Retail Therapy

The Tokyoites have certainly embraced shopping as a legitimate pastime, so with that in mind, I spent a couple hours shopping in Shibuya 109, which is a mecca for young fashionistas sporting the latest trends. If you are over 30, you will feel out of place here. Actually, I felt pretty out of place anyway since I was the only woman in the place whose knees were covered. The uniform of choice for a young Japanese woman is comprised of a miniskirt, leggings, high boots, and some sort of cute top. That's cute, not skanky; the emphasis is generally on feminine and sweet, rather than hoochie mamma. However, as you go further up in floors, the attire does get a bit edgier, with more black, leather, and particularly for men, chains and ripped jeans.

Downstairs at the Hello Kitty store, there was a display of rhinestone studded items, including a guitar, a miniature piano, cell phone accessories, notebooks, etc. The caption was "Bling Me!"

Since Asians are not well known for having curves, I guess it makes sense that there is so much focus on legs. I have never seen so many varieties of socks, high socks and tights in my life. I was going to buy a pair of Super Mario socks, but then I got distracted by something else (fleece overalls perhaps) and forgot to go back and get them. I was also really amused by the store called "American Casual Wear" which featured colorful varsity jackets, jeans and corduroys in bright greens, reds and yellows. Suffice it to say, not many Americans casually wear any of this.

Engrish is omnipresent on clothing, labels and signs. It makes me wonder if they bother asking someone to grammar and spell check writing before they rush off to produce clothing, or if the Japanese simply don't care. I saw a hoodie for "Chicago Univer" and considered buying it.

Most clothing was priced higher than I was willing to pay, but items on the "Price Down" racks tended to be reasonable. I choose a few things and tried them on. Whoa, everything fit perfectly! I hadn't even bothered to look at the sizing tags. All you people who are average size in the US should appreciate it.

The Japanese are ridiculously polite to the point of it being uncomfortable for me. Every retail transaction is a theatrical show, as the clerk makes a point of showing you the item you're buying, having you place your payment in a tray, gingerly handing back your receipts and/or change, all while smiling and bowing slightly. When you try on clothing, they undo all the buttons and take everything off the hangers for you before you step inside the dressing room. One time, after buying something, I reached for the package that I'd bought and the clerk waved me away. She walked me to the door, then presented me with the bag handle, and bowed until I'd left the premises. Is this really necessary??

They also love excess packaging here, with every item (already wrapped in several layers of paper or plastic) placed in a paper bag that is taped, and then placed inside another larger bag. Having said that, Tokyo has a great municipal recycling program. Every trash can has slots for cans, bottles and paper. If only this could take off in the US as well.

Despite my staunch anti-consumerism, eventually the neon lights, blaring pop music and entreaties of "Irashaimase!" from the store clerks got to me: I bought clothing in a store (so this excludes Woot t-shirts) for the first time in at least a year. This dress is definitely not my usual style, but I've decided I'll be wearing it for the Irony.

Ikebana (Flower Arranging) Class

The Meguro International Friends Association (MIFA) is a group dedicated to international outreach and offers a variety of workshops and language classes designed to breakdown cultural borders. I saw that they offer a weekly ikebana class and signed up. Who says I can't be domestic??

After introducing myself as a first time attendee, I was assigned a teacher who tried to explain the principles of ikebana to me in limited English and my limited Japanese vocabulary. No matter, art is a universal language, right? I chose a packet of flowers and unwrapped the bundle to find some long wooden twigs, some green leafy things, and some pink um, does anyone know what kind of flowers these are?

Anyway, my teacher explained that there were many, many schools of ikebana. We began with a basin filled partially with water, with a spiky pad at the bottom to attach the plants. I selected a twig and attached it to the pad, then cut a sprig of flowers such that it was two-thirds the height of the twig. My teacher looked on, making clucking noises of approval or adjustments if I was doing it wrong. "So so so so," she said, "Bee-you-tee-ful!"

The other major pointers I learned were that triangles were good and harmonious, and that the tips of flowers should be curved toward the center of the arrangement, as if they were arching toward the sun. Of course, this might be different in another school of ikebana, so don't take my word for it.

After placing a bunch of plants, I stepped back and admired my work. But wait, my teacher pulled out a tall vase and asked me to do something with the leftover flowers. This proved to be a bit more difficult, since I was now working with the discarded flowers from the previous arrangement, and it is hard to adjust the heights of items in a vase. But hey, if you start off with beautiful ingredients, it's hard to screw them up.

The final products:

The MIFA coordinator was pretty impressed that I came all the way out to Meguro for this workshop and snapped my photo before I left. At that point, my teacher had painstakingly bundled my flowers into newspapers, and I didn't have the heart to tell her that I would be walking around the city all day and would probably throw them out at the first opportunity.

