My Nemesis

Gaijin Girl versus Acer negundo

One of the GG superhero qualities is an almost OCD-esque propensity towards neatness. In the past, boyfriends and flatmates have been pushed to the limits of their patience as I wandered around picking things up and putting them away. I've just moved (again!) into my own place and, sweet Jesus, what a relief to not have to deal with other people's stuff.

That relief, however, was short lived when the 15-metre tall monster in my backyard declared war. And, baby, I'm gonna win.

Let me introduce Acer negundo, or the more commonly known Boxelder Maple:

The magic faraway tree

This photo was taken from the back door of my house. Note the tentacles leaves wending their way towards the house. It's such a beautiful tree, but all I see is a hell of a lot of leaves. All over the ground. All the time. It's killing me slowly.

A native to North America, the insidious seeds of this tree somehow managed to travel quite a way to invade my yard and annoy the fuck out of me. Known in Australia as a pest, weed, and invasive species, Acer is also resistant to drought which means the fecker will probably continue to thrive as long as our current drought lasts. We've been in drought for over ten years, so A negundo ain't goin nowhere.

The Boxelder Maple is fast-growing and invades bushland which is why it's not an ideal tree to have been introduced to Australia, but I just have an issue with the amount of leaves it drops. I can sweep (I have an aversion to leaf-blowers) then an hour later all my good work is undone. *Sigh* Can my life get any more mundane?

As I stood there with the camera, the branches moved eerily and came suffocatingly close. The war is on.

There has been talk of an arborist.

Samhain party

The Marie Antoinette curtsy ...

A few drinks and the cut on my neck no longer hurts, nor do the spiders in my hair bother me. Oh lovely whiskey.

Crazy Little Thing Called ...

Thinking about it, I have always felt alone.

I wear my aloneness like my favourite coat – you know, that old musty thing? The one with the undiscriminating comfort and warmth of a friend's hug?

I used to pretend it wasn’t so cosy ...‘No, I’m really not that independent,’ I’d laugh. ‘I just like to do my own thing ... sometimes ... um, whenever I need to take off ... do whatever ...’

But aloneness is now a badge of honour I wear proudly on the chest on my coat.

Despite, or maybe because of, growing up with five sisters and the constant stream of friends and sisters’ friends through our house (no one ever used the front door --> just go through the garage to the pool), it is generally in the presence of others that I feel most alone. Sometimes bitterly and overwhelmingly so.

Yet, when I’m on my own, I am comfortable. Complete. Strong. And never lonely.

When I look back and evaluate where I am at now, I am sometimes gobsmacked at the choices I’ve made: the fuck-ups, the dumb decisions, and the complete stupidity and thoughtlessness of some of my actions.

But more often than not, all I know is that all I can be is me. Everybody else is taken.

I Hope I'm Old Before I Die

So sang Robbie Williams. Well, fuck that: I hope I’m old before I get old.

About a year before I left Australia for Japan in 2005, I got my period about every two weeks, had many sleepless nights, and had difficulty concentrating. I thought I was going through a phase. Then I thought the above was all due to the stress of moving country. Then I thought it was living in a different country; it was similar when I lived in the UK for a couple of years. I joked with friends in Tokyo that I was going through early menopause.

Finally saw a doctor after returning to Australia, and she confirmed that I am indeed going through early menopause, or the rather unkindly named Spontaneous and Unexpected Ovarian Failure, according to the Australasian Menopause Society. Like I need ovarian performance anxiety. For fuck’s sake.

Initially confused and upset, and not entirely sure why I was confused and upset, I decided to ignore the whole thing. Feck, I’d been through the worst of it in Tokyo: covered in sweat every night, full nights of sleeplessness, uncontrollable sobbing, hot flushes during the day at work (bless living in Japan, where having a handheld fan is almost mandatory), and the worst thing: a complete inability to concentrate. I’ve always been quite vague, a dreamer, but this brought my absent-mindedness to a whole new level. That was, and still is, the hardest thing, because I’ve always prided myself on my intelligence (although this blog is hardly a reflection of it).

My gyno and I are currently discussing oestrogen replacement therapy, although I am loathe to go down that path. Apparently, I am still producing comparatively high levels of oestrogen, but bone density scans show early signs of fucking osteoporosis. I'm too young for an old woman's condition. And when my oestrogen levels fall to that of a post-menopausal woman, I'll begin to age. Prematurely. Before I'm old. Before my time. Skin elasticity will deteriorate, my bones may become brittle, and I envision that I'll turn into a shrivelled up hag.

