squeezed into a space slightly larger than my apartment. I perused the English book section and found that they had a copy of the Dungeons & Dragons Dungeon Master's Guide for Edition 3.5. It's price was a steal; only 2,500 yen. Converted to US Dollars, that is slightly over $20. After a short period of consideration, I snapped it up, realizing that a) I had no paper copies of *any* D&D books here, b) I don't even have the 3.5 DMG in America, and c) it was stupid cheap.
My backpack aglow with creative power and my new purchase, we strove ahead to Yodabashi Camera, stopping briefly to take in an adult novelty shop that was 4 stories high (that will be a tale to tell in person, as this is a family-friendly blog). Yodabashi Camera is, quite possibly, the biggest electronics store in the world. It's footprint is massive, easily several acres, and it's 7 or 8 stories tall. Huge.
We all came in, but after seeing the lines M-sensei and Clive decided to head outside to relax while K and I searched for his purchases. In the end, after lots of wandering and questioning and waiting in lines, we emerged victorious. K purchased a pink DS Lite and the perfect adapter cable (Serial ATA to something) for his system.
And then, we decided to go to Hiro-o, the location of the evening's main attraction; the Tokyo Absolut Ice Bar.
The Absolut Ice Bar is a bar, wherein one can purchase and enjoy adult beverages, that is made of ice. It is run by the makers of Absolut vodka. Shockingly, the adult beverages you enjoy at the Absolut Ice Bar are only those made by Absolut. Everything is ice; the walls, the furniture, the bar, even your glass, is made of clear ice. It is Flipping Sweet. Also, very cold. The whole place is kept at a toasty 5 degrees below zero, give or take, so long-term exposure is not advised. The bar staff provides you with a super-awesome space blanket poncho, complete with thick gloves and fur-lined hood, to keep you from dying of exposure. You enter the bar via a small airlock, really just a closet-sized room with two doors, so as to minimize heat bleeding.
As I said before, you can't spend too long in the ice bar, or else your body starts to become too cold. More immediately (to the hip, globe-trotting jetsetter mindset) is the limited amount of space within the bar itself. The constant refrigeration cost must be staggering, and thus the bar itself is quite small, perhaps twice the size of my apartment in square footage. This all boils down to two simple facts. One, you must have a reservation for the Ice Bar, 45 minutes max. Two, it's quite expensive. 3,500 yen gets you in the door and gives you one drink (and one ice-glass. If yours breaks or melts, you have to buy a new one to drink any more). Additional drinks are at a whopping 1,200 yen a pop, easily double the price of a beer at a normal bar.
Enough technicalities! We had a blast! My initial group arrived first, and spent a few minutes outside waiting for the rest of our group to show up. As our time window opened, we decided to go on in and wait for them inside. We paid the staff, slipped into our silvery ponchos, and headed into a frozen wonderland.
The ice is very clear. I'm not sure how one makes ice this clear, but there's no mistaking the clarity. There's a few cracks, some air bubbles and other signs of impurities, sure, but you can see through all of the ice. Really pretty. The bar was lit with soft white and blue lights diffused and filtered through the walls of ice, casting a soft, almost twilight glow through the small room. It was quiet, too; there was club music, but it was kept at a low level. The tables and chairs are all low to the ground, mostly to help with structural integrity I suppose, but there was a human-sized ice sculpture in the middle of the room to enjoy. Built into the walls were several modular ice sheets that had been engraved from the other side. What one sees, looking at these ice sheets from the bar side, is a reverse bas-relief. In ice. Quite beautiful. The sculptors included an ice-plaque, declaring that they also were responsible for one of the Ice Hotels. (Imagine the ice bar mentality enlarged, as if by a mad genius, into a hotel. Where you can sleep.)
The other half of our party arrived a few minutes after we did, and we proceeded to get down with our bad selves. Drinks were had, myself enjoying an Absolut Viking (Absolut vodka with grape juice...mmmm) and an Absolut Polaris (can't remember what was in it, but it went from yellow to blue and tasted like bananas and cream).