How to Be the Worst Bridesmaid Ever

It has been suggested that I write a book titled, "101 Ways to Destroy a Wedding, Tried and True." I don't think I succeeded in destroying this weekend's wedding (arguably for the best), however here is a quick list of ways to passive-aggressively suck at being a bridesmaid.

1. Wait till the last minute to pick up your dress. Announce that you seem to have gained/lost a lot of weight, but you're sure that you'll be able to lose/gain it back by the wedding date.
   
2. Have unpierced ears. Refuse to get them pierced when requested by the bride. When further pressed, flat out tell her there's no way in hell you'll wear clip-on earrings.
   
3. Skip the bridal shower.
4. Agree to come to the rehearsal dinner. Discover that attending would require taking two precious vacation days. Have your boss help you fake an email with new "last-minute" assignments. Skip the rehearsal dinner.
   
5. Pretend that traffic was really bad as you drove to town. Feign tiredness. Skip the bachelorette party.
   
6. The week before the wedding, announce that your car has broken down and they're having trouble getting the parts to replace it, but you're sure it'll be fixed in time so there's no need to look into rental cars. Don't pick up when the panicked bride begins calling twice a day to check on the status of your car.
   
7. Acquire interesting tan lines over the summer. My personal favorites include Sports Bra, Birkenstock, Watch and Backpack. Bonus points if you can tan in messages like "Divorce Rate = 50%."
   
8. Pick up the (unlabeled) wedding favors (tea packets). Ask, "What is this? Is it a moist toilette? Or a condom?"
   
9. Get an expensive manicure with the bridal party. Casually flick your hand into a fan, thereby chipping a nail within 5 minutes of the completion of your manicure.
10. Go to an 8 am hair/make-up appointment. Blink furiously every time the mascara wand gets within a foot of your eyeball. Refuse to put on fake eyelashes.
11. Be ravenously hungry post-make-up-ing. (The other girls curiously seem to insist that they're full from last night's dinner.) Start eating the muffins that the bride's mother brought, and thereby smudge and remove a good deal of lip gloss and powder.
12. Wear a shirt with a tight collar to the hair salon. Struggle to get it over your hair when changing into your bridesmaid dress. The dislodged curls will add a desirable wind-tousled effect.
    
13. Forget to shave your legs.
14. And armpits.
15. Acquire several large mosquito bites on your arms the night before. Scratch vigorously. The redness of the bites will help bring out the red in your dress.
16. Think about the paltry breakfast and zero lunch you've had. Growl your stomach loudly during the ceremony. Think about how the reception has no food (except cake) and no open bar. Growl some more.
    
17. Lock your knees while standing behind the altar. Pass out dramatically and divert all attention towards you.
18. Take off your heels as soon as the ceremony is over and walk around in bare feet during the reception.
    
19. While in the receiving line, point and whisper loudly, "Wait, is that the groom's sister? The one who tried to break up this engagement?"
20. After the best man gives an engaging toast to the groom, stare blankly and opt out of giving a toast for the bride.
    
21. The night before, help choreograph a routine to "Dancing Queen" for the reception. During the performance, change your steps just enough to make the rest of the group question if they're wrong, e.g. start on the other foot or face the opposite direction.
    

And now, because "pics or it didn't happen," here's me painfully awake at said 8 am hair appointment:

Creativity

When's the last time you made a paper snowflake? Drew a cartoon? Decorated a vase?

Melissa invited a few of us over to make valentines yesterday afternoon, and I was struck by the way I froze, blanking out on what to do, stymied for ideas. It's been a long time since I've had to do something visually artistic, and as I looked at the pile of stickers, stamps, ribbon and brightly colored construction paper in front of me, I felt completely lost. Where were all my kindergarten-era arts and crafts skills?

Don't get me wrong, it's not as though having a full-time job has turned me into a soulless automaton. I take time out to be creative in other forms: through writing, in music, and in mathematics. (Yes, math does require creative juices.) However, I can't remember the last time I had to create a piece of visual art. I hesitantly grabbed a pair of scissors and began cutting out a heart. Meanwhile, Katherine was cutting out an elaborate silhouette with two people kissing and holding hands. It was practically on the order of a traditional Chinese paper cut. After surveying her work, I decided I should focus on jazzing up my cards via dinosaur stickers and glitter glue.

Eventually, my creative juices kicked in and I managed to assemble a few Valentines of debatable artistic vision. They are currently in the mail, so they should definitely be in mailboxes by the 14th. If you're reading this and didn't get a valentine, please don't take it personally; it probably just means you were less important than my mom. :p

Something Borrowed, Something Red

Well, I can now officially cross off "bridesmaid" on my list of things to do. Emily asked me to be part of her bridal party, and according to Matt's mom, short of pregancy, I can't say no, so...