Menopause, in itself, is obviously not a negative thing. It's something every woman will eventually go through. It's just hard to accept at the moment because my friends and their partners/husbands/wives are, on average, going through their second pregnancy and are dealing with parenting issues, just when they should be. No one I know can relate, and the early arrival in my case has brought regrets of missed opportunities. And fuck living with regret; it's a waste of time.

So, with my mid-life crisis, my hair is now dyed blonde, and cut into a cute, short bob (coz it really is all about the hair). Hurrah, perhaps the Porsche will be next?

Jumping on Vic's Wagon

The comments and emails over the last six-months or so have given me a great deal of comfort and pleasure. Um, even though I haven't yet responded to many of them. Ahem. I didn't stop blogging deliberately, but there’s a lot less to write about in Australia. Or so it seemed, until I read two truly amazing blog posts today.

Kate and Vic are two of my inspirations, although I sometimes deliberately refrain from reading them because they make the shortcomings of this blog seem all the more apparent, and I realise that this blogging caper of mine is a wasted endeavour. Although somewhat different in topic, the two posts (linked on their names above) sum up how I feel about writing, and blogging in general. These two women write and publish photos regularly. They grasp the feelings and ideas whirling around them, and somehow transform these esoteric concepts into sentences that convey insight, self-awareness, humour, and creativity.

It is the last of these with which I struggle. I was totally passed over when the creativity gene was being handed about amongst myself and my five sisters. I can string a sentence together, my problem is what the bloody hell to write about? I can’t do the version of, “Got up this morning, had a cuppa, went shopping, read a book, watched television, then went to bed.” I wouldn’t have been that excited living it, let alone writing about it.

I could give 100 reasons for the blogging lack: 50-hour working weeks, little sleep, adjusting to life in Melbourne, starting a new job on Monday, spending time with friends, the continuing saga of 90210-esque attempts at relationships, getting my head around premature menopause and year-four of associated symptoms, no time, staring into space, feeling as though my brain is a festering quagmire of brain cells working against each other ... you get the idea. These would all be true to a certain extent, but I know I just haven’t made time. For some of the above reasons and for countless more.

So, time to change all that.

Past My Use-by Date

After a lifetime spent avoiding pregnancy, I've now been told that I can't actually have children.

The last two weeks haven't been great, what with all the poking and prodding -- and I don't mean the fun sort -- and there's more to not look forward to. I'm not comfortable with body stuff, and have avoided the medical profession with the same determination that I've avoided pregnancy, so it has been quite confronting to have to have all the blood tests, bone scans, and ultrasounds. To say nothing of the number of people who have deemed it necessary to stick their fingers in my twat. It hasn't seen this much action since my man-rampage in my twenties.

After receiving this rather momentous news yesterday, I got a tram into work with my head absolutely spinning. A young toddler sat in his pram near me, and we gravely contemplated each other's countenances. He, too, had a single tear running down his cheek.

After barely holding it together all day at work, a gorgeous friend allowed the rest of my tears to wash over her. I know, I'm 38 and single, but I assumed I would have a few more years in which to decide if having a baby was a step I wanted to take. I am surprised and overwhelmed at the strength of my response in having that choice taken away from me.

I also don't want to be 'that woman'; you know, the one that the others whisper about behind their hands at family get-togethers: 'Oh, that's GG. She can't have children.' I've seen it done to others. Or the well-meaning friends, who, surrounded by their little sprogs, ask loudly, 'So, when are you going to find yourself a man, GG, and settle down and have kids?' I've copped a lifetime of it.

It has also made me think about what it means to be a woman. Does it make me less of a woman if I can't conceive? What if I meet someone who really wants kiddies? It wouldn't work out, that's what.

If I was lying on my deathbed and had chosen to not have children in my lifetime, I would feel content about my decision. But not being able to make that choice will be really hard to live with.

The Great Unveiling

Going by some of the fan emails I've received, there are some (very bored) folk out there who are interested, if not downright obsessed, in finding out who I am and what I look like. My online identity is one of the better kept secrets in my life, and I'd rather it stayed that way.

However, as this blog has been dying a long and protracted death since its inception over two and a half years ago, a dear friend decided it was time to out me. The photo is quite embarrassing, but please note that I have upgraded my computer system since then and am now using a laptop.

