So tired

"Can’t you see that I am losing my marbles
It’s marvellous losing another, losing another."

It had been months since I'd last seen Katsue Park, a friend I made at the EF school in Evergreen when I volunteered as a language parter for foreign students. Since I was in the area, it was a no brainer that I had to go see her. I took the train 2 hours to Yokomaha, where I waited on a stiff, blue plastic bench on the train platform until she greeted me. I was so excited and filled with overwhelming bubbly happiness, and we babbled on about how we had been in the past few months. We had debated on speaking in either Japanese or English, but instead she ended up speaking in Japanese and I spoke in English....which is pretty much how our friendship works, I guess.

After we came to the conclusion that we were both hungry, as well as each having the mindset of morbidly obese diabetics, we decided to go get ice cream. Which generally means, in Japan, something strange. I can't remember what it was called, but it was a mountain of green tea ice cream teamed with azuki beans, rice cakes, and wiggly squares of green and white Jell-o. After pouring sugar cane syrup all over it, I attempted to finish it all, and failed. Next time I shall conquer. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me...twice....whatever Bush said.

The Yokohama area, especially Minato-Mirai, was really beautiful. Nestled in a wide harbor, the towering buildings reflected off of the grey water as rain fell in torrents upon the sleek grey asphalt. The view from the entrances of the massive shopping malls were stunning, the city lights glittering beneath the darkening sky. The malls themselves were worthy of being gawked at. Stories upon stories stacked up on each other, weaving escalators and staircases winding up the sides of the buildings, massive skylights shining overcast light onto the slick floors of the lobbies. 

One of the things Katsue insisted I check out, much to my EXTREME AGREEMENT, was the Pokecenter Megastore in one of the malls. I drooled and leapt for joy as I hugged plush Pichus, marveled at Pikachu cookies, leafed through Charmander notebooks, and gawked at some of the weirder items such as Pokemon computer mice, DS styluses, and instant curry. I spent a little more than a fortune picking up various items for my friends....who I'm so sad couldn't experience the glory with me. One day....we shall all go back. 

Epic girl talk ensued over super-authentic China Town dim sum. We discussed the usual--jobs, classes, and of course, romance. She said that at her age, she was getting slightly worried about being unmarried, and that the last fling she had was in Olympia with a young man my age. I was pissed that she wouldn't tell me who it was with....considering it's Olympia, and the kid was probably in my class, I would most likely be able to match a face to a...situation....but sadly I was denied access. In regards to my Yohei situation, she gave me a speech in English telling me to "just be an aggressive American, and don't give up. Don't take no for an answer. Wear sexy clothes you wouldn't normally wear. He won't be able to say no. What have you got to lose? If he says no, you can be sad, but it's part of life experience. Just go up to him and tell him you want his ass." This was slightly unsettling considering two years ago Katsue couldn't even introduce herself in English. But I know she's right. Everyone's right--Mayra's right, Jake's right. I'm gonna tell that rat bastard how I feel about him over a plate of tacos when we go out for Mexican food. Then I'm going to hand him the adorable squeaky stuffed panda toy I bought him in China Town, give him puppy eyes with extra cleavage involved, and he won't be able to say no. If he says no, that makes him an asshole. It also gives me grounds to publicly embarrass him when I'm famous.

After dim sum, we wandered the long stretch of Moto-machi, a curvy road lined with world-famous designer shops such as Tiffany's and Louis Vuitton, and lavish bakeries and cafes. Katsue pointed out an apparently famous American grocery store called Union, and I made a beeline right for it. Upon scrounging the aisles delighted in the sliced cheese and cereal boxes, I found just what I had been dying for. 

"TACO SHELLS!!" I cried, tears almost streaming from my wide eyes. Yes, taco shells. But not just the shells--seasoning, salsa, even tortillas if you felt like chewing instead of crunching your delectable homemade Mexican atrocity. But what was I to do? I had a massive garish Pokemon bag full of all the day's purchases. I didn't want to risk carrying shells, easily broken, 2 hours back home to Tanashi--let alone shredded cheese that may go bad and ground beef which would almost definitely spoil. Heartbroken, I came to terms with my decision to return later on. Katsue patted me on the shoulder and told me that there was also an American food store hidden somewhere in the depths of Shinjuku that she would help me find, and that all was not lost. I did, however, make it out with one proud purchase--a jar of spicy pasta sauce. Earlier on in the month, I bought spaghetti, only to realize that I could find nothing in any grocery store even resembling tomato sauce. However, now, that is not the case. I happily swung my jar in its plastic bag as we stepped into a Starbucks for coffee--or rather, a caramel steamer for me, because I have a psuedo-caffeine allergy; also, I am a huge bleeding vagina. But I got a chocolate chip cookie so that's okay.

We talked of my potential transfer to Tamagawa, but the immense cost of tuition that would stand in my way. The sun went down as we discussed college, high school, weight loss, and brothers and sisters. I love Katsue so much--she's so nice to me, and she's also totally bonkers. At 37 years old, she's pretty much more of a sister to me than my own (estranged?) sister ever was.

On the way back to Shibuya from Kikuna, I sat on the train holding my massive orange Pokemon bag and umbrella. The rattling of the train upon the rails shook the car, and the lights of the subway tunnel flashed again and again as they zoomed by. I inhaled as I watched a tired businessman slump against the hard edge of the train seat. I think it's something that maybe happens to everyone as they're growing up, whether they're conscious of it or not. Every few years or so, you find yourself in a situation where you can take a step out of yourself and realize what you've become. It's almost as though you can feel that you've grown. I like to call it leveling up. Which probably, in itself, demotes me a few levels. 

The last epiphany I had was in Hawaii with Glyndyn, on our graduation trip. We lay in our separate queen beds staring up at the ceiling, the darkness pouring in through the open window, curtains billowing from the warm tropical wind. The sound of distant sirens and people laughing down below echoed up to our room from outside. It was that night that I came to a conclusion--every so often, I get myself all pumped up, telling myself that things are gonna change, now, Man. This is a new way of life. Everything's going to be different from now on. But I realized then, that just because you tell yourself shit's going to be different, nothing is going to change unless you really put forth the effort to make it change. I told Glyndyn this, staring into the darkness, hands behind my head.

"That's killer dank, Dude," she replied eloquently, yet undeniably sincerely, and fell asleep.