9.04.2004
Rock and Roll Lifestyle
Yummy. Sake. Squid. I'm never coming home. I'm sorry.
I saw my new apartment today. Zoom in on Sakaisuji-Hommachi. It's the one pretty much in the middle. The world, it seems, will finally revolve around me (rather than just giving that appearance). Or at least the loop line will. Oh joy! I am not *on* the Loop Line. I don't know why, but I've never liked the Loop Line. I'm a subterranean girl when it comes right down to it. Transfer, transfer. Actually though, let me just expound on my good fortune for a moment...not to mention the story of how I got here.
Well shoot, I got enough fire water, might as well tell the story. Will try to make it short (famous last words...actually...come to think of it, "I'll try to make it short" would be pretty good last words).
So I was to be given two choices of apartments. This, I think, was quite considerate and practical because if I'm happy where I live (and it is a company apartment) I am more likely to continue on. Maybe it's just the rush of moving (oh constant motion, I'm a flea on the earth, I smell blood) but I think I'm gonna be real happy there.
So I was going to look at the two places with someone from the office (i.e. who can speak Japanese) but you know, it didn't work out so I went on my own. What fun! I mean, true I didn't get to ask many questions effectively, but then, I think every question I've really asked when touring real estate has ended up being irrelevant and off-target when it came down to living there. E.g. the Landlord who was ex-soundman for Frank Zappa and David Bowie. But that's another story.
[Sidenote: I am getting severely sucked in by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. And is it just me or does the drummer look a little like Dan?]
So show up early to be Japanese on-time for appointment...seems not open yet so coffee and arrive five minutes late. I can't win for losing. Didn't matter, met the agent. Cute. Ex-Jr. High teacher. Sweetly tried some words in English though she didn't have to. I mean, I didn't speak a word of it...I kind of speak this dumb onomatopoeic non-Japanese language of my own you know and people say "sugoi, josu" but I am not josu.
She shoved some floorplans in front of me and pictures of the outside of the building then for whatever reason took them away before I even looked at them. Ah...all right. But I got the idea. My apartment looks like a building where a kid with limited legos decides to build a skyscraper. Stack stack stack. Okay.
So up she stands, "Shall we go have a look?" (Japanese) and I yes and we go. Gets her car out of the parking elevator machine which reminds me of the Back to the Future ride at Universal Studios (Japan). And she puts me in the back, which feels weird. It's not a taxi, she's nice and gosh I hate all the hierarchical stuff. I'll never get over being a...darn I wish there were a better word than "Yank". And not "Seppo" for c**&#^@.
Constant reeling. I think I lost my bait.
So small talk can be hard even in a language you know till you've learned how to do it, and in another language in a car with a rep who doesn't speak your language and I'm trying not to be tensed all ears what what think think say think say and be normal. People tell me my personality is different in English and Japanese. Yeah, definitely. I have no personality in Japanese except perhaps "overeager".
So the first place, wow. It was like walking into a bad coffee shop for middle-aged women. Bad back-lit stained glass in the entryway. I actually laughed and the agent asked why. "Ah, the colored glass is funny" just doesn't quite express...
The actual apt. was on 2nd floor, but we went to top floor to see. Good points: large convenient bathroom. Not sure why but the sink was big enough to wash a toddler in. I mean, the bathroom was like another "room" which is strange if you know what apartment baths are like here.
And then I noticed the noise. Oto apparently means noise, as acquired by me today. There was a lot of oto even on the top floor so to the balcony. Ah yes, major building just in initial phases of construction. How long? For the next two years, 5 or more days a week all day long. Mind you I start at 12. Ah no.
But dare I say, that was not the worst. I might forgive even jackhammers. I am a very chill mind control kind of gal. No. There was nary a shop, conbini, slightly personable looking establishment in the area *and* oh dear god the wallpaper-- carrying on this matronly theme of bad bad bad taste some sort of chairrail high pseudo-Olive Garden style green stripey disaster with swishy plant life patterns. Help.
I know how this works. Nighttrain and I got worked over the coals when we rented that dark god-forsaken apartment in Terrytown. They guy took us to a couple of nice-looking complexes, went in to the office, no doubt chatted up his staff buds then came out to tell us the place he wanted to show us was already rented. Showed us a total dive and finally took us to the last place which we more than readily signed for because the pressure was *on* and anyway Nighttrain had to get out of his place.
So she showed me the dump then showed me the decent place. Spit-shined.
The decent place...well, I live in the burbs now. I have carpet. I have an equally inefficient set-up(for living, not for building or consuming space). Yeah the washing machine is right by the front door. Yeah the closet space is negligible. Oh this one lacked a shoe closet. I mean, in Japan, no shoe closet! One burner, not two, but gas...so...
No tatami. None here either. I am going to buy some and find someone to make me a nice frame and squish them together. I tell you. Wallpaper dirtier than here. Bathroom sink squidged in between the closet and kitchen, across the hall from the bathroom (actually an improvement practically if not aesthetically from the one here which is in the shower basically).