Many, many pictures were taken, and many jokes about the cold were told. One of the walls was carved into a mini luge for one's ice glasses, so the occasional brave soul would sling their drink through the wall via a winding downward slope. The glasses would become stuck, from time to time, much to the despair of the luge-ee and the amusement of the audience.
I met a couple in the bar, one of the few patrons not associated with our own birthday celebration. I cannot recall where they were from beyond "Tokyo", but they apparently were sharing their second date together. The male of the duo assured me, in a conspiratorial whisper, that they would enjoy certain adult activities later in the night. Hilarity.
As our time at the Ice Bar drew to a close we found ourselves the only patrons therein. The staff let us stay a little longer, to our simultaneous joy and frigidity. After an hour of freezing cold, we doffed our ponchos and wandered into the heat of a Tokyo summer night. Feeling the difference between the bar and the heat and humidity of the outside world was like being hit by a car made of swamp water. Warm and sticky and thick heat wrapped around us. It was quite a sensation.
It was now Monday.
Monday July 2nd
Our group wandered toward Roppongi Hills, the section of Tokyo where one may find a traditional "night club" scene. Never having attended such places in the States, it was a new experience for me (albeit not one I relished). We walked through and past a new tower, freshly constructed in the heart of Tokyo. It had some interesting neo-Egyptian architecture. Looked like something out of a movie.
Finally, we made it to Roppongi. For those of you who enjoy the night club scene, the next segment may hold particular mirth, given my utter inexperience with such activities. Keep in mind that I have, quite literally, never done this sort of thing before.
We walked along a strip of neon-daylight, propositioned at every street corner by handfuls of club barkers. This club was the best, no that one. This one has food, while this one has girls. The others of our group seemed giddy with choice. I simply saw an endless row of bars wherein there was space to dance. We finally settled on one, called "Club 911". At least the music was nice. We all proceeded to drink and dance, as conversation was impossible given the intense volume of the dance jams. I was flagging, my second wind having come and gone, and entered a sort of fugue state of existence. I recall dancing a few times, to the best of my ability, and enjoying a few (slightly cheaper, but not by much) drinks from the bar.
Several hours passed in this manner, until about 4ish in the morning. We quit the club, and after much hemming and hawing, the group split. My chunk was heading home, whilst the others were heading out to find more clubs and take in the fish market. I would have liked to see the fish market myself, but I was feeling pretty crappy, and I didn't want to do much more than sleep.
What followed was a blur of subway stops as we caught the first trains of the day. We worked our way through the Tokyo Underground, our group shedding numbers as others decided to do their own things while in Tokyo. K and myself were the last of our original "going the hell home now" group left when we finally got to Ueno, gateway station to Hitachi and all points northward.
K and I found a Limited Express train and settled into some booth seats to sleep the way home. Our train departed, and we began our long journey home. We slept and woke intermittently, our bodies demanding sleep but unable to relax completely. I kept waking up at just the right times; when some business men decided to share our booth, when we had to switch trains halfway through our ride, when we finally arrived at Hitachi. Hours after we'd left Ueno, almost a day after we'd set out from Hitachi, K and I made it back home.
K rode his bike home, whilst I caught a cab. I grabbed a quick shower to rinse the club gunk from my body, and collapsed into bed. It was not yet 9 A.M. I slept until 5 P.M. I began to write this blog post, but given the sheer volume of information it contains, it was written over the space of three separate sessions, stretched out over the course of a week's time.
And that is my adventure from last weekend, gentle reader. From June to July, it was a birthday celebration of epic, and quite chilly, proportions.
I shall write the next entry now, for this weekend. Huzzah!
Thursday, May 24, 2007
Yesterday~
J72 Thursday, March 24th 2007
Thursdays are always a little tough. I usually don't have as much prep time as I normally do, thanks to a weekly meeting, and this morning I found myself getting in a tad later than I would have liked.
Nothing big to report, aside from the fact that two of my students had their last classes today. Both of them, Hiro-kun and Mo-chan, are amazing students. Mo-chan is in her last year of high school, and as such is starting to study in earnest for her college entrance exams. She won't have time enough for AEON and school. Hiro-kun is in a similar situation, only he has to study for tests that will let him become a Master's student at his university.
