bonus mini blog 2

"And I know you want it (I know you want it) 
It's easy to see (it's easy to see) 
And in the back of your mind 
I know you should be home with me."

I went out to Shinjuku to buy lipstick and high heels so I can feel good about myself and know that even if he's trying oh so hard not to, when we meet again on Sunday, he's going to be staring at me.

I got off the train and the weather started out innocently enough. It was kind of cloudy, but no big. I went to the 0101 Annex, which I found on accident the last time I got lost downtown, and bought a pair of $30 high heels after having the poor lady run around in circles trying to find cheap shoes that appealed to my fastidious jew standards. After about 20 minutes, I found these ridiculous heels with silver rhinestones that I would never wear unless I was trying to make a point. Which I am, so I happily bought them. Noticing it was starting to rain like hell outside, I also bought a stupid overpriced designer umbrella that folds up into a little bag which I'll never be able to fit it back into. 

The rain came down with such pressure that could blast the eyebrows right off your face. It rushed down in torrents, quickly flooding the streets out of nowhere, hundreds of Asians dashing for the nearest overhang or 7/11 to buy a plastic umbrella. Even if you had an umbrella, you could not be saved. The wind whipped the rain this way and that way and girls in miniskirts and stilettos, who had a hard time walking anyway, were absolutely miserable trying to wade through the puddles and get to the the closest place they could buy a double caramel machiatto. I was walking out of the department store district past the South exit of Shinjuku station, when I noticed that nobody was really walking around. Heaven's floodgates had opened, and these people would be damned if they would ruin their immaculate hair, Burberry purse, or Gucci heels in the dastardly rain storm. It was the weirdest thing. It's not like it was bone-chilling freezing like it gets in the Pacific Northwest. It was really warm, in fact. I watched the crowds of people gathering nervously beneath the overhang, before I stepped out onto the sidewalk. "It's just rain," I said to no one in particular. They watched me, in silence. "It's only water!" I lowered my umbrella, immediately drenching myself from the shower-like pressure of the pouring rain. A young couple laughed at me. I walked off, kicking a giant puddle, which made absolutely no difference seeing as how I was already soaked through. I took the long way back to my station, ankle-deep in the sidewalk flood that was forming. 

Japanese people need to fucking lighten up.