Posted in Slice of Life

I Hate Exercise, But Luckily I Live In Japan

When I lived in Kentucky, I was significantly larger than I am now. My weight consistently fluctuated between 155-175 pounds (about 70-79 kilos ish). My issue was during university I would be more active and I’d have regular access to healthier options of food. In the summer, I worked long hours at Papa Johns and drive around delivering pizzas all day long. And yeah, of course, there was an abundance of free or discounted pizza happening all the time.

Couple this with a pretty awesome fact: I didn’t really care about my weight then, and honestly still didn’t really care about weight until maybe the past couple of years. I can say honestly I’ve had many self-esteem issues, but somehow my identity of me as a person/woman never got tied up with whatever the numbers on scale were.

Sometimes I would have phases were I really care. I joined my mom on weight watcher for a bit, then quit because I just stopped caring. My highest priorities in university weren’t exercising but just getting the grades and credits to graduate. I was the first kid in my family to get into university straight out of high school, and I didn’t want to let anyone down. Fuck the damn carbs, I need to stay up all night for a final study cram session, I’ll figure that out later.

When I got to Japan, I didn’t have a car for about a month and half of first living there. Instead, I arrived at the end of July in 2011, just before summer vacation started. I had a rusty bike and a big desire to explore Japan.

And so I biked everywhere, for hours upon hours, just going and going. I always thought the term “shedding pounds” was a weird term coined by protein bar companies, but I found out it was quite possible with the right amount of exercise! I watched as the numbers went down and just thought, “Wow, neat!”

Somehow, once again, my identity didn’t get tied into the numbers on the scale or the pants size. I was me, and I liked to study Japanese in my free time and read books. I didn’t really care about the loss or gains, just because really it didn’t matter to me.

I will admit that lately I’ve started to care. Ever since I moved back up to Tokyo last year, I noticed that even though I’m eating healthier than ever before, I am not losing weight at all. I turned completely vegetarian six months ago because my stomach issues were just unbearable. So now, I eat vegetables with rice or pasta, and that’s like my daily intake of food.

But I know that the main issue is the thing I hate the most: exercise.

I’ve been active before, as in growing up I bounced from a kids soccer team to a t-ball team to a basketball team to a color guard/winter guard year. All the same, I know I should exercise a hell of a lot more than I do.

Luckily, as the title states, I live in Japan.

What does that mean? Well, for one, I walk a lot already every day. It is easy to simply add more walking daily. I’ve already kind of started doing this, just getting up and going for walks if I ever get breaks at work. It also means the odds of me being able to walk around my neighborhood at night without any problems are high. I already have started walking 30 minutes every day when I get home from work.

In addition, even though I live farther out in the suburbs of Tokyo, I can in fact have my choice of gyms. I can just take taiken lessons (like demo lessons or demo weeks) and see which ones I like here and there. If I don’t like the company run ones, there is in fact a small community gym near my station. All in all, the building blocks to a healthier way of life are all around me, I just gotta figure out a path and take it.

I think it in general helps that I know I’m doing the weight loss journey thing as more or less just to stay healthy. I think being obese really isn’t something I want to go back to being, and I’m gaining back into that edge. I want to be able to travel and do things even when I’m old and grey haired, so in order to do that I know that I’ve got to take the exercise initiative seriously starting from now.

Turning 30 for some people means panicking, but for me it means evaluating. I know for a fact, like I can feel in my bones, that I definitely don’t have that old young metabolism anymore. I can’t just eat salads for a few weeks and lose 5 pounds anymore, I’m going to have to really put in effort to maintain/lose weight.

I’ve seen people do vlogs about their weight loss and doing more exercise and things, but I don’t really feel comfortable with the idea of doing a weight loss vlog journey. However, I do feel comfortable writing about it, and I think it’ll help me stay responsible if I talk about it here and there. Accountability is a good thing to have, I think.

I will be honest, I have no idea what my numbers are right now. I don’t own a weight scale anymore. The last one I owned was two years ago, and I never even used it but once in a blue moon. I will be getting a health check at my new place of employment in April, so then maybe I can give some updates. For now though, I just kind of wanted to talk about it.

I think my goal for now is get back down to a healthy 65(ish) kilos, like I was in my first and second Japan years. I felt really good at that weight, and I could go shopping no problem. Also, I feel as if that’s a realistic kilo weight loss goal I could accomplish in a year or so. This is definitely not going to be a crash diet nonsense thing, I’m making a commitment to putting in the work so I can have a healthier life…kind of thing.

I don’t intend to obsess or turn my whole life into the weight loss thing, I’ll just occasionally talk about it. What worked, what didn’t , how this feels, how this sucks, etc.

With any luck, a side benefit will be that I can run to the train station and not feel winded. I’m not saying that’s what inspired this whole journey…but I will say it played a part in the decision. I live fifteen minutes away, I need to be able to book it without dying in the mornings.

Anyways, thanks for reading! Be sure to follow along and check back in soon. I’ll be doing book reviews and such this week.

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Posted in Slice of Life

Eight Years Later: Always Remembering 3/11

Today was the eight year anniversary of the Great Tohoku Earthquake. Even though I don’t write about it every year, I do still take this as a day of remembrance.

When I saw the news about the tsunami that struck Japan, I panicked. I frantically emailed and Facebook messaged people over in Japan, desperate to hear if everyone was alright. A friend I studied abroad with the year before was right there, but she survived. My host families were alright, but in mourning. People they knew were gone.

The numbers of missing and dead increased. In the end, over 18,000 lives were lost. The after shocks rocked the whole eastern coast for over a year afterwards. I remember vividly just feeling so helpless while watching the news. It broke my heart to see a country I loved so much in such deep pain. I wanted to be there, to somehow help.

Then, I got on the JET Program in 2011, in July. I went into an apartment with problematic water and gas issues. I wasn’t supposed to cook with water from the tap, but go get water from the grocery store every other day. I biked over broken and shifted roads, as in roads shifted all the way over from their original placements.

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I also managed to find more old photos and thought I’d share them. This is a road where the ground just sank underneath this sidewalk.

(Exerpt from 5 Years Later: Reflections on March 11th)

When I arrived in Itako, so many of the roads were cracked, shifted sideways, or in waves. The school across the street from me had a long crack up the side still being repaired. Most of the buildings in the area dropped an inch into the ground after the earthquake hit; due to the rice farming, the entire region was so soft underneath the ground just gave way.

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A sidewalk pushed up by the earthquake. The road used to be a straight line, not a curve. Notice the poles about to fall over.

For a month or so, if I wanted clean water to drink and cook with, I’d have to bike all the way out to the supermarket to get water. I’d fill it up and lug it home with the groceries in a backpack killing my shoulders. The whole time I was doing it, I knew I was lucky because so many others were facing he grief of losing family, friends, and homes. I just had to do some exercise. Nothing I experienced could even come close to that kind of awful.

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The street would go up and down like waves sometimes, too.

I was amazed at how resilient my Japanese co-workers and students were about everything. Even though their country just went through something terribly traumatic, they were still able to work forward towards getting back to normal. My teachers often praised me for coming to Japan after the earthquake, calling me brave, but I feel like my boarding a plane and their surviving a natural disaster weren’t comparable.

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This is supposed to be a sidewalk. On the left the road had rippled, and this side of the road went vertical.
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Basically, the road cracked here in five different places. Once where the white gravel is crossing the road, another in a V shape at the intersection, and again in the middle of the road. Parts of the road to the right were completely gone and swallowed up by displaced rice fields.
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Sorry it’s so dark, but here is a road that just sank down a good foot from where it used to be. That’s why there were water and gas issues and some areas without electricity still. These poles here had loose electrical wiring just dangling this way and that.

My students just rolled with the aftershocks, of which there were many in the year to follow, even if they sometimes needed to hold my hand when a big one struck during class. They’d still move on, go to the next class, keep trucking through. I really admired all of them for being so strong, even if they didn’t think of it.

Over the three years I lived there, I watched as everything slowly transformed. The roads around my apartment were done one at a time, painstakingly thorough in trying to make them straight again. You’d never know that the buildings are two inches shorter with all the stairs and foundations redone. When the construction finally died down, everyone relaxed and got into a groove of normalcy again. The cracks in the buildings and the psyches became faded lines that you had to look for, and if you weren’t looking you wouldn’t even see them at all.


I worked and taught in a place that suffered from many, many aftershocks for the first year and a half, though. There were a lot of earthquake alarms, and the whole apartment would sway back and forth constantly. I eventually grew to just accept it, but it was a wild ride.

In February 17th of 2013, I participated in the Kashima Friendship Association Japanese Speech Contest and talked about the 3/11 tragedy. However, I kind of always regretted how that speech felt a bit self-involved. I wish I could’ve spoken more about how inspiring my teachers and students were for making their lives and their city come back together.

I also wished I had shared the stories of the people who went through everything, too. I got around to it…in March of 2017, but I should’ve done that far earlier.


(Excerpt from Flashback Friday: On March 11th)

My predecessor, L, told me she was playing outside when it hit, and that no one could move, the entire world was shaking too hard. She had to take a taxi back home, but the roads were cracked open in some areas or completely shifted off to one side, like some surreal dystopian painting come to life.

L went home to find many of her things knocked down, the water off, and electricity unavailable. Even up until the day I moved in, I wasn’t supposed to use the water from the tap to drink or cook with. Instead, I had to bike twenty minutes or so to the nearest grocery store to get a huge tub of water in a plastic container.

