Hitler in Natural Fibers

Starbucks Japan uses fake matcha powder. I’m so disillusioned. I asked if they could make me a 濃い matcha latte, and the young male clerk kind of giggled and said “we can put extra powder in?” I sighed. Japan! You can do better than the U.S. at tea drinks, even if I am at Starbucks. If Japan Ben N’ Jerry’s can have delicious yuzu-vanilla cookie ice cream than Sbux can use real freakin’ matcha.

But that wasn’t actually what I wanted to write about, was it? Enh….

I went to get a hair trim yesterday. A trim. But I did mention to the stylist that the top of my (short) hair was feeling a little heavy, and that perhaps a tiny bit of thinning could be done. (I thought I had thick hair until I came to Japan. I also thought I had coarse hair until I spent time petting the magic quick-dry hair that T is blessed with. Seriously, his hair is dry 10 minutes after he showers, and he has more of it than I do!)

Ahem. Anyway, the guy wanted to shave my head. He had this vision of a chelsea haircut on me. Er, no, I said. Maybe when I was 24, not 34. He said “I have an idea”.

Now I have the same haircut as Hitler. T giggled when he saw me. Well, he giggled after I told him I’d joined Hitler Youth. And he said the same thing he said the last time I got a bad haircut in Japan: “You can wear one of my hats”. Then he remembered he is throwing me a goodbye party on Monday and exclaimed: “Oh no, everyone will see your hair!”

Thanks for the vote o’ confidence there, bro.

Sitting on the train today, across from a Shinto priest and a girl in a fluffy Lolita dress, I felt so sad… it didn’t help that the Johnny Cash song “I See a Darkness” had come onto my iPhone at that time, but the two sadnesses were a bit like cross-currents in a stream. I needed so badly to leave Tokyo months ago, to take a break. But now that I am a bit better, a bit removed from that breakdown, I don’t want to go.

I feel at home here.

I hate living in a one-room apartment with another person. But if we moved, I could probably find peace here.

And who else has ever been as kind to me as T? He, who spends his one day off a week at the consumer advocacy bureau arguing emphatically to get me out of unfair cellphone charges. Who bends over backwards to help me with my work. Who will sleep on the floor so I can sleep better in the bed?

I paid our gas bill and bought the nicest coffee I could find for our apartment as a little token of thanks, but I can never really thank him fully for everything. The prior messes we got into together were as much my fault as his, and certainly not acts of malice on his part.

I also noticed that I have old-white-lady legs. Yeesh. All those little blue veins and red spots where I absentmindedly scratch when doing.. anything. There’s a reason I wear skirts with leggings, and long pants even in the summer.

T loves rose-fruit scented laundry detergent, and smelling my fruity-floral shirt and contemplating my legs distracted me from more significant thoughts for a while.

I also tried to buy a Jawbone UP today, spontaneously, but they’re sold out everywhere in Tokyo still. They’ve been sold out since February here! What the….  I have a stupid number of points on my Bic Camera card and was going to use them all, so it wouldn’t have cost me much of anything~ and that is why I didn’t want to just wait until I got back to the U.S.

Ok, I’m in a bookstore. Time to go find the book I came for and to stop with the fragmented thoughts.

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