To be honest, I haven't seen Emily in years. She doesn't even go by the same name any more! (That's right, not one, but two of my friends independently changed their names to "Mia" after high school graduation.) However, we were very good friends in middle school. And um, I love doing things for the Story, and this will certainly be an interesting one. Besides, I can visit my grandmother and cousins while I'm in Louisville.

By the way, she's chosen a bright red strapless number for the bridesmaids dresses. Apparently, I have to pick up the dress in Chicago and get it tailored to fit me. Then, I need to buy matching shoes. There's something about a hair appointment as well. And since the wedding is mid-August, I will probably need to do something about tan lines. This is so not my usual style. Omghelp.

On Proposals

In between the creme brulee stout and (no root) beer floats last night, the ideal marriage proposal popped up for discussion. This is not a very real possibility for me at this point, but Viki should perhaps be dropping more vigorous hints if she wants to pull off her vision. Without further ado, here's a sampling of what modern women are hoping for (we're not insane, I swear).

Ricky
Situation: Under the Northern Lights
Pros: Beautiful location, cheap excluding travel costs, quiet location outdoors ensures that he will not make a fool of himself in front of crowds
Cons: Limited time frame and location options, requires the fickle cooperation of Mother Nature

Viki
Situation: She is attending a Broadway show or a concert, and at intermission, they have a special announcement and Matt jumps on stage. Cue romantic words and then bursting into song. To the cheers and applause of the audience, Viki accepts.
Pros: The level of coordination and planning would truly signal commitment, and there's nothing like being the star of your own show on Broadway.
Cons: The level of coordination and planning makes this almost impossible to pull off. Also, it'd be asking a lot for Matt to belt out a song...maybe we could settle for having someone else come out and sing, or better yet, having someone else sing while Matt lipsyncs, Chinese Olympics-style.

Me
Situation: He gets down on one knee and says, "There is a set R equipped with 2 binary operations called addition and multiplication such that (R, +) is abelian group with identity element 0, and..."
Pros: This brings proposals to an unfathomable level of dorkiness.
Cons: None.

Addendum (Rhea wants in on this too):

Rhea
Situation: On a trip to Cornell, mystery Cornell engineer takes her to Olin library, to the 4th floor-- romance studies. He gets down on one knee and says "in spite of all my time spent in Duffield, I too have always wanted to spend hours and hours in the library--Olin, Mann, or Uris. I proclaim my love for your here for that reason. Not to mention...I think you wouldn't accept if I did it anywhere else. Oh and I'll be sure to teach you E & M 101 tonight". He pops open a bottle of champagne, quietly of course. Rhea calls Crystal to announce that she's eloping and that they need to arrange something with Sage Hall so that she and mystery eng. can have their chimes concert complete with Nessun Dorma, the Alma Mater duet, and Taras to help.

Eyebrow Threading

In the latest installment of "Crystal can pretend to be a girl," I impulsively got my eyebrows threaded yesterday. Katherine stumbled across a salon in Chinatown which offered it, and we had some time to kill, so for a belated birthday present, she provided me with excruciating pain.

Just kidding! To clarify, threading is an Asian hair removal method (apparently it's big in India), where you take a piece of thread, loop and twist it, and then somehow pluck out hairs as you twist the thread. It's fast, compared to tweezers, and relatively painless, compared to waxing. I was a bit apprehensive after watching Katherine tear up while getting her brows done, but the procedure really wasn't that bad, simply some uncomfortable pinches. After about 5 minutes, it was over, and I had drastically different eyebrows, with a more defined arch and neater presentation. All this without the mess and irritation of wax.

Of course, this didn't come without the obligatory chastisement that comes with these sorts of salons. As I sat down, I mumbled something about "never doing this before," as the stylist took a look at my face and shrieked, "Oh my god, so hairy! You have to come back next time, you'll see that this will keep things much cleaner, and it feels better too." Again, in my defense, I'd like to say I was simply born with really thick eyebrows. "It's ok," said Katherine, "Last time the woman looked at me and asked if I wanted to work on my mustache! I said no, and she clucked at me and pursed her lips." Oh, the guilt trips.

Here's the before and after:

Cook-A-Thon

Ana decided to host a Cook-a-Thon last night, with each person demonstrating how to make a dish, and then subsequently the dish getting devoured by the rest of us. For ironic purposes, she decided to make it a chick night and only invite girls. That's right, we had a girl-power gathering and belted out Alanis Morissette (including the hidden track at the end - remember that?)...all while in the kitchen, barefoot (but not pregnant).

