Fitting In? Fat Chance, honey :P

I have come to discover that my chances of fitting in around Japan are slim-to-none.  Not that I really expected to fit in in the first place, with my dirty-blonde hair, tanned skin, and blue eyes, but I mean culturally, as well as physically, I have almost no chance.

Tonight, heading home on the trains, there were no seats available when I boarded my final transfer.  However, the next station, though it certainly would dispense a good chunk of the train’s current occupants, leaving me a seat or two for myself (which it eventually did do, as usual), was almost ten minutes away (7:50 to be exact), and I was exhausted.  So much so, that I couldn’t even bother trekking through the cars, due to the slim hopes of finding an empty eat.

So, what did I do?  I just squat down slowly and inconspicuously, and sat on the floor, in the corner by the door.  It was actually quite comfortable.  (And familiar, seeing as I had done the exact same thing last night, too.)

Something else I did last night, was strike up conversation with a guy on the train.  Yes, he was reading a Spanish study book.  No, I have never seen people start talking to strangers on the trains here.  Ever.  But I just couldn’t resist – a Japanese guy is standing in front of me, not only studying Spanish, but he is really into it… and it happens to be around 12:30am.  First off, how is he even reading right now?  Second, why is he so into it, that he is engrossed in the book, although he looks exhausted?

Suffice to say, I decided to talk to him, and have now adopted him as one of my friends. (We are now Facebook friends and Line buddies, due to my finding him on each (again, totally not something a girl typically does here, according to what I’ve been told by Japanese friends).)

Yesterday, heading into town, I found myself lip synching to various musical numbers and anything else that popped up on shuffle on my iPod… and hard core, too, with some dancing around (in place) and head shaking and such.  I paused briefly, when at a really intense part of Defying Gravity, suddenly thinking about how this must look for the people around me.  The pause was a mere pause, though, as I thought it through, and determined that I really don’t mind not fitting in.  I want to be loved.  Fitting in is of no importance.  Just love.  And people can’t love me, i they don’t get to know who I am.  And at that moment, lip synching to amazing songs was a perfect expression of my self.  So I resumed… and continued for the next almost half hour (at which point the music mellowed out, and I found a place to sit on the train, so I just continued with casual lip synching).

With all of this happening in the past 24 hours, I think I have officially reached the point where I can declare that I just won’t ever fit in here.  ;P  Ever.  And that’s totally okay.  🙂

 

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vocabulary and wardrobes

I was inspired by a (digital) conversation I had today with a high schooler, and so thought I would share it with you, dear void.  I had not specifically put words or real thought into this idea, until today, mid-conversation, thus making it quite exciting for me throughout this whole little bit!  😀

me
10:50 AM
we tend to hang out with a certain, small set of vocabulary in daily life
just like our clothing
A
10:50 AM
yeah i have like 2 shirts i wear even though i have more. they are both black v necks
me
10:50 AM
we wear the same pieces over and over again
A
10:50 AM
tell me about that trust me i know that my mom hates it
me
10:51 AM
exactly
haha
A
10:52 AM
is this draft finished?
me
10:52 AM
because, even though we are comfortable in them (the words and the clothing), other people have to look at them and hear them all day long. So, we have to learn to expand our vocabulary (and wardrobes) to include more and more pieces we totally love (but just didn’t know about)
Otherwise, we bore and annoy those around us, and end up with either no one around us, or boring people around us
;P

 

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Nomihodai

Japan has something called Nomihodai, and it is quite the concept and experience.  For a certain, predetermined-by-you amount of time, your entire party has all-you-can-drink on most beverages the establishment provides.  Now, the main point of this is for people to be able to drink alcoholic beverages (beer and simple mixed drinks), but sodas and juices are also available.

Seeing as I typically drink only water at restaurants, bars, and the likes, the concept of Nomihodai is a somewhat annoying, rather money-sucking one.  However, as I sipped my cup of hot, delicious tea tonight at a café, while discussing end-of-year (man, we’re doing lots of hyphenated nouns tonight) parties that, naturally included Nomihodai, I was struck by a new idea.  Nomihodai for tea.  Naturally, caffeine content would be important to know for such an endeavor, however I totally would love that sort of Nomihodai.

