Yeah yeah, I'll get back to the trip log (eventually. No idea why I'm being so lazy about it). But I have urgent news.
Been in this apartment for eight months, right? Learned my closest neighbors idiosyncrasies, pretty much, even though I still don't know any of their names (I'm just glad I haven't been roped into babysitting...). The two ladies on my left have guys come over that I never see. And an indiscriminate amount of children. I can't figure out whether it's two or three but I think they are between the ages of 10 and 14. Your guess is as good as mine. They are never home. I mean, like never. It's not a case of me noticing that they are gone once in a blue moon, it's me noticing that they are there once in a blue moon. And I don't mean that they are quiet: They are loud. Screaming, t.v., instrument practice, talking loudly on the patio, kids banging up and down the stairs, fights, smoke alarm going off (for a while it went off once a day. But that was in a phase where they were actually THERE every day), someone leaving the bathroom fan on better yet both fans on.
I'm kinda glad they are never there. Unadulterated noise from them would drive me nuts.
I think they come by about once a week, at this point. Lord knows why.
On the other side I have a small Mexican family. Husband (nice guy), wife (hates my guts), a toddler who runs out of the house on a regular basis but naked, and a baby that I've seen so few times that I can count on one hand. I think they used to have a cat. And the baby used to have colic, or something, he cried ALL of the time. The cat was nuts though: sounded like he was having a darned cat fight with himself in the middle of their living room. But then, he might have been underneath the complex....
The baby hardly cries anymore (thank goodness), no more crazy cat, the wife has toned down on her neuroticness (seriously, who needs five different kinds of vacuums, and who uses them at two in the morning? 0.o), but I just heard the weirdest thing:
Someone snoring loudly enough, in their living room that it was quite literally rumbling through my wall.
I could even hear it over my laptop playing music.
*facepalm*
Regards from Purgatory,
Monica
Friday, August 27, 2010
Thursday, August 26, 2010
This Old Dog...
I've learned something very important today:
Food left in the fridge for months doesn't magically go away. Neither does it magically stay in good condition. In fact, chances are, the longer you leave it in there, the more desperate the situation gets.
Did you know that Jello left in the fridge for 2+ months gets as hard as glass? After growing some spectacular mold, of course.
It's kinda like resin, really. I've tried the oven, a spoon, a paint scraper....Here comes boiling water!!
Regards from Purgatory,
Monica
Food left in the fridge for months doesn't magically go away. Neither does it magically stay in good condition. In fact, chances are, the longer you leave it in there, the more desperate the situation gets.
Did you know that Jello left in the fridge for 2+ months gets as hard as glass? After growing some spectacular mold, of course.
It's kinda like resin, really. I've tried the oven, a spoon, a paint scraper....Here comes boiling water!!
Regards from Purgatory,
Monica
Monday, August 16, 2010
Side Note 1
Train Cards
Now, don't let the currency fool you. Sure, 100￥（yen) doesn't seem like a lot because it comes in a coin about the size of a quarter. But you have to remember: exchange right now says that it's 80￥ to $1 USD. So use your money wisely.
The trains?
They cost anywhere between 120￥--400￥ depending on what train you take (rapid, rapid special, local, or metro) and how far you go. These numbers are just from my experience, mind. You might think that $4+ is way spendy for a 20 min. train ride, but what you don't understand is that I traveled from Shibuya to Harajuku in 20 minutes by only one or two trains, and that's 150 km at least. (93.2 miles according to google)
Trains are FAST here. Way fast. So yes, they are spendy. You have two options, buy a ticket that will get you from one place to the next (and you better have lotsa fare on it, because if it runs out the toll machine just eats it, lets you through, then you can't get through the next), or a card. There are two options from there: Suica, which can buy everything and your mother. Or ToMe, which is short for Tokyo Metro and will only get you on specific ToMe trains in the Tokyo area. I think there is Pasmo too, but I'm not sure of the difference between Pasmo and Suica.
Heck, you can even use Suica on the DRINK machines!
As far as I can tell, Suica and Pasmo can be used interchangable, although there seems to be trains that only accept Pasmo passes (I never had any problems with that, although I did see train lines indicating that) and the websites say that Pasmo has a 500￥deposit and a 210 charge for cancelling. And you can get passes with your name on it.
Okay, Pasmo is only for Tokyo area, Suica can go just about everywhere north east and west of Tokyo. Not all the way to Kanto or Hiroshima, but far enough. Which is awesome.
I'd link photos, but I can't read Japanese and I'm having keyboard problems >.<>
You slide it over an electronic reader, tickets get inserted and spat back out, and it'll either flash blue for OKAY! Or red, lots of noise, and the gate closing for NO! When you make it through, a little display screen tells you whether it charged you (if you haven't ridden a train yet, it won't), and how much money you have left.
Neat!
They are convenient, because the gates only accept passes or tickets, not money, but you don't get any discounts. If you use a Pasmo or Suica card on a bus, however, you'll get bus points that will be used to further bus trips later.
I have a Suica! Look it up, it's got a penguin on it. I suspect it's a spare card of either Miki's sister, or herself, since she has a student pass with her name and photo on it.
Btw, Suica stands for Super Urban Intelligence Card. No joke.
Oh, and on the train?
You have to be QUIET.
The first time I realized this was an actual rule, and not that everyone was boring, I was shocked. Only some line speak or have signs for stops in English. And one informed me "Please put your phones on vibrate or turn them off, and do NOT make any calls on the train. And please, no talking."
Wow!
No wonder everyone glared at me for chatting with Miki>.<
Pretty much they ALL play games on their cells (or text), read, or sleep. Yes, sleep. 80% of one of the trains we rode was full of sleeping ppl. Even when it's so crowded ppl are standing, ppl sleep. (And yes, I became one of these weird ppl. I couldn't help it, I was tired!!!)
Regards from Purgatory
Monica
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
Day One
Airports are nerve wracking. First thing off, they slam you with parking ticket. What? You're already charging me money?
EGADS!
To get into the parking garage, you pull up to a metal sentry with a huge green button that somehow reminds me of jabbing a clown's nose.
Ahooogaa!
It should honk, really, it should. So out pops a ticket, like a tongue, and you hafta snatch it quick! Otherwise the jerk behind you will start honking his horn.
NOT like a clown's nose.