Sayonara, anonymity.

This is the End, Beautiful Friend

Bullet point summary of minor events in GG's life over the last few months:

June:

• Moved out of GGHQ and into the House of Cards

• Best friend from Melbourne came to visit and was in Tokes for a week

• Moved out of House of Cards and into another friend's place

July:

• Quick, three day visit to Melbourne, then returned to never-ending rainy season, earthquakes and typhoons of Tokyo

• Moved out of friend's place and back into House of Cards

• Worked sixty hour weeks at SpyHQ

• Turned 38

• Resigned from job (possibly related to crisis of afore-mentioned birthday)

August:

• Packed up wee Tokyo life and jumped on second flight within three weeks back to Melbourne (overnight flights blow, big time)

• Spent first three weeks in Melbourne walking around in daze at all the space, huge expanse of sky that constantly threatened to crush me, and the fact I could speak to anybody at anytime and they would understand me (except taxi drivers)

• House-sat at friend's place while they went to snow. Enjoyed huge house and backyard and glorious, warm weather.

• Got sunburnt. In winter.

Predictor bullet points for September:

• Am unexcited about tomorrow's date with BB, but am sure it will be fun on some level

• Move into gorgeous new house in inner Melbourne on Sunday

• Am more excited about finally unpacking my suitcases for first time in twelve weeks than afore-mentioned date tomorrow

• Will commence serious job search. Umm, at some point

So, this is it for GGSA and my Japanese adventure. Thanks for reading, for your comments, your friendships, your inspiration, and for allowing me into your lives. I have, and still do, read all your words, even though I'm not commenting. And for the quiet lurkers, thanks for lurking -- it was nice to know there were folk skulking in the background.

I've also been spending way too much time on Facebook. If your address was in my personal account, you would have received an invite. If you're on Facebook, drop me an email and we can buddy up.

Finally, I'd love to tell you about the new blog, but it's top secret. If you'd like to read about future boring events in my life, send me an email and you'll be cursedrewarded with the link to the new blog.

But for now, sayonara.
GGx

Movin' On Up

Crikey.

I've been in Japan for just over two years and I'm already onto my third house move. I don't know how this compares with my moving seven times in five years when living in Melbourne, as I'm no math freak, but let's just say I should be very good at it by now.

Well, I'm not.

I'm the laziest bint you'll ever have the misfortune to meet. Rather than pack my belongings together, I throw things away as that's the easiest option. And life is meant to be easy; I truly believe that. My parents would die if they could see the useful and practical everyday things I get rid of, because they're the sort of folks who collect stuff. Me? If it means I have to carry the stuff on my back, then I'm not going to hold onto it for very long.

A good mate is getting a van on Saturday and will help me move my remaining bits'n'bobs into his shed. Hey, he's Australian, and no self-respecting larrikin would live anywhere, including Tokyo, without a shed. Then, as he and his family will be in Australia for summer (but winter in Oz), I will stay at their house for a few months. They have a fully equipped and functioning kitchen, complete with bench space(!!!) that I can use to heat up my convenience store food. Oh, and they're also within walking distance of SpyHQ, so so-long subway suckers!

I haven't had time to feel sad about leaving GGHQ. Most of my energy is currently going into trying to learn how to be a Spy. I'm supposed to be packing now, but have decided that writing this is more a procrastination cathartic endeavour, and will probably stay up all night Friday night throwing things into garbage bags for the rubbish collection. Feck, I hate change, and everything is happening all at once.

Next week may be rather uncomfortable. Even though we're moving my crud this weekend, I won't actually go to the House of Cards until the following weekend. I shall be here with my futon, a week's worth of work clothes, and hopefully a book. And nothing else. I won't even have the computer. I can't check blogs from work (yet) so I'll really miss catching up on all your news. I'll have access again in a week or so.

Wow, this is a shite post, but it has served its purpose and it's just about time for some zzzzs.

Sayonara, baby.