Both of them have good reasons, and I gave them nothing but encouraging words, but I was still a little sad to see them leave. Mo-chan even gave me a little goodbye card. It was terribly sweet.
Early morning tomorrow [EDITOR: So why are you still up, dingus?] at the university, handing out fliers and yelling at college students. Yay!
--------------------------------------------------
[Original day written: Sunday, February 25th 2007 at 8:00AM]
J3.0
I'm in the Omiya train station (Omiya being the small city where the seminar house is). I walked from the seminar house to the station, taking lots of photos along the way. Snagged some LURVLY warm gloves, so now my hands are nice and toasty.
I'm at the Starbucks above the station, people watching and reading Perdido Street Station. What an amazing book! I read China Mieville's first novel, King Rat, in my Postmodernism class at GT. It was okay, but didn't find it jaw-dropping. Lisa and J.D. made mutterings that it was the best thing to happen to fiction since Scott Lynch and George R.R. Martin, but they were right twice, and thus I had to wait until I left the country before I started reading them ;)
I'm full of anpan [EDITOR: Red bean paste filled bread. Find some and eat it immediately, for it is delicious] and hot chocolate, waiting on Brain and Tara to appear from below, where the gates of the train station are in a constant state of flux. In and out, at all times, people are flowing from the turnstiles. I'm writing in this journal, which I just love to death. It's a grid-lined Moleskine that I bought at a Boarders in Atlanta for about $10. I wish I got a better pen, as the one I have now bleeds like a stuck pig, but it does alright for scratching down little notes. I'll make these better once I get the internet [EDITOR: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA GET THE INTERNET WHAT A JOKE].
There is so much art here: abstract designs and architecture is varied and constant. Tiles are laid everywhere. Everywhere there are signs of age. Some designs look to have been laid down yesterday, and not a dozen yards away is a building or a wall that dates back to the War.
J3.1
This Starbucks has played only American music. Sinatra and other 40s/50s stuff.
Every other group of young people could be a rock band. Style is EVERYTHING to the people I see. Hair in a variety of colors and styles, clothes with words, images, screens, and prints. Chains, zippers, leather, canvas, denim, laces. Everything is used, everything different.
Wish I had a "Bring Brack Brain" shirt. I wish I had another shirt, period. I've only got a grey sleeping shirt (not at all suitable for wear outside of the room) and a blue button-up short-sleeved shirt. I do laundry every day, sometimes twice a day, just to be sure I have enough clean stuff to wear. I have this Survivor/Curusoe thing going on, so that's one good thing I've got going for me.
Oh, hey, Brain!
And Tara!
J3.2
Oh, God, I am so tired. I'm at a restaurant in Harajuku [EDITOR: Cooler than you think, despite Gwen Steffani's best efforts] called the Elephant Cafe. I've been out with Brain and Tara ALL day. We ate lunch at a Hard Rock Cafe, after which we went to Akihabara [EDITOR: The first trip there of many!]. We trundled up and down the main street, going into and out of a dozen massive media stores. Every possible form of media you can think of. Books, movies, music, DVDs (T.V. shows, anime, etc.)
Tara bought a bunch of stuff (it was apparently payday yesterday for her), but I held back. I don't have a lot of money with me, so I'm waiting for my own payday and the Internet to satisfy my anime cravings [EDITOR: AHAHAHA AGAIN?] We went to Harajuku around 6 PM, where I bought a nifty scarf. It was getting a little colder, but thanks to my awesome flannel scarf my neck and face are as toasty as my gloves.
We waited for a long time for a table here at the Elephant Cafe, and even longer for service. I just want to sleep, I am so very, very tired. The other people at the table are other AEON teachers, foreigners, and.....I can't remember to write, I'm so tired. Oh, joy, we just ordered drinks.
J3.3
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Thursdays are always a little tough. I usually don't have as much prep time as I normally do, thanks to a weekly meeting, and this morning I found myself getting in a tad later than I would have liked.