Also, there's the red and striped bar in front of you, that supposedly stops you from going anywhere.
Hullooooo!
2 ton car totally trumps flimsy bar that will snap like a twig when I drive through it.
According to the movies, though, this causes all sorts of bells and whistles. I suspect these are just because the special effects crew is bored. It is very likely.
The next it is old hat+ park the car, ride the elevator, almost get trapped in the revolving door, approach the ticket counter.
I don't think we could've entered the building farther away from Alaska Airlines if we tried.
The electronic kiosk was a bust. And yes, I mean the colloquialism that means "dead end" or "bad choice". Even though it says Monica (middle name Millner on my passport, the electronic signature only read the Monica Millner bits. My plane ticket is for Monica (middle name Millner, so the kiosk thought my passport was for the wrong person. I told it to ignore that, and we moved on.
Then it asked me how many bags I was checking. Apparently this was a trick question, because next to my name it said checked bags allowed for this ticket (0).
When I pressed two, and hit enter, I fully expected the glitchy thing to light up and start wailing like a bumped arcade machine.
ERROR! ERROR!
Then it went black, flickered, welcomed me to Alaska Airlines and do I need a ticket? Touch the screen to start
Stupid kiosk.
So I got in line for the counter.
Lemme tell ya, flying to a different country makes this part interesting. They quiz you about all sorts of things. Like....have you smoked, practiced safe sex or done drugs?
Just kidding :)
It's more like they type in whatever country you're flying to, and double-check that you fulfill all of their requirements. If the country requires vaccinations, or a visa, you better have proof!
Luckily Japan loves visitors. Visit all you like!
*menacing voice* But don't you dare try and stay here, you white person!
Unless you stay more than 90 days, a visa isn't needed. So all I need is my handy dandy passport :)
In its pink kitty case.
Next was the check point. The lines for A-C were looooong. So long, everyone bunched up altogether and security had to keep straightening people out into separate lines. One suck misinformed security personnel informed me I could go through express since I was "going through Seattle".
The pug-faced guard at the rope convinced me otherwise.
Great. My ride had left because John and Melanie thought that I was all-clear, and I was back to the end of the supermondo long line Luckily, I was informed. I cut through the big bunched up line, and got in a shorter one hidden behind it.
It still wasn't moving that fast.
By now, I was panicking. It was 9:40, my plane "started boarding" at 9:25, and left at 10:05. I was never going to make it!
Then the line shuffler came back and started informing newcomers "Go to the check point for D&E. It's going much faster.
Man, I was off. I wanted that! That check point was just around the corner, so I ran too it and boy was it going fast. So fast, I couldn't read the carry-on rules sign. I had to lean over ribbons, snag a zip-loc baggy and sneak-a-peak while moving. I didn't have much stuff for the little thing. Stuffed in some ben-gay and another cream, fumbled out my passport and boarding pass, and next thing I knew a new station was being opened.
"I can take someone over here!"
I was first there. Booya.
I love ticket checkers. They get such an intense look on their face while reading your information. And no one EVER addresses a single woman, because they are afraid they will get my title wrong.
Well, shucks. It says 'miss' right on my passport!
All the men get "Have a good flight, Mr. Johnson."
And I get "Uh, here. Have a good day."
Thanks.
Well, this guy didn't say much. Just wielded his orange highlighter like an out of control light saber all over my pass.
Shing! Shing!
They've gotten much better at this x-ray thing. Empty your pockets, take out your laptop, liquids 3oz or less only in a zip-loc, shoes and jacket off, carry-on off and dump it all in tubs.
Put my passport in the bin, waltzed through the metal detector barefoot, arms swinging, and made it scot-free.
My stuff on the other hand...Not so much.
Here, and I thought I should be worried about my epically awesome "police line do not cross" bag with all of its junk shoved in...But apparently it was my camera bag that was offensive.
A man took the tray, and left me standing coatless and barefoot. That wouldn't have been a problem, except this is Portland we're talking about and I was wearing a spaghetti strap dress.
I felt like a waif.
They ran it through three times, then submitted my poor camera through a "random search."
As I retrieved and put on my coat and shoes, the man explained that they actually had a running bet that it was a tripod that was making everything all wonky.
Well whatdyaknow. I've got a mini metal tripod! Unfortunately, it was hidden real good and time was ticking to catch my flight.
Aargh!
Happily, he ran the tripod through all by itself, then came back smiling.
"Here you go!"
Then he left me standing with the innards of my camera case strewn all over the search table.
Thanks bud, thanks a lot.
So I jammed everything together, slung it over my shoulders, and took off at a fast clip. Not an easy thing to do while on the phone.
The guy who redirected me: He LIED. He said that it'd be easy to get to gate A from the other checkpoint....But even though the two checkpoints were super close to each other, gates D and A were NOT.
I ended up running all the way across the Airport whilst reassuring my gramma on the phone that yes, I was at the airport and no I can't hurry any faster! There are some pretty abandoned sections of that place, lemme tell ya. I get there, just as my plane is boarding, and find out why it was so bloody far away.
That plane was tiny.
I think it was smaller, eve, than the shuttle I took to Jackson Hole Wyoming when I was 14
Although, that airport was a log cabin. Literally. And there was barely any room for the ticket counter and baggage claim. The whole place was crammed.
So I went up the five steps into the tiny plane that gave me an instant feeling of claustrophobia and proceeded to bang my head several times.
Take off was awesome. We taxied for only a tiny while, then we were off! My seat was cool, a window seat. I got to see the propeller start up. I've sat in wing seats before, but in a small plane, it's an experience. When we took off, we shot straight up like a cork bobbing to the surface.
Did you ever do that science experiment where you create a cloud in a bottle? It's wispy, and hard to see through. It's different than cotton candy, but you know that if you put your hand in it it will be tangible. It will flit about your hand and spark nerve endings.
When we hit the first puff of clouds, it was magical. We went through them fast, in and out like a fish. It was dizzying.
The little low ones were fun, then we hit cloud cover. When we rose through it and skimmed over it, it was amazing. Little planes skip over the top. I saw a rainbow in the clouds! It was just a short segment, but I was it from above. It was super neat.
There seems to be a weird prism affect way up in the sky. Which makes sense since clouds are made of water. Water reflects light, right?
The plane left a shadow on the clouds which was super cool because it looked so tiny. It had a circular glow of rainbow around it.