The Spy Who... Travelled on a Train

Tokyo: Peak hour

I leave GGHQ in a mad scramble, always late, for the ten-minute walk to the station. Except now it's a fifteen-minute walk because I am wearing ridiculous heels, a suit, and am swinging a freakin’ handbag over my arm. The early morning stumble is interrupted by the traffic lights opposite Mejiro Station. Regardless of when I leave home, I have to wait at these lights for an interminable amount of time, along with about one thousand other people. The crowd is restless as we stare at the red man, willing him to turn green/blue. The little man is the equivalent of a starter gun for the mad dash across the road. The tension rises as we glance at each other with narrowed eyes, size each other up, and pick out the weak links in the line up. The course can be charted easily: dodge around the obasan — there's always at least one old lady blocking the way — push little kids out of the way, and leap over the shopping cart of another obasan. Sararimen are also fair game for any amount of pushing and shoving. Tripping is not uncommon.

The lights change, and we're off! Some whippersnappers jump the gun and head off at an almighty sprint, but they can be thwarted by the throngs coming out of the station. As ever, the spatial awareness lack, about which I have complained bitterly alluded to once or twice, can complicate things somewhat, but when the race is over, we are all standing together on the platform waiting for the same train.

And here beginneth the real fun.

The two-hundred metre long train roars into the station. I stare in astonishment at the faces pressed against the windows and the swarm of people crowded in the train. I bolt to the end of the platform, convinced that it will be less crowded at the back of the train. One thousand other people had this brainwave, apparently, as the last carriage is packed. A single salariman and I both push and shove our way onto the train. The doors close, muffling the jingle that is particular to Mejiro. (They all have their own tune!) With my nose pressed flat to the door’s window, I watch the blur of the built-up cityscape flash by as we race for two-minutes to the next station (the stations are two-minutes apart).

Takadanobaba: The sarariman and I hop off to allow people to disembark. Not a single body leaves the train. We get back on, followed by ten more people. Just so you know, the way to board a train in this instance is to step on backwards, thereby pushing people further into the train with the power of your arse. Just don’t let one rip.

Shin-Okubo: No connecting lines here, so things aren’t looking good. I’ve been pushed away from the safety of the door and am unable to reach a hand strap. My arms are pressed to my sides from the force of the people squashed around me, and at one point my feet are actually about one foot behind my centre of gravity. But we’re all like this – there’s nowhere to fall because there’s no space to fall. Each commuter is holding the other person up.

Shinjuku: Thank fuck for that! There are about ten connections here, so surely most folk will get off. About half disembark, and then another three-quarters shove their way in. By now, I am in the middle of the carriage, with warm bodies pressed on me from all sides. I haven’t had this much action for a while, which is freakin’ tragic on so many levels. It’s like a mosh-pit, but you can’t actually move. I still manage to carry out some stealth surveillance, though.

Yoyogi: As one of the few folk to have access to a handrail, I am single-handedly holding up the weight of everyone at one end of the carriage as the train screeches to a halt and everyone falls forward. But I can do this because I’m a superhero.

Harajuku: With a weak and shaking arm, we pull into this mecca for the young-uns. ‘Sweet fucking Jesus and holy bloody Mary,’ I realise I am muttering, wishing I had scoffed a couple of Bloody Marys before the trip, ‘For the love of god, make some people get off this fucking train!’ Not a soul moves. But more get on.

Shibuya: This is where the sweet relief starts. About three-quarters of the people get off at this station, and only about half get back on. These are good odds. It’s also the station where things get nasty. Not in a western, in-your-face kinda way — oh, I wish — but in a rude pushing and shoving way. And I mean serious pushing, people. I was given a great heave-ho by a bloke the other day, and neither of us were even getting off the train. Perhaps it’s a way to release the frustration and anger that one inevitably feels after having their space invaded.

Ebisu: More pushing; this time from me, as I try to get from wherever I am to the door to Get. Off. The. Fucking. Train. I stand on the platform for a moment to collect myself. My clothes are ripped to shreds, my hair is mussed, and my makeup smeared across my face. But ... fuck me, I made it.

The Yamanote Line train runs every two minutes. Almost to the second. And each train is like this during peak hour in Tokyo. And just crowded, thereafter.

I stumble out of the station, and head underground for the connecting subway ride…

Taken while waiting for a train at around 11.00pm, Ebisu station.

Fun fact!
From Wikipedia: An estimated 3.5 million passengers ride every day on Tokyo's Yamanote Line, with its 29 stations. For comparison, the New York City Subway carries 4.8 million passengers per day on 26 lines serving 468 stations.

I Spy...

with my little eye, something beginning with GG.

Phew, a momentary return to my poor neglected blog.