Nothing big to report, aside from the fact that two of my students had their last classes today. Both of them, Hiro-kun and Mo-chan, are amazing students. Mo-chan is in her last year of high school, and as such is starting to study in earnest for her college entrance exams. She won't have time enough for AEON and school. Hiro-kun is in a similar situation, only he has to study for tests that will let him become a Master's student at his university.
Both of them have good reasons, and I gave them nothing but encouraging words, but I was still a little sad to see them leave. Mo-chan even gave me a little goodbye card. It was terribly sweet.
Early morning tomorrow [EDITOR: So why are you still up, dingus?] at the university, handing out fliers and yelling at college students. Yay!
--------------------------------------------------
[Original day written: Sunday, February 25th 2007 at 8:00AM]
J3.0
I'm in the Omiya train station (Omiya being the small city where the seminar house is). I walked from the seminar house to the station, taking lots of photos along the way. Snagged some LURVLY warm gloves, so now my hands are nice and toasty.
I'm at the Starbucks above the station, people watching and reading Perdido Street Station. What an amazing book! I read China Mieville's first novel, King Rat, in my Postmodernism class at GT. It was okay, but didn't find it jaw-dropping. Lisa and J.D. made mutterings that it was the best thing to happen to fiction since Scott Lynch and George R.R. Martin, but they were right twice, and thus I had to wait until I left the country before I started reading them ;)
I'm full of anpan [EDITOR: Red bean paste filled bread. Find some and eat it immediately, for it is delicious] and hot chocolate, waiting on Brain and Tara to appear from below, where the gates of the train station are in a constant state of flux. In and out, at all times, people are flowing from the turnstiles. I'm writing in this journal, which I just love to death. It's a grid-lined Moleskine that I bought at a Boarders in Atlanta for about $10. I wish I got a better pen, as the one I have now bleeds like a stuck pig, but it does alright for scratching down little notes. I'll make these better once I get the internet [EDITOR: AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA GET THE INTERNET WHAT A JOKE].
There is so much art here: abstract designs and architecture is varied and constant. Tiles are laid everywhere. Everywhere there are signs of age. Some designs look to have been laid down yesterday, and not a dozen yards away is a building or a wall that dates back to the War.
J3.1
This Starbucks has played only American music. Sinatra and other 40s/50s stuff.
Every other group of young people could be a rock band. Style is EVERYTHING to the people I see. Hair in a variety of colors and styles, clothes with words, images, screens, and prints. Chains, zippers, leather, canvas, denim, laces. Everything is used, everything different.
Wish I had a "Bring Brack Brain" shirt. I wish I had another shirt, period. I've only got a grey sleeping shirt (not at all suitable for wear outside of the room) and a blue button-up short-sleeved shirt. I do laundry every day, sometimes twice a day, just to be sure I have enough clean stuff to wear. I have this Survivor/Curusoe thing going on, so that's one good thing I've got going for me.
Oh, hey, Brain!
And Tara!
J3.2
Oh, God, I am so tired. I'm at a restaurant in Harajuku [EDITOR: Cooler than you think, despite Gwen Steffani's best efforts] called the Elephant Cafe. I've been out with Brain and Tara ALL day. We ate lunch at a Hard Rock Cafe, after which we went to Akihabara [EDITOR: The first trip there of many!]. We trundled up and down the main street, going into and out of a dozen massive media stores. Every possible form of media you can think of. Books, movies, music, DVDs (T.V. shows, anime, etc.)
Tara bought a bunch of stuff (it was apparently payday yesterday for her), but I held back. I don't have a lot of money with me, so I'm waiting for my own payday and the Internet to satisfy my anime cravings [EDITOR: AHAHAHA AGAIN?] We went to Harajuku around 6 PM, where I bought a nifty scarf. It was getting a little colder, but thanks to my awesome flannel scarf my neck and face are as toasty as my gloves.
We waited for a long time for a table here at the Elephant Cafe, and even longer for service. I just want to sleep, I am so very, very tired. The other people at the table are other AEON teachers, foreigners, and.....I can't remember to write, I'm so tired. Oh, joy, we just ordered drinks.
J3.3
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
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