It's totally unexplainable.
The flight to Vancouver B.C. was the shortest flight I've ever been on. Only 59 minutes! That's crazy.
When we hit the tarmac, it was all wet from the rain. The propeller spraying the water on the pavement was the cool too. It rippled and sprayed weird, the pressure from the plane affecting it in funny ways.
We got the leave the place all willy nilly like a train. From more than one door. We all piled out, then stood there like idiots. On short jumps, bags you don't need (because the plane doesn't have any carry-on space, pretty much) get stowed underneath. They called it carry-out.
I was one of the few that didn't have a bag stowed. So I just left.
They're really determined to keep us foreigners separate until customs. It was like a rat race: long winding empty tunnels that led nowhere. I could see the airport and other people through the glass walls, which made me feel insanely segregated. This hall funneled me up, over, and around the main floor. Two people met me, and sent me farther.
"Oh, you'll find it."
I think I'd prefer a mirror maze at the fun house over this maze of glass. Everyone was looking in on me, but I was still all alone.
Super weird.
I got sent down halls, up escalators, across sky bridges, on floor overlooking the main part of the airport...
I was nerve-making and uncomfortable.
So I get kind of...herded into a glass walled room of sorts. I had to go through several jigsaw halls to get the the desk I was sposed to go to: even though i could see it perfectly clearly from ages away.
Around the last corner I had to cross a bridge. Literally. Like, a wooden hump bridge you'd find in a garden over a stream. It even had potted plants, and chances were, they were real.
This is a ridiculous item to have, because after the bridge without a stream, all there was was a HUGE room with one table, and a booth in the far corner.
And a ribbon to keep you from getting "lost." Incidentally, to also make you took the longest route to that booth.
If the Canadian government was aiming to get me dazed and confused, they succeeded. In fact, I was so overwhelmed the customs form made absolutely no sense to me. So I closed my eyes, scribbled some stuff down (pretty much verifying that I wasn't bringing any alcohol, cigarettes, or food into the country.)
Heck. I wasn't even staying in Canada! What is wrong with this world?!
I suppose that Canada didn't want to get in trouble for harboring (for two whole hours!) a minor who was trafficking alcohol...
Pft. Yeah right. Me? I don't even get invited to alcoholic parties!
After that fiasco, I was home free.
B.C.'s airport was...eye opening.
PDX is a respectable size. And it's always packed. But B.C. was huge! End EVERYTHING is written at least three times. Once in English, French, and Japanese/Korean/Chinese (take your pick. They sure did. They weren't too consistent, really...)
When Miki announced, all excited, that she and Yuki were going to Canada for Christmas, I was skeptical. I mean, how in the world is that romantic? Well, the airport was too big to be crowded, but MAN were there a bunch of Japanese! 8 out of every 10 people I saw were chattering in Japanese. (And giving me the stink eye).
Well, I guess that Miki's belief that Canada is awesome is a pretty popular one in Japan.
I counted. I think I saw 4 school groups. Japanese school groups. One of them was made up of like, 10 8 year olds. And they all started singing.
Woohoo!
Apparently, I can't count.
My ticket said the flight was JL017, so I wandered about for several minutes before I realized that the gate numbers only went from 40-70.
For a moment, I was consumed by panic.
Was I at the wrong airport?!
Sometimes I wonder if I've only got quarters rolling around in my head. At least then I'd have money.
So after I opened my eyes (and squinted past the French) I realized that on the same board that told me what ti,e my flight boarded, it told me what gate my flight was at!
Dur!
That short little flight? Didn't even give out nuts. They gave out a "sunrise" packet that had a grand total of 3 pieces of cereal, 4 small banana chips, a nut.....and that was it.
Srsly.
So when a cute Japanese girl waltzed by with a personal pizza, I about attacked her.
So I followed the hordes of Japanese girls, got my pass, and made a beeline for Pizza Hut. I had 5 minutes to eat that pizza. And I was starving. I wolfed that thing . I think one dude snapped a picture of me with his phone. I was snarling and everything. I was ferocious, and they were all staring at me like I was a freak show....
And you know what?
I was too hungry to even care.
I think I was the only white girl in the entire waiting area. That was one excuse for ppl to stare. Another was that I was alone.
*gasps*
Cute Asian girls travel alone, Miki did it tons! So why is it such a travesty when a white girl does?
I had been so proud of my outfit, too. Rather pretty/conservative, I thought. And then (with the help of a few pointed stares I realized that a sun-dress that shows cleavage isn't considered conservative in most countries.
Ah gosh darn it. I like the dress because it's pretty. I think it's the most revealing item I have in my wardrobe, in regards to my boobs (which isn't saying much). And also, because of the style, there's no way to wear something underneath.
So, I ended up zipping up my jacket and feeling ashamed of myself. which is ridiculous. It doesn't show THAT much! So I looked pretty, but was too ashamed to be confident.
It didn't help that all of those tiny Asian girls had amazing style...
Grr.....
They all wear bright colors and crazy patterns. Also, why in the world are there so many in B.C.?
Srsly. Wtf?
I'm easily entertained, I swear. My section boarded first so I excitedly jumped up and hurried over...to block the tunnel to the plane and take pictures.
It was a double decker!
I've been on one plane that had three rows, but never one so big. It had different doors to enter depending on your section, and everything.
Which, after I sat down, kinda freaked me out because I watched Flight Plan recently. Makes me glad I wasn't traveling with anyone. That movie's a nightmare inducer for sure.
First thing I noticed was that, obviously, the "flight attendant” memo had not reached Japan.
All were friendly, pretty, and wearing knee length skirts, white blouses, blazer type vests, heels, and these really neat neckties (around their neck, not their shirt collar) that were tied to the side and kinda....frothed over their vest.
They looked like silk and had lots of patterns on them.
Every single seat had a t.v.! Like, your own personal one where you could watch movies (there were like 10 to choose from, listen to music, or play games. I slept first, actually, and did all those neato things later. I had an aisle seat and two very proper young men sat next to me who refused to talk to me at all.
Lovely.
I looked around the plane. I spotted 5 white people, all men, and two non-Asian women, but they spoke some other language and weren't white. Being the minority makes me wish I were some other race.
(p.s. I got to talk to a little old lady after the plane landed, who was blond. Was a teacher that lived in Japan for 40 years! She was nice :))
When you're American, you're ignorant, without tradition, and directionless.