What a funny couple of months it has been. I set myself free from the Clown's clutches almost two weeks ago after giving one month's notice. He wanted me to stay and offered me an extra $100- a month as an incentive to continue dealing with his shit. The final insult, you might say. And I would agree with you. I declined his offer and told him I was going back to Australia.

I gave notice to move out of GGHQ. No problems there. I began applying for jobs in Melbourne in preparation for my return.

I was sad because I didn't want to leave. I love Tokyo and it feels like home. For now, anyway. I reached the point where something had to change and I couldn't continue living the life I was living. I started packing and made lists, whilst fretting about how the hell to go about moving country again when I'm still recovering from the huge upheaval of leaving Australia two years ago. I'm too old for this shit, I muttered, standing amongst piles of things that I felt should have represented something, but didn't.

Then, I received an email from the top secret agency to which I had expressed interest regarding their top secret spy vacancies. I had interviewed with them about six weeks earlier, but was unsuccessful in getting that particular role. They wanted me in for another job - this one much better than the first and more in line with my interests, i.e., high-tech surveillance of the Asian arm of the organization, including China, Taiwan, Singapore, and Hong Kong.

Four weeks and four interviews later, I found out last week that I have the job. Big oo-ah! I get to stay in Japan with a brilliant job with an International Spy Agency and an amazing salary that will mean I have a lot more options and my time here will be far more enjoyable. I'd love to tell you more about it all, but as a top secret Spy working in a big, well-known building in Tokyo located in Roppongi, I'd have to kill you if I gave you details.

Tokyo Midtown SpyHQ

So, Gaijin Girl morphs into Salarygirl and joins the ratrace tomorrow. Having worked in the gaming industry for the last two years, my wardrobe didn't contain any Spy-appropriate attire. And here began the dilemma. In Australia, I am considered slim. In Tokyo, where the sizes in Gap begin at 000 (truly, that's 'triple zero', people) I am comparatively obese. Also at 5'9", there are slim-pickings for clothes.The size XL shirts I wore to the interviews were gaping around the bust as the buttons strained to contain my (admittedly, not that large) bosoms. Hehe, no wonder I got the job! Still, after racing around Tokes for the last few days, I have finally found a few suits and some slightly better fitting shirts. I don't particularly like what I have, but choice is not a luxury I have. The clothes fit, and that's all I can hope for at this stage.

I'm not quite sure where this leaves this blog or GG. She's been fun, but I have a feeling she won't be a relevant voice anymore, and it could be time to lay her to rest. To be honest, I doubt I'll have much time for blogging. I haven't been told the hours I'm working because they're not set. SpyCentral pay well, but they expect a lot back and it might take me a bit of time to find a balance. (Someone from SpyCentral emailed me the other night at 11.00pm. This is not uncommon in Tokyo, or the Spy industry, in general.) This may sound appalling to some, but I am so looking forward to the challenge and can't wait to get into it. It's a whole new beginning, and exactly the sort of thing I came over to do. *has difficulty restraining herself*

On a personal note, I haven't emailed anyone for about four months, so if I owe you one, I hope to get in touch shortly. Things have been so up in the air I couldn't write to say what I was up to because it kept changing every few hours. Literally. Also, I haven't been commenting on other blogs much, but I do read them through my reader. Just like to say that I am still in awe of all your words.

And lastly, because this is Tokyo, here is a photo showing a little alley across the road from SpyHQ. Old and new, east and west, sit side by side -- they don't clash, rather, they co-exist.

Sunday: Part II

After crashing about on Mount Fuji, we were dropped at Lake Ashi where we found the GG-mobile. Not quite as good as Batman's, but it provided an interesting diversion.


But the GG-mobile was forgotten once we spotted Cap'n-san sailing into view!


We waved hello just before we boarded something slightly more high-tech to take us around the lake.



Mount Komagatake loomed ahead, and a cable car rattled its way to the top. The views were spectacular, and these photos certainly do not do it justice.




Finally, coming down the mountain, a view of amazing Fuji-san looming silently and watching over the surrounding terrain.

It's Still All About Meme Me

Dive has picked out an ol' favourite and breathed new life into it. Here it is again:

1. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

George W. Bush

2. You can flip a switch that will wipe any band or musical artist out of existence. Which one will it be?

Paris Hilton. OK, technically, she is not an artist or a musician, but she has released some warbling CD. Although even if she hadn't, she should still be destroyed.

3. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

The Clown.

4. What is your favourite cheese?

Gorgonzola

5. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your immediate disposal. What kind will you make?

Chicken schnitzel, lettuce, tomato, avocado, tasty cheese on sourdough. With butter and mayonnaise.

6. You, Elvis and Princess Diana are in a dog sled, fleeing across the Siberian wastes with wolves in hot pursuit. The wolves are catching up fast. Who would you throw out to gain speed and why?

I'd push them both off because they're weighing down the sled too much and it would keep the wolves occupied for hours.

7. You have the opportunity to sleep with the movie celebrity of your choice. We are talking no-strings-attached sex and it can only happen once. Who is the lucky celebrity of your choice?

Zach Braff

8. You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who do you pick?

Ewan McGregor (he sings!)

9. Now that you’ve slept with two different people in a row, you seem to be having an excellent day because you just came across a hundred-dollar bill on the sidewalk. Holy shit, a hundred bucks! How are you gonna spend it?

Put it towards dinner for Zach and Ewan, so they can regain their strength.

10. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

Italy

11. Upon arrival to the aforementioned location, you get off the plane and discover another hundred-dollar bill. Now that you are in the new location, what are you gonna do?

Take Zach and Ewan to the nearest pub. Hey, can I help it if the boys tagged along coz they can't get enough of me?

12. Your dream date. Who, where and why?

Date with Spike that turns into the two of us kicking some serious bad arse and saving the world. Because I'm a superhero and that's what I do.

13. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. It is…?

Champagne

14. Girls and gay guys: You're in bed with Marilyn Monroe, Doris Day and Salma Hayek. Who's gonna be the lucky girl? (you're only allowed one).
And similarly, guys and lesbians: You're in bed with Cary Grant, Paul Newman and Johnny Depp. Who's gonna be the lucky guy? (again, you're only allowed one). Give your reasons.

Sorry, I don't like my choices. Salma's a troll, Doris is too wholesome and Marilyn too insipid. Hey, I gotta have standards.

15. Rufus appears out of nowhere with a time-travelling phone booth. You can go anytime in the PAST. What time are you travelling to and what are you going to do when you get there?

I would travel to London, circa 1665, after Charles II was restored to the English throne. I would go to Whitehall and eat, drink and be merry in the bawdy society he created after the boring puritanical rule of Oliver Cromwell. I would go and see the plays of Dryden, Congreve and Wycherley. My wig would be bigger, better, higher and whiter than anyone else's. I would wear gorgeous gowns, show off my impressive cleavage and flirt outrageously. I would be very, very drunk. Good times. When do I leave?

16. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

I am she who must be obeyed.

17. You have been given the opportunity to create the half-hour TV show of your own design. What is it called and what’s the premise?

It's called Gaijin Girl Strikes Again. Its premise is the sorry existence of an Australian woman in Japan who resorts to blogging stupid memes to entertain herself. But then she meets two guys, Zach and Ewan, and moves to Italy and lives happily ever after with her two fellas in a grand old castle. With minions.

18. What is your favorite curse word?

Tosser.

19. You have a choice of two doors, one of which you MUST go through; the first leads to a roomful of spiders, the second to a roomful of clowns. Which is it to be?

I take this option every morning when I turn up to work. The Clowns.

20. Your house is on fire! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. So what’s the item?

My passport. Don't leave home without it.

21. One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

Tell them to stop just standing around my bed like freaks, as I'm paying them by the hour, and to get back to work cleaning GGHQ.

22. You have George W. Bush and Osama bin Laden locked in a small room together. It's airtight so both the fuckers are gonna suffocate anyway, but what amusing weapon do you give them to make it more entertaining?

I'd give GWB a copy of the Qur'an and Osama a Bible. Let the games begin.

23. The Angel of Death has descended upon you. Fortunately, the Angel of Death is pretty cool and in a good mood, and it offers you a half-hour to do whatever you want before you bite it. Whatcha gonna do in that half-hour?

Why wait? Bite me already.

24. Truthfully, what underwear are you currently wearing?

None.

25. You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What’s it gonna be?

I'm already a superhero.

26. You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

Sitting on a rowboat after midnight on Loch Morag in Scotland. A fit Scottish army bloke was rowing and I had a glass of red wine in my hand to warm me from the freezing air. It was a full moon and a piper was standing on another boat not far away, piping his tunes. The haunting sounds echoed through the glen and the moonlight reflected off the loch. One of the most magical moments of my life.