I think the cost could be dropped, because tea is drastically cheaper than alcohol (good ones, anyway), and drinking hot tea takes a bit more time than a cold beer, so one would consume fewer in the same amount of time.  Gosh, I’m smiling all over just thinking of the idea.  If I ever get to my library café, I think I’ll have a sort of Nomihodai option available.  Say twenty bucks for two hours, and you’d have the opportunity to try all sorts of teas, in whatever sizes you wished, perhaps even hot or cold…

Mmmm…., yes, I like this idea; let’s do it.  😀

 

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irrigating your ears

You know that sensation of irrigating your ears?  I used to get ear infections all the time, and so I irrigate my ears quite often these days, depending on the type of shower-head I use (yes, it actually makes as difference in how much water ends up in my ears).

Anyway, onward and whatnot… now, for whatever reason, the alcohol always seems to be cold – not uncomfortably cold, but definitely cold to the touch.  As you pour it into your ear, a slight chill rushes down your neck, raising your shoulders and creating a chained reaction of shuddering all the way down your spine – a sort of shudder of ecstasy.  Then, if you move your head around while the alcohol is in there, you experience a sort of itching sensation as the liquid bounces back and forth against the walls, rolls up and down the sides.  And finally, as you right your head, the blup-blup-blup-blup-blup(!) of alcohol hurries out of your ear, summoned by the call of gravity, down your chin and neck, creating another sort of shudder of ecstasy, but this time of relief, as well as the ecstasy.  And, if the angle was right, you come to with the alcohol dripping from your chin, having followed that path frequented by tears.

Yeah, it’s a really weird experience, irrigating one’s ears.  Really.  But it makes a huge difference in my ear health, for which I am grateful.

 

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Tampons & Facebook

I suppose it was yesterday some time, that I posted a photo of tampons on Facebook.  I found it hilarious at the store that there were cutesy wrappers on the Super Plus and Regular size tampon boxes, but the Super size was just the plain green wrapper (photo below).  So, I shared this sentiment and picture with my friends and acquaintances.

The intriguing part about this is not the fact that I publicly displayed tampons with ease, but the two comments that have shown up on the post in the past 24-ish hours.  many people have “liked” the photo, but only two commented.  And they were both men.

At first, I was a bit concerned when I saw the notification “[Insert man’s name] has commented on your photo” (actually, it’s all in German, so it doesn’t say any of that, but you get the idea) each time.  The first was a young (twenties) guy (caused a concern for potential teasing or joking), the second a grown man (caused concern of offense/having to explain what the photo was).  However, both men left me somewhat speechless temporarily, yet smiling inside and out for long afterward.

What did they comment on my post?  The young guy commented with delight and joy (in the sense of respect and acknowledgement, as opposed to making fun, as one might have expected (slash as I kind of had expected)) on the fact that I had written such a bold post (because it’s clearly not commonplace for him to be seeing a post about tampons on Facebook), and also on how there were many types of tampons (you learn something new every day, and I guess that was his fun fact of the day ;P ).  The second guy wrote as follows:

Wow, you’ve exposed women’s needs to the world!
Whenever my wife buys these in the supermarket,
they put them in separate brown paper bags;
not expected to be with the rest of the groceries in the
plastic bags they hand us.  As if, somehow, they would be
?less clean? than paper towels or Saran wrap?

And I was blown away.  Not just by my own doubt at the ability of men to be so supportive of my treating tampons as an everyday topic of discussion among all people (as opposed to being totally taboo around men, and a nervous topic with women for loads of women), but by how beautifully they had shared their opinions on the matter.  I was overjoyed and somewhat awestruck at it all, and I still am (duh, that’s why I’m writing this about it right now)!  Way-to-go, guys!  I am incredibly grateful that we have at least these two men who are ready for the advancement of this conversation to normalcy.  If there are two (and from two totally separate cultures, mind you), then there are certainly more.  So, yay!  😀

 

Thanks, again, guys.  I think you kind of made my day.  😀

img_2256

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How Apple effectively removed music from my daily life

I used to listen to music all the time.  Like daily, and even throughout lots of the day oftentimes.  However, that has changed in the past several months.  Why?  My last pair of headphones broke.

Now, this isn’t to say that I own no more headphones, and that I can’t buy more headphones.  Of course not – I own several pair, and the stores are hardly sold out of headphones.  This is to say that my last pair of headphones I can use finally broke.