I don't like it.
We got our first meal 2 hours into the flight. Suffice to say, I was surprised.
Food?
Of course, I could still taste pizza in my mouth, so I wasn't all that hungry. Isn't that how it always goes? They showed me (and my silent compatriots) a "menu" with two pictures on it that meant nothing to me.
"Chicken?" the stewardess chirps. "Or feeeesh?"
Chicken, definitely chicken.
My neighbors all dug in, but I didn't think I was quite prepared for the culture shock, actually. It was chicken in this weird brown sauce, and rice that had freeze dried peas (yuck, I avoided those), carrots, and scrambled eggs. There was a side dish of green noodles, they were okay. If slimy and vinegary. And cold.
I avoided the unidentifiable substance (vegetable?) on top of the green noodles.
The other dish I thought was potato salad: until I realized that it was made with something like creole mayo.
Spicy.
Slimy.
Cold.
And I don't think the potatoes were potatoes. I gave up on that one. I'm proud to say, though, that I used my chopsticks just fine! Although, it was probably in my favor that they were super short....
Have you ever seen chicken cooked to look like beef?
Lemme tell ya: it looks and tastes odd. But good. Very very good.
Think...curry chicken :)
A few of the traditional types on the plane took off their shoes and put on slippers. Which was interesting. The majority took their shoes off, but I was in an aisle seat and didn't wanna chance my poor toes.
I got ran over by carts often enough as it was. Oh! The dinner plate had a warmer under it. Queer, huh? It was really hot at first.
INTERJECTION!
My stereotypes have been entirely swept to the ground where they've proceeded to shatter, just now. I just saw a transvestite flight attendant waltz by. A Japanese transvestite. With pretty rainbow eye make-up (unless he was a transsexual?). He had an ascot thingy too, and man was he tall!
Well, not taller than I...but for an Asian, definitely. Kinda...older, though.
End Interjection
Lunch was unidentifiable.
It was a sandwich, with an odd filling. There were carrots. And fish, I think. It tasted suspiciously like a veggie bun from Uwajimayas, 'cept those don't have fish.
And now I've completely caught up with my day! (Took half my 10 hour flight...
I just finished my customs form, which was easy. Although I had to declare Miki's textbooks because 1. they were "asked to be brought to this country" and 2. they were so bloody expensive! Hafta declare anything that costs more than 10000￥ (roughly $100).
The immigrations form was fun. Fudged up my name. In pen. And somehow...the number MIki gave for her parents house is in a XXXX-XX-XXXX format so it didn't quite fit....I hope it's not wrong.
That would be my luck.
Oh, did I mention?
My birthday (Aug 11th) gift this year is visiting Mikiko in Japan!
And we're touching down very soon...
To Be Continued in Day One Part Two
Regards from Purgatory,
Monica
EGADS!
To get into the parking garage, you pull up to a metal sentry with a huge green button that somehow reminds me of jabbing a clown's nose.
Ahooogaa!
It should honk, really, it should. So out pops a ticket, like a tongue, and you hafta snatch it quick! Otherwise the jerk behind you will start honking his horn.
NOT like a clown's nose.
Also, there's the red and striped bar in front of you, that supposedly stops you from going anywhere.
Hullooooo!
2 ton car totally trumps flimsy bar that will snap like a twig when I drive through it.
According to the movies, though, this causes all sorts of bells and whistles. I suspect these are just because the special effects crew is bored. It is very likely.
The next it is old hat+ park the car, ride the elevator, almost get trapped in the revolving door, approach the ticket counter.
I don't think we could've entered the building farther away from Alaska Airlines if we tried.
The electronic kiosk was a bust. And yes, I mean the colloquialism that means "dead end" or "bad choice". Even though it says Monica (middle name Millner on my passport, the electronic signature only read the Monica Millner bits. My plane ticket is for Monica (middle name Millner, so the kiosk thought my passport was for the wrong person. I told it to ignore that, and we moved on.
Then it asked me how many bags I was checking. Apparently this was a trick question, because next to my name it said checked bags allowed for this ticket (0).
When I pressed two, and hit enter, I fully expected the glitchy thing to light up and start wailing like a bumped arcade machine.
ERROR! ERROR!
Then it went black, flickered, welcomed me to Alaska Airlines and do I need a ticket? Touch the screen to start
Stupid kiosk.
So I got in line for the counter.
Lemme tell ya, flying to a different country makes this part interesting. They quiz you about all sorts of things. Like....have you smoked, practiced safe sex or done drugs?
Just kidding :)
It's more like they type in whatever country you're flying to, and double-check that you fulfill all of their requirements. If the country requires vaccinations, or a visa, you better have proof!
Luckily Japan loves visitors. Visit all you like!
*menacing voice* But don't you dare try and stay here, you white person!
Unless you stay more than 90 days, a visa isn't needed. So all I need is my handy dandy passport :)
In its pink kitty case.
Next was the check point. The lines for A-C were looooong. So long, everyone bunched up altogether and security had to keep straightening people out into separate lines. One suck misinformed security personnel informed me I could go through express since I was "going through Seattle".
The pug-faced guard at the rope convinced me otherwise.
Great. My ride had left because John and Melanie thought that I was all-clear, and I was back to the end of the supermondo long line Luckily, I was informed. I cut through the big bunched up line, and got in a shorter one hidden behind it.
It still wasn't moving that fast.
By now, I was panicking. It was 9:40, my plane "started boarding" at 9:25, and left at 10:05. I was never going to make it!
Then the line shuffler came back and started informing newcomers "Go to the check point for D&E. It's going much faster.
Man, I was off. I wanted that! That check point was just around the corner, so I ran too it and boy was it going fast. So fast, I couldn't read the carry-on rules sign. I had to lean over ribbons, snag a zip-loc baggy and sneak-a-peak while moving. I didn't have much stuff for the little thing. Stuffed in some ben-gay and another cream, fumbled out my passport and boarding pass, and next thing I knew a new station was being opened.
"I can take someone over here!"
I was first there. Booya.
I love ticket checkers. They get such an intense look on their face while reading your information. And no one EVER addresses a single woman, because they are afraid they will get my title wrong.
Well, shucks. It says 'miss' right on my passport!
All the men get "Have a good flight, Mr. Johnson."
And I get "Uh, here. Have a good day."
Thanks.
Well, this guy didn't say much. Just wielded his orange highlighter like an out of control light saber all over my pass.
Shing! Shing!
They've gotten much better at this x-ray thing. Empty your pockets, take out your laptop, liquids 3oz or less only in a zip-loc, shoes and jacket off, carry-on off and dump it all in tubs.
Put my passport in the bin, waltzed through the metal detector barefoot, arms swinging, and made it scot-free.
My stuff on the other hand...Not so much.
Here, and I thought I should be worried about my epically awesome "police line do not cross" bag with all of its junk shoved in...But apparently it was my camera bag that was offensive.
A man took the tray, and left me standing coatless and barefoot. That wouldn't have been a problem, except this is Portland we're talking about and I was wearing a spaghetti strap dress.
I felt like a waif.
They ran it through three times, then submitted my poor camera through a "random search."
As I retrieved and put on my coat and shoes, the man explained that they actually had a running bet that it was a tripod that was making everything all wonky.
Well whatdyaknow. I've got a mini metal tripod! Unfortunately, it was hidden real good and time was ticking to catch my flight.
Aargh!
Happily, he ran the tripod through all by itself, then came back smiling.
"Here you go!"
Then he left me standing with the innards of my camera case strewn all over the search table.
Thanks bud, thanks a lot.
So I jammed everything together, slung it over my shoulders, and took off at a fast clip. Not an easy thing to do while on the phone.
The guy who redirected me: He LIED. He said that it'd be easy to get to gate A from the other checkpoint....But even though the two checkpoints were super close to each other, gates D and A were NOT.
I ended up running all the way across the Airport whilst reassuring my gramma on the phone that yes, I was at the airport and no I can't hurry any faster! There are some pretty abandoned sections of that place, lemme tell ya. I get there, just as my plane is boarding, and find out why it was so bloody far away.
That plane was tiny.
I think it was smaller, eve, than the shuttle I took to Jackson Hole Wyoming when I was 14
Although, that airport was a log cabin. Literally. And there was barely any room for the ticket counter and baggage claim. The whole place was crammed.
So I went up the five steps into the tiny plane that gave me an instant feeling of claustrophobia and proceeded to bang my head several times.
Take off was awesome. We taxied for only a tiny while, then we were off! My seat was cool, a window seat. I got to see the propeller start up. I've sat in wing seats before, but in a small plane, it's an experience. When we took off, we shot straight up like a cork bobbing to the surface.
Did you ever do that science experiment where you create a cloud in a bottle? It's wispy, and hard to see through. It's different than cotton candy, but you know that if you put your hand in it it will be tangible. It will flit about your hand and spark nerve endings.
When we hit the first puff of clouds, it was magical. We went through them fast, in and out like a fish. It was dizzying.
The little low ones were fun, then we hit cloud cover. When we rose through it and skimmed over it, it was amazing. Little planes skip over the top. I saw a rainbow in the clouds! It was just a short segment, but I was it from above. It was super neat.
There seems to be a weird prism affect way up in the sky. Which makes sense since clouds are made of water. Water reflects light, right?
The plane left a shadow on the clouds which was super cool because it looked so tiny. It had a circular glow of rainbow around it.
It's totally unexplainable.
The flight to Vancouver B.C. was the shortest flight I've ever been on. Only 59 minutes! That's crazy.
When we hit the tarmac, it was all wet from the rain. The propeller spraying the water on the pavement was the cool too. It rippled and sprayed weird, the pressure from the plane affecting it in funny ways.
We got the leave the place all willy nilly like a train. From more than one door. We all piled out, then stood there like idiots. On short jumps, bags you don't need (because the plane doesn't have any carry-on space, pretty much) get stowed underneath. They called it carry-out.
I was one of the few that didn't have a bag stowed. So I just left.
They're really determined to keep us foreigners separate until customs. It was like a rat race: long winding empty tunnels that led nowhere. I could see the airport and other people through the glass walls, which made me feel insanely segregated. This hall funneled me up, over, and around the main floor. Two people met me, and sent me farther.
"Oh, you'll find it."
I think I'd prefer a mirror maze at the fun house over this maze of glass. Everyone was looking in on me, but I was still all alone.
Super weird.
I got sent down halls, up escalators, across sky bridges, on floor overlooking the main part of the airport...
I was nerve-making and uncomfortable.
So I get kind of...herded into a glass walled room of sorts. I had to go through several jigsaw halls to get the the desk I was sposed to go to: even though i could see it perfectly clearly from ages away.
Around the last corner I had to cross a bridge. Literally. Like, a wooden hump bridge you'd find in a garden over a stream. It even had potted plants, and chances were, they were real.
This is a ridiculous item to have, because after the bridge without a stream, all there was was a HUGE room with one table, and a booth in the far corner.
And a ribbon to keep you from getting "lost." Incidentally, to also make you took the longest route to that booth.
If the Canadian government was aiming to get me dazed and confused, they succeeded. In fact, I was so overwhelmed the customs form made absolutely no sense to me. So I closed my eyes, scribbled some stuff down (pretty much verifying that I wasn't bringing any alcohol, cigarettes, or food into the country.)
Heck. I wasn't even staying in Canada! What is wrong with this world?!
I suppose that Canada didn't want to get in trouble for harboring (for two whole hours!) a minor who was trafficking alcohol...
Pft. Yeah right. Me? I don't even get invited to alcoholic parties!
After that fiasco, I was home free.
B.C.'s airport was...eye opening.
PDX is a respectable size. And it's always packed. But B.C. was huge! End EVERYTHING is written at least three times. Once in English, French, and Japanese/Korean/Chinese (take your pick. They sure did. They weren't too consistent, really...)
When Miki announced, all excited, that she and Yuki were going to Canada for Christmas, I was skeptical. I mean, how in the world is that romantic? Well, the airport was too big to be crowded, but MAN were there a bunch of Japanese! 8 out of every 10 people I saw were chattering in Japanese. (And giving me the stink eye).
Well, I guess that Miki's belief that Canada is awesome is a pretty popular one in Japan.
I counted. I think I saw 4 school groups. Japanese school groups. One of them was made up of like, 10 8 year olds. And they all started singing.
Woohoo!
Apparently, I can't count.