There was a complete lack of coordination on what dishes to make, but the menu turned out decently balanced anyway. The theme could fairly be called "Things Wrapped Around Other Things." Without further ado, we had:

• Prosciutto wrapped dates and herbed goat cheese
• Baked brie wrapped in phyllo dough with apple
  
• Pork and chive dumplings
• Filipino lumpia, a type of spring roll
  
• Tortilla espanola, similar to a potato & onion omelet
  
• French chocolate torte
  

Katherine and I were responsible for the dumplings, since both of us are authentic Asians, except for her. So it was mostly me putting together the ingredients, while she demonstrated how to wrap a dumpling. It's been a while since I've wrapped dumplings, and I'm proud to say my technique has improved greatly since Chinese school, when everything looked lumpy. I finally mastered the "pinch in the middle, pleat toward the sides" method, which results in a purse-like dumpling with a concave seam. Now if only I could top the wizened, little old ladies who can fold dumplings one-handed.

Less you get too impressed with our formidable cooking skills, I should mention the frequency with which the fire alarm went off. In between baking the brie, the torte, and frying lumpia, we were generating lots of heat and smoke which did not make the alarm happy. Moreover, Vanessa put the fried lumpia on a paper-towel lined plate, and then leaned a little too close to the gas stove. The paper towel caught on fire, and as we doused it in the sink, the lumpia still in the pan began burning too. We kept hitting the fire alarm with a broomstick to turn it off, until it detached from the wall, wires dangling. Oops. Clearly Ana should know better than to invite us over to destroy her place.

As we chilled in the kitchen after dinner and drank the leftover wine, we realized that everyone present lived by themselves, and had the studio apartment. So here's a toast to not having roommates! Don't get me wrong, I loved my housemates from 209, and I'm glad I had that singular college roommate experience sophomore year with MF, but there's something to be said for having your own place.

Simone: "Here's to coming home and being able to take off your pants!"
Me: "Oooh, I do that all the time! Wait, I've been wondering if anyone else does this...do you guys ever pee with the bathroom door open?"
Everyone else: "OMG totally!"

I guess that's more proof that we're generally not as weird as we think we are.

Fairytale Ending plus omgnails

I had a kick-ass Fri night because I:
a) cooked
b) cleaned
c) watched a few episodes of Arrested Development
d) got into a fight with Joe via text message

To explain the last point, last weekend went something like this:
Joe: There's a wine tasting in the park, want to go?
Me: Oh, when/where/how?
Joe: (fills in details) It's expensive but it might be fun to do another picnic in the park. Or we could just do another movie night and cuddle?
Me: Um, actually, I'm going to Wisconsin this weekend. Catch you later?

Next, I will preface by saying I went out all week and really did have my heart set on cooking/cleaning Fri night. So this weekend went something like this:
Joe: There's a really great jazz pianist in town from France at Green Mill Fri/Sat night, interested in going?
Me: Hey, I know this is going to sound really lame, but I was planning on cleaning and stuff tonight, and I have plans on Sat/Sun..

Hmm. Does it sound like I'm blowing him off for a 2nd weekend in a row? Maybe because I am blowing him off for a second weekend in a row?? I'm just so damn lazy, I don't feel like making the effort to hang out every weekend. How do you tell someone they've been downgraded to an acquaintance? At any rate, the response was:

Joe: Who said anything about Sunday??

My reading of this was that he was pissed. Although Matt suggested that maybe he was implying that I was implying a Sat night hangout would extend into an awkward Sun morning breakfast. Uh no. I thought about not responding to this, then Warren convinced me that would be awkward and I shouldn't leave things like that. So, I debated texting "Well, want to do something Mon night?" or better yet, to answer the question:

Me: I did haha.

No response so far!

Well, I hadn't quite expected things to end like that, but it's resolution to something that's been weighing on my mind, so I'm happy even if Kelly insists "you can't text message brake up" (sic).

Anyway, the rest of the weekend was full of similarly awesome firsts, including my first game of flipcup (apparently it's all in bouncing the knees) and my first mani/pedi. Basically, the Fed females decided to get nails done as an ensemble, so we trekked to a nail place and spent an hour inhaling chemical fumes and watching dead skin get sloughed off our feet. Hot! I don't think I'd ever pay to get a mani/pedi on my own (actually, I made Katherine pay yesterday because she owes me money), but it was a fun group experience. Color-wise, I thought about some shade of siren red then decided that me being in a nail salon was enough effort on my part, and settled with light blue fingernails and seafoam green toenails. Also, we've determined that I have unusually large pinky toes (my "jew-toe," if you will). (Everyone else's toes sort of shrink dramatically in size while mine are reasonable and stay sort of the same length.) Check it out: