planning for a pandemic

Dsc01720

taking the afternoon off to visit the immigration office in shinagawa, was not exactly my idea of relaxation. sure i got to leave work early, but i had been having flushes for a week thinking about what the visit would entail. i dont know why i get so worked up when i have to fill out documents, present myself as an upstanding citizen worthy of staying in the country and flashing my credentials around.
as i stepped off the bus i was instantly hit by the fact that about eighty five percent of the foriegners now residing in tokyo, had also decided to take the afternoon off to get their visas sorted. i raced up the elevator to scope out the situation. a friend had told me, it shouldnt take too long. i had learnt once before that you always get your numbered ticket prior to spending half an hour filling out the often incomprehensible forms.
i grabbed for the number, glancing at it (624) and then up at the current customer number on the screen (412) the full brunt of this ordeal hit me...exactly 212 others would go before me.
i had some other business to get sorted out, which took no time, then i found a quiet little spot to fill in the three forms i had been given.
i dont know what it is, but when i am in situations like that or even at the airport, i treasure my passport like it is some kind of diamond encrusted bra and hold onto it for dear life. maybe i have watched too many movies rife with international espionage and identity theft. i clutch my little blue book embellished with its innocent aussie logo, in fear that the 12 spies surrounding me with their wires, cameras and amnesia, are poised to whisk my selfhood from me, leaving me a nobody in a foreign country; only to sell my identity to some underworld 'gorgeous alchemist'.
anyway after a long lounge around and a few emails and calls to my tokyo pals, the next thing i know the gorgeous yet totally 'over it!' lassie who dealt with my case was sending me on my way.
little did i know, as i rode the bus back to the station that i was in for an even bigger gut grabber. now i'm not one for getting caught up in media hype, in fact i bore and berate those around me with my constant crys of 'never believe anything you see on tv or read in the paper' ' you cant trust anything in the media' blah blah. yet as i strolled back through the horde, making my way for the station i glanced up at a big screen. usually belting out visuals of the latest product or pop star, this one displayed the cnn logo in the bottom corner, an official looking dude reading off some document and the caption in big, bold, red, letters - 'PLANNING FOR THE PANDEMIC' Usually I would brush something like this off, viewing it as scare tactics, but i instantly remembered an article i had read in last weeks newsweek about the bird flu and its economic side effects. i then remembered all the other crazy banter i heard on the topic. my mind then flashed to zume saying, only a few nights ago, that he really thinks we should head back to australia soon because the japanese economy is going to get the flu. and then suddenly i found myself surrounded by swarms of coughing and spluttering salary men.
needless to say as soon as i got in the door of my apartment, i scrubbed myself down, gargled and put my clothes in the washer. paranoid? perhaps... but i also googled 'planning for a pandemic' and do you know what came up? - 'Can you survive the bird flu? www.survivetheflew.com' can you believe that??
while i don't intend to get too panic striken about this, i think the threat of such an outbreak is enough to make me a little more proactive...its enough to make me chose my bike over the train; even when i am feeling a little sleepy in the mornings. its enough to get me setting up a 'gargle station' at work and enforcing a stricter handwashing routine.
enough to get me filling my glass just a little higher tonight
here's to good health
kampai

past life

In a Past Life...

You Were: A Gorgeous Alchemist. Where You Lived: Russia. How You Died: Decapitation.

Who Were You In a Past Life?

see now that's what i like to hear!

certainly explains my recent neck problems

don't ask me how i stumbled upon such i thing - believe me i certainly wasn't searching for it...i wasn't!

but i posted it because i heard a story from a friend, about a japanese girl who went to a fortune teller, a common thing to do in japan. this fortune teller only charged a mere 3000 dollars to tell the girl all about her past life. yes, that was 3000 dollars.

when the all seeing teller relayed to the girl that she was once, in fact a pirates wife and a gang leaders girl (both of which i would have been extremely content with - pretty cool huh?) a light bulb moment sprung forth ... 'ah so that's why this life sucks so much'...'but wait never fear' said the the teller 'for not only can i tell you what you were, now that i have your 3000 dollars, i will also be so kind as to change your past life for you so that all things in this life will soon be well'

sure why not thought the girl, and so in no time the teller had rearranged her past and given her a more holy past position. no longer a pirates wife (which just sounds radder every time i write it) she was now a - NUN ???

(i think at that point i may have promptly asked for my money back)

i also think the three grand could have been more wisely spent and the chick could have just as easily gone to the 'what were you in a past life?' part of the blogthings site. she herself would even have the power to change her own past.

see look what i was this time round....

In a Past Life...

You Were: An Albino Sailor. Where You Lived: Central Africa. How You Died: Dysentery.

Who Were You In a Past Life?

obviously shat myself to death

ouch

we

since december last year, when we basically spent the whole winter locked away in what i like to think of as a cosy log cabin in the woods but was in actual fact a studio apartment the size of a caravan on the outskirts of tokyo, we have been meaning to get together, collaborate, mix it up multicultural style. for any of you who have read the about page of this site/blog/page you may have noticed that we originally intended to  go halves on the writing side of things. so far i have been 100% writer and the boy has been more of a silent partner in this whole venture, a fact finder and information giver/interpreter.  but i am pushing more, ensuring we are going on plenty of dates to trendy tokyo hot spots to fuel him with enough inspiration to spring into literary action sometime soon. so keep yours eyes peeled for some entertaining english to come...
oh and happy halloween - alas i fail to provide any post worthy pictures of me in the insanely oversized, neck to toe, fluffy bear costume i sported all day. i danced, sang, read, drew, skipped, smiled, guided, played the day away with a superficial aura of friendly beary fluffy love, while underneath it all i was literally sweating like a pig. feeling my legs go to jelly on a number of occassions due to my out of control body temperature, i gave thanks to the saint of halloween for providing the candy sugar rush that kept me on my paws just long enough to wave the last buzz light year and disney princess off at 2 oclock this afternoon.

Img_0403_1

there was some crazy heat happening on the street as i rushed to the station saturday night (was on my way to meet zume at a spunky daikanyama cafe - a date at the place we first met aahhh how romantic) trying ever so hard not to be late, as i usually am for most social events, i was struck by the bright flashing lights and the men in uniform swarming the street. i couldn't help but take a few snapshots. the crowd was so intense and ever increasing and the fleet of red fire trucks made our eventless street seem like a hollywood movie set.
seems someone or something was trapped on the 5th story of a tired looking apartment block. i really couldn't stick around to witness the full outcome of the rescue. but alls i can say is that 'when the subway explodes into a million pieces and i just happen to be riding it - there had better be just as many frantic fire officers and their shiny red trucks at my rescue!'