My ticket said the flight was JL017, so I wandered about for several minutes before I realized that the gate numbers only went from 40-70.
For a moment, I was consumed by panic.
Was I at the wrong airport?!
Sometimes I wonder if I've only got quarters rolling around in my head. At least then I'd have money.
So after I opened my eyes (and squinted past the French) I realized that on the same board that told me what ti,e my flight boarded, it told me what gate my flight was at!
Dur!
That short little flight? Didn't even give out nuts. They gave out a "sunrise" packet that had a grand total of 3 pieces of cereal, 4 small banana chips, a nut.....and that was it.
Srsly.
So when a cute Japanese girl waltzed by with a personal pizza, I about attacked her.
So I followed the hordes of Japanese girls, got my pass, and made a beeline for Pizza Hut. I had 5 minutes to eat that pizza. And I was starving. I wolfed that thing . I think one dude snapped a picture of me with his phone. I was snarling and everything. I was ferocious, and they were all staring at me like I was a freak show....
And you know what?
I was too hungry to even care.
I think I was the only white girl in the entire waiting area. That was one excuse for ppl to stare. Another was that I was alone.
*gasps*
Cute Asian girls travel alone, Miki did it tons! So why is it such a travesty when a white girl does?
I had been so proud of my outfit, too. Rather pretty/conservative, I thought. And then (with the help of a few pointed stares I realized that a sun-dress that shows cleavage isn't considered conservative in most countries.
Ah gosh darn it. I like the dress because it's pretty. I think it's the most revealing item I have in my wardrobe, in regards to my boobs (which isn't saying much). And also, because of the style, there's no way to wear something underneath.
So, I ended up zipping up my jacket and feeling ashamed of myself. which is ridiculous. It doesn't show THAT much! So I looked pretty, but was too ashamed to be confident.
It didn't help that all of those tiny Asian girls had amazing style...
Grr.....
They all wear bright colors and crazy patterns. Also, why in the world are there so many in B.C.?
Srsly. Wtf?
I'm easily entertained, I swear. My section boarded first so I excitedly jumped up and hurried over...to block the tunnel to the plane and take pictures.
It was a double decker!
I've been on one plane that had three rows, but never one so big. It had different doors to enter depending on your section, and everything.
Which, after I sat down, kinda freaked me out because I watched Flight Plan recently. Makes me glad I wasn't traveling with anyone. That movie's a nightmare inducer for sure.
First thing I noticed was that, obviously, the "flight attendant” memo had not reached Japan.
All were friendly, pretty, and wearing knee length skirts, white blouses, blazer type vests, heels, and these really neat neckties (around their neck, not their shirt collar) that were tied to the side and kinda....frothed over their vest.
They looked like silk and had lots of patterns on them.
Every single seat had a t.v.! Like, your own personal one where you could watch movies (there were like 10 to choose from, listen to music, or play games. I slept first, actually, and did all those neato things later. I had an aisle seat and two very proper young men sat next to me who refused to talk to me at all.
Lovely.
I looked around the plane. I spotted 5 white people, all men, and two non-Asian women, but they spoke some other language and weren't white. Being the minority makes me wish I were some other race.
(p.s. I got to talk to a little old lady after the plane landed, who was blond. Was a teacher that lived in Japan for 40 years! She was nice :))
When you're American, you're ignorant, without tradition, and directionless.
I don't like it.
We got our first meal 2 hours into the flight. Suffice to say, I was surprised.
Food?
Of course, I could still taste pizza in my mouth, so I wasn't all that hungry. Isn't that how it always goes? They showed me (and my silent compatriots) a "menu" with two pictures on it that meant nothing to me.
"Chicken?" the stewardess chirps. "Or feeeesh?"
Chicken, definitely chicken.
My neighbors all dug in, but I didn't think I was quite prepared for the culture shock, actually. It was chicken in this weird brown sauce, and rice that had freeze dried peas (yuck, I avoided those), carrots, and scrambled eggs. There was a side dish of green noodles, they were okay. If slimy and vinegary. And cold.
I avoided the unidentifiable substance (vegetable?) on top of the green noodles.
The other dish I thought was potato salad: until I realized that it was made with something like creole mayo.
Spicy.
Slimy.
Cold.
And I don't think the potatoes were potatoes. I gave up on that one. I'm proud to say, though, that I used my chopsticks just fine! Although, it was probably in my favor that they were super short....
Have you ever seen chicken cooked to look like beef?
Lemme tell ya: it looks and tastes odd. But good. Very very good.
Think...curry chicken :)
A few of the traditional types on the plane took off their shoes and put on slippers. Which was interesting. The majority took their shoes off, but I was in an aisle seat and didn't wanna chance my poor toes.
I got ran over by carts often enough as it was. Oh! The dinner plate had a warmer under it. Queer, huh? It was really hot at first.
INTERJECTION!
My stereotypes have been entirely swept to the ground where they've proceeded to shatter, just now. I just saw a transvestite flight attendant waltz by. A Japanese transvestite. With pretty rainbow eye make-up (unless he was a transsexual?). He had an ascot thingy too, and man was he tall!
Well, not taller than I...but for an Asian, definitely. Kinda...older, though.
End Interjection
Lunch was unidentifiable.
It was a sandwich, with an odd filling. There were carrots. And fish, I think. It tasted suspiciously like a veggie bun from Uwajimayas, 'cept those don't have fish.
And now I've completely caught up with my day! (Took half my 10 hour flight...
I just finished my customs form, which was easy. Although I had to declare Miki's textbooks because 1. they were "asked to be brought to this country" and 2. they were so bloody expensive! Hafta declare anything that costs more than 10000￥ (roughly $100).
The immigrations form was fun. Fudged up my name. In pen. And somehow...the number MIki gave for her parents house is in a XXXX-XX-XXXX format so it didn't quite fit....I hope it's not wrong.
That would be my luck.
Oh, did I mention?
My birthday (Aug 11th) gift this year is visiting Mikiko in Japan!
And we're touching down very soon...
To Be Continued in Day One Part Two
Regards from Purgatory,
Monica
Monday, August 2, 2010
Murphy Strikes Again
City Hall has been running us through the ringer.
I first suspected that something was wrong when the 5th of the month passed and I still hadn't received my electric bill.
Now, for those of you that don't receive these mysterious things, they usually arrive between the 1st and the 5th and you are expected to pay them by the 15th, just like clockwork, every single month.
