I'm a little confused by something here in Tokyo. See, I thought I was coming to work in a show with professional grown-ups.
Instead, I often have this eerie feeling (accompanied by requisite "wooooo woooo" sounds) that time has somehow reversed itself and I'm back in high school. In the locker room. Where boys are awkward and immature and rude and the girls are catty and insecure. And I for one, have never wanted to go back to that place.
Now I'm all for having a good time at work, especially when we're going to be there 9 hours a day, but I do have to say that I'm not comfortable with mean, degrading humor that puts other people down. The kind that takes their dignity and steps on it over and over with a spiky track shoe. I just really don't see the need to be impolite and insulting. There are plenty of ways to make people laugh without hurting someone's feelings. A lesson I learned well from my wonderful dad and the immeasurably wise Reenie.
So. Instead of stooping to a low, nasty, teenage level, I have decided to remove myself from negative, insulting, and occasionally discriminatory humor and bigotry, and in turn, I reminded myself of something I LOVE!
Reading a good book.
I think sometimes, when I don't have a good book and sometimes am not quite sure what to read next, my soul gets a little lost. Cuz my brain loses a healthy outlet of imagination and instead I constantly create strange conversations in my head. Especially in the land of Nippon where 90% of the day I can't communicate with people.
So I picked up a delightfully free copy of "Flesh and Blood" by Michael Cunningham (the guy who wrote "The Hours") from the dozo bookshelf downstairs. I've read quite a bit of his work and enjoy it, and this book is turning out to be one of my favorites so far. He has a phenomenal understanding of the human psyche and writes inner emotional monologue so well. And so now, I have this lovely escape from high school into a fantastic journey of fiction. And I'm thrilled.
Especially because my crazy imagination and willingness to suspend disbelief usually mean that when I read, I immerse myself in a story. I remember sophomore year of college when I was reading the incredible "A Density of Souls" by Christopher Rice, that I had been reading in my top bunk at Flather for about 2 hours one afternoon. And when I got up to go eat dinner, it was sunset, and I remember being cold and shivering and unsettled at the table. It was a good ten minutes later that I realized I had become so involved in the novel, that I personally was behaving as if the same Category 4 hurricane in the novel was right howling outside the old North windows, when in reality it was a beautiful fall evening outside. Not to say that we didn't eventually have Isabella hit DC junior year providing a four-day weekend, but basically it just was windy outside and the rest of our neighborhood lost power.
I don't think anything trumps my utter fear of and complete belief in the Wicked Witch of the West when I was 3 or 4 and Mom took me to see The Wizard of Oz at YGP. (This was obviously before I began my formative years there). I was so frightened by her and believed her to be so real and evil that I wouldn't go within 20 feet of her during the Meet and Greet after the show.
Once, too, when I watched Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom at 10 years old, I didn't even make it 20 minutes into the movie, yet that night I had to sleep with the light on because I thought the teddy bears in the walls were going to jump out of the wallpaper and attack me like the ninjas in the movie.
And I had nightmares for a month in second grade after seeing the original Willy Wonka (because that image section before the boat trip is so creepy and bizarre) that I was gonna blow up into a blueberry. So yeah. There's that utter suspension of disbelief at work.
So I'm reading something other than guidebooks in Japan and it's making me a much smarter, more relaxed, and much happier Tophs.
Oh. And I went to Shibuya today again and basically let some Japanese salesman play dress up with me as the doll. It was crazy the things he was trying to get me to buy, but then I had to use the awful "maybe" tactic so I could get out of there without spending any money. I also went back to Harajuku and salivated over those Puma high-tops I want so badly. I'm thinking they might be my opening night gift to myself. I finally found a pic of them online too. And yes mom, I know you hate them already.
Dress rehearsals for me start tomorrow! Woo hoo!