27. Moses trips on his robe and drops the stone tablets. Commandment number eleven is broken off. He leaves it there as his back is killing him. What does it say?

"Thou shalt disregard the first ten commandments."

28.You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

I have blocked all horrible experiences from my accessible memory. No wait ... there was that Pseudo Echo concert back in 1984. That's gotta go.

29. Rufus reappears with the time machine and a custard pie. Who's gonna get it?

No one because I scoff the custard pie and head off to explore the pyramids.

30. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-travelling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But you can move to anywhere else in the world! What country are you going to live in now?

I'm going to stay in Italy with Zach and Ewan because I'm a time-travelling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. Try and stop me.

31. What part of your body would you change (no, you are NOT perfect; you gotta answer this one) and why?

I'd like to have thick, straight hair, not wild, fluffy hair that takes ages to manage.

32. You have been eternally banned from every single bar in the world except for ONE. Which one is it gonna be?

There's a pub on Cockburn St in Edinburgh. Can't remember the name of it, but that'll do.

33. What's the last thing you ate?

Lime chu-hi.

34. Hopefully you didn’t mention this in the super-powers question…. If you did, then we’ll just expand on that. Suddenly, you have gained the ability to float. Who are you going to show this to first?

Float? What sort of dumb-arse question is this? I can already float. That's the first thing you learn when you start swimming. I showed my mum first!

35. The constant absorption of magical moonbeams mixed with the radioactive vegetables you consumed earlier has given you the ability to resurrect the dead celebrity of your choice. So which celebrity will you bring back to life?

Beethoven. He deserves all those royalties after living as a pauper all his life. Plus he created the most beautiful music I have ever heard and he might fancy composing some more music.

36. The Celestial Gates of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, once again Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person, etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

I'd be hesitant to bring back anyone in case they came back 'wrong' like Buffy did. It didn't matter with Beethoven as he was already mad as a cut snake. Or just deaf.

37. What’s your theme song?

I'm Turning Japanese.

38 When did you last have sex?

When I was foolish enough to believe he was who he said he was.

39. Buffy, Willow or Xander?

Angel.

40. Who’s up next?

If you're reading this, you're up.

Sunday: Part I

My time in Japan has taught me to appreciate the smaller things in life: to pay attention to details and to honour the minutiae. Somewhat. At best, I may now notice a tiny cherished flower valiantly growing from a crack in the footpath a millisecond before I inadvertently crush the life out of its precious, delicate petals with my shoe. I can't help it; I focus on the big-picture and don't notice the varying levels of nuance, the appreciation of which is at the core of Japanese culture.

With this in mind, you may be able to imagine my absolute elation upon seeing something through which I can finally identify (again, somewhat) with a commonly held obsession in Japan. [Warning: once again, there will be many photos of essentially the same vista.] So, the big picture? Well, here it is, baby: Fuji-san!




At 3,776 metres, Fuji-san is a mere pimple on the earth's surface compared to the towering majesty of Mount Everest at 8,848 metres; however, this fact is completely irrelevant to this post. I just like stats. And perspective (because it's all about the big picture, you see).

The mountain last erupted in 1708, and is still classified as an active volcano, although with a low risk of eruption. Tall, conical volcanoes are common in subduction zones where tectonic plates — the outer plates of the earth's crust — meet and move in relation to each other, with one sliding under the other into the earth's mantle. Subduction zones are also known for producing massive earthquakes due to their high levels of geological activity. Fuji-san hovers over an area where three such tectonic plates bump and grind.


The photos above are views of both the valley and the far-off Japan Alps, and a closer shot of the peak [below]. I took these from the 5th station (altitude 2300 metres) and we didn't climb any higher than that. And when I say 5th station, I mean thriving village more than halfway up the mountain; and when I say climb, I mean the bus climbed the winding tarmac and dropped us off outside the restaurant for lunch.


We were lucky in that it was such a beautiful, although hazy, day. The sky was blue except for around the summit where plenty of moisture was in the air. It was absolutely freezing wandering around the 5th station, so climbing will definitely have to take place in summer.

Until then, I borrowed some photos from Wikipedia of the summit.


I've always had a vision of sitting zen-like on top of the mountain while looking out over the world. I never once envisaged having to queue up to do so.