So after a few days of truancy, I swung by City Hall. There were many things wrong with this idea, though.
1. I was walking with my new roommate and her best friend, and we were eating ice cream. Short attention span much?
2. City Hall was jammed full of people. Normally I'd shoulder my way in and "patiently" wait my turn, but you don't really understand: Monmouth's City Hall has about 3X7 feet of standing room, and two "friendly" secretaries (isn't it funny how they aren't that friendly at all?) and there was a growling dog, 3 wailing children, two ladies in pajama's, and my postman was attempting to force his way through the door.
I don't think so.
3. I decided to ask my postman if he knew what had happened to my mail, or if they were running late because he appeared to be carrying 100 letters in his hot little fist.
I love my mailman dearly, I think his name is Ben. Cute accent, blue eyes, very friendly...Sadly, he is blond and there is absolutely nothing going on up there. I thought it was uncanny how it was so easy to make small talk with him! Turns out, he's just desperate to talk about things he can follow. You try something complicated like "Do you have a hobby?" And you've lost him for the count.
Needless to say, asking him about my mail didn't go very well.
"Hey Ben, how are you?"
"uh...Um...Oh! Hi!"
"Are the electricity bills running late?" *points at letters* (Oddly enough, he clutches them to his chest like a child trying to protect his stuffed animal.)
"Uh...What?"
"The electricity bills? Mine's running late. Have you already delivered them?"
"Oh, uh...Um...I think these are shut-off notices." *shifts awkwardly* "Uhm..."
*sighs* "Have you delivered the electricity bills already, then?"
*blinks dazedly* "Maybe, uh....you can ask inside?"
We both peer at the ruckus and rear back a little.
"Uhm...I'll see you later, Ben."
And I kept walking.
So a few days later, I jumped the other mailperson, a woman. The first time I met her, she was quite unfriendly I tell you. But now? She's my beeeesssteeessst frieeeeend!
She helps out when things go wrong. Like when two weeks after Mikiko left I was still getting her mail even though technically it was supposed to be being forwarded. We had our doubts, but when Miki filled out the card we specifically asked the Post Master if it would be forwarded even to Japan, and he assured us YES. Definitely YES.
Well, the hospital bill I delivered to the nice lady (whilst I was in my pajamas) delivering mail across the street testifies otherwise. She said she'd take care of it, so I figured she'd be the next person to talk to about my bill.
She was on the corner several blocks from my place, and to her credit, she still recognized me.
Well, Ben can spot me from four blocks away and wave (while shouting) at any point in his route, but not everyone can add up to that, I should think.
So I asked "So if theoreticially my electricity bill had two names on it, and one of the people named on there had moved and were having their mail forwarded...If their name came on the envelope first, would it have been forwarded as well?"
She said yes, so when by the 13th I had no bill, I attacked City Hall.
"I need my electricity bill."
Type type type type. "Yes?"
"I need my bill, it never made it to me."
Type type type type. "Address please."
I gave it to her.
"We mailed it."
Continues typing.
"Uhm. I still need it. It never made it."
"I sent it myself. It made it. You must have done something to it." Pauses. "Why are you bothering me if you did something to your bill?"
I made a heroic effort at not rolling my eyes. "It must've gotten forwarded. My roommate moved out and her name came first. I definitely don't have it."
This stops her entirely, and I got the death glare of doom.
"Bills go straight to your house. Not the person. You must have lost it." She shoves her chair back. "I would've gotten it back if it was ruined or you dropped it in the box by accident." Then she proceeds to tear through her filing drawer, in a temper.
So suddenly this is my fault?
"Wait." Death glare of doom is on my face again. "You're roommate moved out. Her name should be no longer on there. So it's your fault."
I stare. "Well...That's another thing I need to take care of."
"She....he.....This Mickey person will have to come in and take care of this themselves. Good day."
She started typing again.
Oh for the love of....
"Ma'am." I lean across the counter. "When we made this account, we asked if I could take her name off without her being here, and the desk lady informed me I could." I pause. "I will have to assume this person was you. Did I hear incorrectly?"
"She has to do it herself. Can you ask her to come in and do this? It needs to be done right away."
"She's in Japan."
Holy cow she has stopped typing again. It must be Armageddon or something.
"Can you ask her to come in?"
It's official. I have met someone more dense than my postman. Sorry Ben.
"Look. She is in Japan. She is not coming back. If there is paperwork she has to sign. I can mail it. Heck, I can give you the ADDRESS to mail it to her. But she's not coming here."
She blinks. "We can mail it?"
"YES!"
"She needs to give us a call, then." type type type. "Then we'll mail it to her. Have a nice day."
I'm about ready to strangle her at this point, but I knew this was as good as I was going to get. "Could I at least have my electricity bill?"
She opens her mouth, shuts it, and good Lord she's stopped typing again. "Yes."
She prints it. And I leave.
Pulling teeth, I tell you.
Made me wish I had had my checkbook with me at the time.
Well, I told Miki, and she tried calling them for three days straight. Poor Miki. I'm not certain exactly what was going wrong. But she had no luck calling them. Her email back to me was quite distressed.
Now I feel guilty >.<
The good news is, I received my electricity bill on Saturday!
The weird news is, that was the 31st. Paranoid much? Miki's name is still first, though. I'm sure my roommate will love that when she finally actually moves in. She hasn't, yet. Not until Mid-August I'm thinking. Maybe late August.
With my luck she'll turn up after I've been gone for several days and the cats will ahve done something unforgivable.
Thank you cats. I love you dearly.
The same day as the electricity bill, I got a notice from my loans. I had gotten one early in the summer, right after school got out, but I had ignored it. After all, I'm still in school, yeah?
Well, apparently not: This was a notice of late payment, and $45 in interest.
What The Heck?
The nice thing about school loans is that they don't charge you interest or require you to pay anything until you are out of school. But when I last checked, going into Senior Year and already being signed up for Fall Term does not qualify as being "done with school".
So why is my loan coming up already?
I hate bureaucracy.
Regards from Purgatory,
Monica
p.s. Have I mentioned that i'm running late on my Financial Aid again? Don't even get me started on my taxes. Let alone my mother's. Love you Mom.
I first suspected that something was wrong when the 5th of the month passed and I still hadn't received my electric bill.