I guess it was a couple or a few years ago that Apple decided to alter drastically the design of their headphones/headsets.  The “earbuds” were established as the only design the company made anymore, removing the former style.  I used my new set of earbuds when I got my new phone (I was so excited about it, it was kind of ridiculous)…, and I quickly discovered that they gave me splitting headaches.

How is this possible, since we all know that I always play my music rather quietly?  Well, the earbuds are too large for my ears.  They push so much on the inside rims of my ears, that my head starts hurting after only a few minutes of use – I don’t even get to enjoy a single song, before the pain begins.  I wore them and wore them, hoping beyond hope that I would adjust to this new style of headphones… to no avail.  I eventually had to give up on them, and make a belated effort to collect as many pairs of the old style as possible (friends were priceless in this effort).

I obviously am very biased here, but I believed Apple had the best headphones on the market for anyone who wasn’t willing to go into the hundreds of dollars for a set.  Perhaps this is part of why all of the other companies that produce headphones suddenly cut production of the former style of headphones, and instead adopted the earbuds style – because Apple is the leader, and they followed.

Whatever the case, though, production of good quality headphones of the formerly top style were now seemingly nonexistent.  That being the case, it meant that I no longer could use headphones for music (or even headsets for phone calls).  I’m always out and about, so I can’t exactly play my music out loud, walking down the busy street, and be able to enjoy it (let alone hear most of it above the street noise).  Nor can I blast music on the trains, where signs regularly remind everyone not to talk on the phone, because it makes noise that could bother others.  So, I just don’t get to listen to music (or talk on the phone easily) whenever I’m out.  (I also have no more audiobook-listening opportunities, something I also used to do almost daily during my work commute.)

So, music has kind of just stepped away from my life these past several months.  It’s dreadful, but I have nothing to do to improve it.  Ideas are entirely welcome, because I miss music every single day, and I just haven’t found anything to do about it, other than write this here post.  I find it utterly amazing, how what could have been one small decision by one person – I person I don’t even know -, has made such a drastic (and negative at that) effect on my life.  It really has me wonder how my daily, seemingly mundane (to me, anyway) decisions might affect the world beyond my immediate surroundings.  How does my decision here and now affect someone (potentially) on the other side of the world?  And how about in another six months?  Or six years?  Or, at that, eternity?  Truly is interesting, huh?

 

Anyway,… here’s to finding music again!

 

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Mystery Underwear

This one’s a bit girly, just FYI.

 

For the past approximately five months, I have been sporting (obviously not daily, but in the regular rotation) a pair of  deep pink underwear.  Why does this matter?  Well, I particularly enjoy wearing these underwear, not simply because they are really a fashionable lady kind of pretty pink or that they are super soft and comfy, but because I’m not actually sure if they’re mine.

July 4th weekend, I stayed in a hotel room with three girlfriends for a dance event.  On the Saturday, I believe it was, we discovered on the floor a pair of pretty pink undies.  They were clean and cute, and even looked quite new.  However, not one of us knew whose undies they were.  I admitted that they looked similar to a pair I had, but I neither remembered having packed them for this trip, nor thought mine to be the same shade of pink and having the same bordering lace as these.

We thought they might have belonged to a cousin who had changed clothes in the room earlier, before and after the pool.  However, that cousin was long gone at this point, and would not be seen by anyone any time soon.

Come close of the weekend, we didn’t want to throw out this pair of obviously clean and useable underwear (well, I didn’t, anyway)…, so I took them home.  (Of all people, I know! (If you don’t know about my OCD stuff, then you don’t get the irony of this, but that’s okay for now.))

Months later, I still am not convinced that they really were mine – I totally remember mine being more of a girly, cutesy pink -, yet I continue to wear them in my regular run through the undergarment wardrobe.  I think I even took the underwear without telling anyone that I’d decided to take them, ’cause the girls were mostly still asleep when I was packing up and leaving.  Any doubts we might carry so far as the acceptance of my taking the underwear, though, can be relieved by the fact that, when I shared the fact of my continued delight in wearing these mysterious pink panties just last week to those girlfriends via the marvelous Facebook Messenger, shouts and laughter of approval rang across the digital waves (especially with the part where they had half-forgotten about the “mystery underwear”, as it has been dubbed).

Moral of the story?