Toyama

Elections were recently held for Tokyo's mayor. The same guy was re-elected back into office, whatever his name is, but about 15,000 people voted for ths dude.

Shame I'm not allowed to vote. He warns that people would be terrified. Heck, even he will be terrified. This stuff is pure gold.

Winds of Change

Just like the spring blossoms, the mood at GGHQ also feels as though the beauty of the moment has passed and that life in Japan was just temporary.

The Clown told us that the company is going bust, and I haven't yet found another job. I'm going through the horrible going-for-interviews thing -- some people like them, but I dread them like a dollop of peanut butter on my toast. I know I'm always threatening to leave Japan, but this time I think I may actually have to. It's not immediate as my visa is valid until July, so if the company stays afloat until then, so shall I.

So ... I'm stressed. I'm sad. I'm feckin' tired. I'm also reflecting back over my time here -- I'm not ready to leave; I feel as though I've only just begun to settle in properly. I write this only to explain why I've not been posting, and why I probably won't be posting much until I get sorted.

In the meantime, GG has fallen in with a band of pirates (omg, I always wanted to be a pirate!) and is having a rollicking adventure with Cap'n-san. If you're pining for some tales from Japan, jump onboard and say ahoj to Cap'n Dyke, Lesbian Pirate Queen and Rogue Blogger and you'll have a terrific read while you're there.

A true story-teller Cap'n-san do be.

What Would You Do If You Were Given Five Minutes To Live?

In light of my recent 'nut-induced brush with death, I have been contemplating things spiritual and metaphysical. What, I wondered idly to myself, would I do if I were told that my time on this ravaged planet would end at a given time?


Anyhoo, my reverie did not result in any earth-shattering conclusions as working for Clown-san is far too annoying and drives me to seek release playing this game.

Post your score in the comments and we'll see who the real winner is.

--
Update: Okey, Hamish is the winner. His best score so far is 1:25, which kicks my feeble 3:19 right back into the shark's mouth.

'How to Die' or 'The Peanut Cookie'

Top ten reasons why it's not a good idea to raid your friends' kitchen when babysitting your wee bf:

10. You discover some fabulous looking cookies. You eat one. It has peanuts in it.

9. Your chest begins to feel as though it's being squeezed in a vice, while your heart flutters like a little bird in a (rib)cage.

8. When you try to swallow through your swollen throat, you feel the peristalsis wave go all the way down your now-very-sore oesophagus to your aching stomach.

7. You have to spend 5000 yen on a taxi home because you're too sick to take the train.

6. You are sweating under the bedclothes, but the second you move, you are wracked by uncontrollable shivering.

5. Your eyelids are so swollen you think Rocky's trainer will have to come and cut them open so you can see.

4. Ditto for your ears and hands.

3. You have a rash all over your chest.

2. You lull yourself into a fitful sleep by repeating the words 'anaphylactic shock'.

1. You start making up newspaper headlines to keep the fear at bay: "Decomposing Australian Woman Found Dead In Tokyo Two Weeks after Death. Peanuts."

Feeding My Mask Obsession

As the saying goes, spring has sprung, and what better way to welcome its warmer wafts than to drink with thousands of other revellers under the cherry blossoms on your blue tarp? Get yourself a new spring wardrobe. The only downfall of this festive season is the high amount of pollen in the air, which raises the problem of how to match your facemask with that cute new Prada dress.

Don't panic. This is Japan.








The last two have actually left me speechless.

--
Pics courtesy of the Daily Portal where you can also get a full rundown on the mask-making process. [Site in Japanese.]

Cruisin' On A Sat'dy Night

I know I'm having a blogging break, but went for a cruise on Tokyo Bay on the Funasei funship, so here are some quickie pics.

I swore I would never post photos of food on this blog, but due to being half-cut from an unanticipated visit to an Irish pub ridiculously early in the day, most of the evening ended up looking a little like this:

Rainbow Bridge, I think.

... and non-incriminating and/or decent photo choices are limited. Please remember that copious amounts of wine had washed down my gullet. Very quickly followed by most of the stuff here:

Hello, sailor!

Turns out I spent quite a bit of time out on deck, just admiring the view.

'Twas a fabulous evening that finished up in the early hours of Sunday morn somewhere in the 'Pong.

Here's the boat's interior before mayhem descended upon its peaceful ambience. [photo from their website linked above.]