That's the bad stuff. My main requirements: location, location, location and oh yeah some kind of impersoal quality to make me feel like I'm somewhere cooler than I belong.
Spades!
The entryway is this dark cavern with an immense I mean immense security door. The mailboxes are aesthetically tall and narrow. Then into the dark passage that is the stairwell and elevator shaft. Later noticed there is a 1-foot wide brick rail next to the steps to roll your bike up to the storage area.
The place: wood floor, 1LDK (i.e. two rooms). One long long room separated into two "rooms" by a sliding modernized glass shoji stand-in.
[Vacation - the Go-Go's btw. This song breaks my heart. For reals. I had it on the only mixed tape I had in my car the last two years in Austin. Spent a lot of time belting it out. Oh hell, I just missed singing in my car. Used to power jam. Lotta steering wheel drumming and screaming and...no wonder I like karaoke. I should go by myself. Anyway.]
Anyway, there's a little grocery across the street which is a total rarity in that neck of the skyscraper woods. Actually the whole little block is a find because we had to drive around to park and there are restaurants, pubs, coffee shops, of every strain. Even a number with seats on the street (oh joy, I must always be on the street). Indian curry shop in the basement across the street. Okonomiyaki. Izakaya I think. Some ostensibly "Aussie" pub. I don't believe it but it hardly matters.
15 minutes at most on bike from where I work. 15 minutes on foot I think from the main shopping arcade in Shinsaibashi. 15 minutes from club/night life of south Osaka. 5 min from subway. Oh what do I need? Tatami. I need a carpenter to build me a bin/tray thing for tatami. Shoot,
DREW: Stop cruising Pennsylvania if that's where you are. I need a builder of things. Can you bring a power tool on a plane?
I am nesting. That's weird. Kill me now. I want a couch and a nice digital projector and a screen. I want tatami. I want a small table and lots of zabuton to sit on. I think I need my wireless router but I'm not sure. If it's not in use...I need it. I want a little portable oven and a wall-rack for pans. And I want pans.
That is all I want.
Oh hell, I am going to have to put the books somewhere. I need a bookshelf.
Long story short. The place actually is cute. The long room, wood floors. I can imagine the tatami by the window with a little table on it. A couch and chairs here. Tiny desk there. Nifty photos my friends and I have taken all down the long walls. I am going to be happy there. You know when you are making concessions. I'm not. You know when a place is right. I may stay a long long time...
I saw my new apartment today. Zoom in on Sakaisuji-Hommachi. It's the one pretty much in the middle. The world, it seems, will finally revolve around me (rather than just giving that appearance). Or at least the loop line will. Oh joy! I am not *on* the Loop Line. I don't know why, but I've never liked the Loop Line. I'm a subterranean girl when it comes right down to it. Transfer, transfer. Actually though, let me just expound on my good fortune for a moment...not to mention the story of how I got here.
Well shoot, I got enough fire water, might as well tell the story. Will try to make it short (famous last words...actually...come to think of it, "I'll try to make it short" would be pretty good last words).
So I was to be given two choices of apartments. This, I think, was quite considerate and practical because if I'm happy where I live (and it is a company apartment) I am more likely to continue on. Maybe it's just the rush of moving (oh constant motion, I'm a flea on the earth, I smell blood) but I think I'm gonna be real happy there.
So I was going to look at the two places with someone from the office (i.e. who can speak Japanese) but you know, it didn't work out so I went on my own. What fun! I mean, true I didn't get to ask many questions effectively, but then, I think every question I've really asked when touring real estate has ended up being irrelevant and off-target when it came down to living there. E.g. the Landlord who was ex-soundman for Frank Zappa and David Bowie. But that's another story.
[Sidenote: I am getting severely sucked in by the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. And is it just me or does the drummer look a little like Dan?]
So show up early to be Japanese on-time for appointment...seems not open yet so coffee and arrive five minutes late. I can't win for losing. Didn't matter, met the agent. Cute. Ex-Jr. High teacher. Sweetly tried some words in English though she didn't have to. I mean, I didn't speak a word of it...I kind of speak this dumb onomatopoeic non-Japanese language of my own you know and people say "sugoi, josu" but I am not josu.
She shoved some floorplans in front of me and pictures of the outside of the building then for whatever reason took them away before I even looked at them. Ah...all right. But I got the idea. My apartment looks like a building where a kid with limited legos decides to build a skyscraper. Stack stack stack. Okay.
So up she stands, "Shall we go have a look?" (Japanese) and I yes and we go. Gets her car out of the parking elevator machine which reminds me of the Back to the Future ride at Universal Studios (Japan). And she puts me in the back, which feels weird. It's not a taxi, she's nice and gosh I hate all the hierarchical stuff. I'll never get over being a...darn I wish there were a better word than "Yank". And not "Seppo" for c**&#^@.