1) Reduce, reuse, and recycle whenever possible and logical.
2) Girlfriends really are some of the greatest.  😀

 

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40 Days

It takes 40 days to build a habit. Supposedly, anyway – I haven’t actually looked into it much, but I’m rolling with it, nonetheless. 😉 Now, I have wanted to write, and so, when I discovered the hashtag on here for daily posting ( #postaday ), the idea came upon me to do a 40-day challenge of posting every day, in hopes of building my habit of writing.

Here, 41 days later, I have completed the task. As I updated the number at the bottom of last night’s writing (changing “39 of 40” to “40 of 40”), I felt a slight joy, but it was certainly short of excitement. I suppose that suggests that this was only a minor accomplishment, according to my head.

However, as the thought came back up a while later – the one where I had done the 40 days of my personal daily challenge -, I realized that this likely is the only thing I have done for forty days straight recently.

And then I thought a bit further back, and still couldn’t find anything. All the way back, so far as I could remember, nothing was coming to mind. Had I ever done anything for 40 days straight? Possibly. But nothing came to mind.

And suddenly this whole thing seemed a bit cooler. Perhaps, even though I wasn’t stoked at having completed it, my completing these 40 days means something more than excitement (because I have been excited plenty of times in life). Perhaps, my completing these 40 days showed how much I cared about the outcome – how much I cared about having writing be a habit for myself.

… 🙂 And I like that idea…

 

 

P.S. I did realize, just tonight, that I have done something of more than 40 days straight. Two things, in fact. And.I have actually done them daily for the past approximate two years (I’ve kept count, and I’ve missed between five and ten days for the first, and possibly missed two days on the second, but possibly only one or not at all.) And what are these fabulous things? The first is flossing – I had two cavities, which, I was told, only could have been avoided by flossing… and so, I started flossing every night before bed, and even oftentimes during the daytime, too. The second is reading from The Bible. I was curious about the specifics throughout it, and so I wanted to read it, but I had already failed so many times. I also wanted to read every day. So I set up a system for myself where I only had to read one small section of The Bible a night, mostly determined by how the version I have is broken up into little bits, and I would do it just before going to sleep, when already in bed. And, somehow, it worked! I also went about reading it in a slightly unusual manner, which was suggested to me by an Austrian Priest one time, and which has proven most helpful. (The shortness of the sections can be seen in the fact that I have been doing this for almost three years, yet still have not finished the book.)

P.P.S. I find it suddenly interesting that 40 days was used to express ‘a really long time’ in The Bible… do these things tie together? I’m certainly intrigued…

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Tonight

Tonight on the train, an old man – and I’m not sure if he even knew about my knee hurting – offered me a seat, instead of taking it himself. I did not take it, yet he encouraged me again. Fortunately another seat across the way was now open, as well, so I took that one, and let the old man have his nearby seat. Nonetheless, an old man offered me his seat. I was and still am honored.

 

Day 40 of 40
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A letter to my new friends

To my newest friends,

Thank you.

Thank you for leaving me always feeling loved, wanted, and appreciated, as well as intellectually challenged and improved.  For unfailingly creating a space where I am not only allowed, but invited, to be exactly who I am and whoever I need to be at that time, I thank you.  You are a beautiful and excited duo, forever inspiring joy within me – I cannot say how often I find myself chuckling at the millions of little nothings with you guys (which truly make a world of a difference in a week filled with a million little and big stresses).  Thanks to the two of you, no matter how my week goes, at the end of it, I always know that the best is yet to come.

You easily bring other wonderful people into my life, as well as into the lives of others, developing the spirit of love and connection on which our world thrives.  You enliven the old, and educate the young; and even educate the old, and enliven the young.  I have watched it and experienced it firsthand, almost every time I am with you.

For what feels like a million cups of tea, which you practically poof into my hands at times, as though some secret grandma senses tell you that I need something warm and loving, I cannot possibly thank you enough (though I shall continue to thank you every time).

Thank you for being there for me, whenever I show up, and in whatever state I happen to be – you have thereby transformed my world, and likely many others’.

For being exactly yourselves, I thank you – you are both truly beautiful assets to the world, as well as to my life in particular.  Friday is not my possibly favorite day, because it starts the weekend, but because it ends with you.

For all this and more, I thank you.  A million times over, and then again twice, thank you.  🙂

Peace
Hannah

 

 

Day 39 of 40
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