Now, for those of you that don't receive these mysterious things, they usually arrive between the 1st and the 5th and you are expected to pay them by the 15th, just like clockwork, every single month.
So after a few days of truancy, I swung by City Hall. There were many things wrong with this idea, though.
1. I was walking with my new roommate and her best friend, and we were eating ice cream. Short attention span much?
2. City Hall was jammed full of people. Normally I'd shoulder my way in and "patiently" wait my turn, but you don't really understand: Monmouth's City Hall has about 3X7 feet of standing room, and two "friendly" secretaries (isn't it funny how they aren't that friendly at all?) and there was a growling dog, 3 wailing children, two ladies in pajama's, and my postman was attempting to force his way through the door.
I don't think so.
3. I decided to ask my postman if he knew what had happened to my mail, or if they were running late because he appeared to be carrying 100 letters in his hot little fist.
I love my mailman dearly, I think his name is Ben. Cute accent, blue eyes, very friendly...Sadly, he is blond and there is absolutely nothing going on up there. I thought it was uncanny how it was so easy to make small talk with him! Turns out, he's just desperate to talk about things he can follow. You try something complicated like "Do you have a hobby?" And you've lost him for the count.
Needless to say, asking him about my mail didn't go very well.
"Hey Ben, how are you?"
"uh...Um...Oh! Hi!"
"Are the electricity bills running late?" *points at letters* (Oddly enough, he clutches them to his chest like a child trying to protect his stuffed animal.)
"Uh...What?"
"The electricity bills? Mine's running late. Have you already delivered them?"
"Oh, uh...Um...I think these are shut-off notices." *shifts awkwardly* "Uhm..."
*sighs* "Have you delivered the electricity bills already, then?"
*blinks dazedly* "Maybe, uh....you can ask inside?"
We both peer at the ruckus and rear back a little.
"Uhm...I'll see you later, Ben."
And I kept walking.
So a few days later, I jumped the other mailperson, a woman. The first time I met her, she was quite unfriendly I tell you. But now? She's my beeeesssteeessst frieeeeend!
She helps out when things go wrong. Like when two weeks after Mikiko left I was still getting her mail even though technically it was supposed to be being forwarded. We had our doubts, but when Miki filled out the card we specifically asked the Post Master if it would be forwarded even to Japan, and he assured us YES. Definitely YES.
Well, the hospital bill I delivered to the nice lady (whilst I was in my pajamas) delivering mail across the street testifies otherwise. She said she'd take care of it, so I figured she'd be the next person to talk to about my bill.
She was on the corner several blocks from my place, and to her credit, she still recognized me.
Well, Ben can spot me from four blocks away and wave (while shouting) at any point in his route, but not everyone can add up to that, I should think.
So I asked "So if theoreticially my electricity bill had two names on it, and one of the people named on there had moved and were having their mail forwarded...If their name came on the envelope first, would it have been forwarded as well?"
She said yes, so when by the 13th I had no bill, I attacked City Hall.
"I need my electricity bill."
Type type type type. "Yes?"
"I need my bill, it never made it to me."
Type type type type. "Address please."
I gave it to her.
"We mailed it."
Continues typing.
"Uhm. I still need it. It never made it."
"I sent it myself. It made it. You must have done something to it." Pauses. "Why are you bothering me if you did something to your bill?"
I made a heroic effort at not rolling my eyes. "It must've gotten forwarded. My roommate moved out and her name came first. I definitely don't have it."
This stops her entirely, and I got the death glare of doom.
"Bills go straight to your house. Not the person. You must have lost it." She shoves her chair back. "I would've gotten it back if it was ruined or you dropped it in the box by accident." Then she proceeds to tear through her filing drawer, in a temper.
So suddenly this is my fault?
"Wait." Death glare of doom is on my face again. "You're roommate moved out. Her name should be no longer on there. So it's your fault."
I stare. "Well...That's another thing I need to take care of."
"She....he.....This Mickey person will have to come in and take care of this themselves. Good day."
She started typing again.
Oh for the love of....
"Ma'am." I lean across the counter. "When we made this account, we asked if I could take her name off without her being here, and the desk lady informed me I could." I pause. "I will have to assume this person was you. Did I hear incorrectly?"
"She has to do it herself. Can you ask her to come in and do this? It needs to be done right away."
"She's in Japan."
Holy cow she has stopped typing again. It must be Armageddon or something.
"Can you ask her to come in?"
It's official. I have met someone more dense than my postman. Sorry Ben.
"Look. She is in Japan. She is not coming back. If there is paperwork she has to sign. I can mail it. Heck, I can give you the ADDRESS to mail it to her. But she's not coming here."
She blinks. "We can mail it?"
"YES!"
"She needs to give us a call, then." type type type. "Then we'll mail it to her. Have a nice day."
I'm about ready to strangle her at this point, but I knew this was as good as I was going to get. "Could I at least have my electricity bill?"
She opens her mouth, shuts it, and good Lord she's stopped typing again. "Yes."
She prints it. And I leave.
Pulling teeth, I tell you.
Made me wish I had had my checkbook with me at the time.
Well, I told Miki, and she tried calling them for three days straight. Poor Miki. I'm not certain exactly what was going wrong. But she had no luck calling them. Her email back to me was quite distressed.
Now I feel guilty >.<
The good news is, I received my electricity bill on Saturday!
The weird news is, that was the 31st. Paranoid much? Miki's name is still first, though. I'm sure my roommate will love that when she finally actually moves in. She hasn't, yet. Not until Mid-August I'm thinking. Maybe late August.
With my luck she'll turn up after I've been gone for several days and the cats will ahve done something unforgivable.
Thank you cats. I love you dearly.
The same day as the electricity bill, I got a notice from my loans. I had gotten one early in the summer, right after school got out, but I had ignored it. After all, I'm still in school, yeah?
Well, apparently not: This was a notice of late payment, and $45 in interest.
What The Heck?
The nice thing about school loans is that they don't charge you interest or require you to pay anything until you are out of school. But when I last checked, going into Senior Year and already being signed up for Fall Term does not qualify as being "done with school".
So why is my loan coming up already?
I hate bureaucracy.
Regards from Purgatory,
Monica
p.s. Have I mentioned that i'm running late on my Financial Aid again? Don't even get me started on my taxes. Let alone my mother's. Love you Mom.
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