Constant reeling. I think I lost my bait.
So small talk can be hard even in a language you know till you've learned how to do it, and in another language in a car with a rep who doesn't speak your language and I'm trying not to be tensed all ears what what think think say think say and be normal. People tell me my personality is different in English and Japanese. Yeah, definitely. I have no personality in Japanese except perhaps "overeager".
So the first place, wow. It was like walking into a bad coffee shop for middle-aged women. Bad back-lit stained glass in the entryway. I actually laughed and the agent asked why. "Ah, the colored glass is funny" just doesn't quite express...
The actual apt. was on 2nd floor, but we went to top floor to see. Good points: large convenient bathroom. Not sure why but the sink was big enough to wash a toddler in. I mean, the bathroom was like another "room" which is strange if you know what apartment baths are like here.
And then I noticed the noise. Oto apparently means noise, as acquired by me today. There was a lot of oto even on the top floor so to the balcony. Ah yes, major building just in initial phases of construction. How long? For the next two years, 5 or more days a week all day long. Mind you I start at 12. Ah no.
But dare I say, that was not the worst. I might forgive even jackhammers. I am a very chill mind control kind of gal. No. There was nary a shop, conbini, slightly personable looking establishment in the area *and* oh dear god the wallpaper-- carrying on this matronly theme of bad bad bad taste some sort of chairrail high pseudo-Olive Garden style green stripey disaster with swishy plant life patterns. Help.
I know how this works. Nighttrain and I got worked over the coals when we rented that dark god-forsaken apartment in Terrytown. They guy took us to a couple of nice-looking complexes, went in to the office, no doubt chatted up his staff buds then came out to tell us the place he wanted to show us was already rented. Showed us a total dive and finally took us to the last place which we more than readily signed for because the pressure was *on* and anyway Nighttrain had to get out of his place.
So she showed me the dump then showed me the decent place. Spit-shined.
The decent place...well, I live in the burbs now. I have carpet. I have an equally inefficient set-up(for living, not for building or consuming space). Yeah the washing machine is right by the front door. Yeah the closet space is negligible. Oh this one lacked a shoe closet. I mean, in Japan, no shoe closet! One burner, not two, but gas...so...
No tatami. None here either. I am going to buy some and find someone to make me a nice frame and squish them together. I tell you. Wallpaper dirtier than here. Bathroom sink squidged in between the closet and kitchen, across the hall from the bathroom (actually an improvement practically if not aesthetically from the one here which is in the shower basically).
That's the bad stuff. My main requirements: location, location, location and oh yeah some kind of impersoal quality to make me feel like I'm somewhere cooler than I belong.
Spades!
The entryway is this dark cavern with an immense I mean immense security door. The mailboxes are aesthetically tall and narrow. Then into the dark passage that is the stairwell and elevator shaft. Later noticed there is a 1-foot wide brick rail next to the steps to roll your bike up to the storage area.
The place: wood floor, 1LDK (i.e. two rooms). One long long room separated into two "rooms" by a sliding modernized glass shoji stand-in.
[Vacation - the Go-Go's btw. This song breaks my heart. For reals. I had it on the only mixed tape I had in my car the last two years in Austin. Spent a lot of time belting it out. Oh hell, I just missed singing in my car. Used to power jam. Lotta steering wheel drumming and screaming and...no wonder I like karaoke. I should go by myself. Anyway.]
Anyway, there's a little grocery across the street which is a total rarity in that neck of the skyscraper woods. Actually the whole little block is a find because we had to drive around to park and there are restaurants, pubs, coffee shops, of every strain. Even a number with seats on the street (oh joy, I must always be on the street). Indian curry shop in the basement across the street. Okonomiyaki. Izakaya I think. Some ostensibly "Aussie" pub. I don't believe it but it hardly matters.
15 minutes at most on bike from where I work. 15 minutes on foot I think from the main shopping arcade in Shinsaibashi. 15 minutes from club/night life of south Osaka. 5 min from subway. Oh what do I need? Tatami. I need a carpenter to build me a bin/tray thing for tatami. Shoot,
DREW: Stop cruising Pennsylvania if that's where you are. I need a builder of things. Can you bring a power tool on a plane?
I am nesting. That's weird. Kill me now. I want a couch and a nice digital projector and a screen. I want tatami. I want a small table and lots of zabuton to sit on. I think I need my wireless router but I'm not sure. If it's not in use...I need it. I want a little portable oven and a wall-rack for pans. And I want pans.
That is all I want.
Oh hell, I am going to have to put the books somewhere. I need a bookshelf.
Long story short. The place actually is cute. The long room, wood floors. I can imagine the tatami by the window with a little table on it. A couch and chairs here. Tiny desk there. Nifty photos my friends and I have taken all down the long walls. I am going to be happy there. You know when you are making concessions. I'm not. You know when a place is right. I may stay a long long time...