In this hard time, the neighbors helped her out, and her friend, A, let her stay for a bit since her house wasn’t as affected as the main area of Itako. People pulled resources together to have meals, shared water when others had none, and kept their sense of community throughout the chaos.

The people in Mito weren’t as lucky in terms of damage. The JETs there relayed tales of broken bridges and roads, completely unusable. Only one or two JETs in the area had running water and electricity. Thankfully, they opened their doors to others, so people crammed into those apartments to take showers and essentially live there until things got back up and running again. If not for them, family members wouldn’t have known they were alive, they might’ve not had meals.

For people with diabetes, it was a nightmare scenario, since insulin requires both a doctor and a pharmacy but neither were available (same went for allergy and asthma problems). Luckily, friends helped out, and sometimes also the supervisors and co-workers. Medicine was found and given to the people who needed it most, even if it took all day to bike to one side of a city and back, people were getting the resources where they needed to go.

But sometimes the supervisors were unsympathetic. One Mito JET spoke about his supervisor harassing him into coming to school. Even though the students didn’t come and many other teachers weren’t there, they expected him to show up (for reasons he never really understood). The issue with the demands wasn’t so much that he didn’t want to go to work (he actually did, his school had electricity and internet access) but he couldn’t get there.

“When the earthquake hit, you know how L showed you the roads? Yeah, imagine the same thing for the trains. My station was busted up real bad.” He told me and picked up his smartphone to show me pictures. On his screen were downed power lines, resting over railroad tracks split in half.

“They kept trying to tell me ‘just take a taxi’ or something, but everyone was taking the taxi. It was an impossible thing to ask. They had family and friends, you know? But I just got here! I didn’t know anyone yet.”

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Via the Telegraph | This is the Joban Motorway near Mito, Ibaraki

But I do think there is some merit to collecting and sharing these stories even into today. Putting a spotlight on Tohoku and Fukushima is important, because recovery is very much still ongoing. Many people I know seem to be under the impression it’s all done and over, but for many people in Fukushima they are still living in “temporary” housing. Infrastructure is still lacking in some places in Miyagi as well.

And so going back to the five year anniversary post, I wrote about 3/11 all over again, but this time including fundraisers for Fukushima (as the government was getting called out for not helping the region recover).

Two fundraisers that I mentioned in the previous blog posts are the Taylor Anderson Fundraiser, so named after the JET participant who died in the tsunami, and as always, the Red Cross. (However, note that the Red Cross is giving priority to the Hokkaido 2018 earthquake now.

And also, the Japan Red Cross is everywhere. Giving blood in times when there isn’t a disaster, like say right now, is better than right after a disaster strikes. I used to give blood annually when I was working in schools, but I skipped last year because of health reasons.

However, there are still other organizations out there! Another active group in Tohoku is the JCS Rainbow Project which is dedicated to helping children of Fukushima recover. Every year the Japan Club of Sydney brings over children from Japan to share their stories and they send aid to Japan.

Another organization is the Japan Society Earthquake Relief Fund. They are still taking donations for both the Tohoku Earthquake and the Kumamoto Earthquake from 2016.

A big rebuilding project for Fukushima is Asubito Fukushima, General Incorporated Association. “Asubito” is their own Japanese mixed word that means, “people who create tomorrow, people who clear the path to tomorrow.” It’s a huge project that intends to help both reconstruction and fostering math as well as science skills in local Fukushima schools.

Nowadays, less and less programs have calls for volunteers in the Tohoku and Fukushima areas. At the same time, if you want to volunteer, Peace Boat has volunteering activities all across the country to help with disaster relief. I personally recommend going through Peace Boat if you’re a native English speaker. It is possible to volunteer through the Red Cross as well, but I’ve been told they’re looking for more Japanese speaking volunteers instead of English speakers.

On this day of remembrance, it’s important to reflect and mourn those lost. Then, it’s also important to spotlight those places still affected and give them what aid we can to help. As a teacher, most of the fundraisers here are focusing on how to help kids in schools. Around Christmas time I try to still send gifts to children in Fukushima or Tohoku, because usually it’s the children affected most by the disasters.

Even after eight years or ten or twenty, recovery will still be going on and people will still be remembering this tragedy. Other tragedies have come along as well, so we add them into this cultural narrative of shared mourning. I hope that in time the healing will come, but we’re still not completely done. I’m still here, and I’ll still keep trying to help.


Bonus: This is a really well done documentary style video about after the tsunami. Highly recommend it, but get your tissues prepared.

Posted in Slice of Life

Carrying It Along: On Grief and Loss

My uncle died recently. It was a very sudden cancer diagnosis, and then just like that, he was gone. I would say he was a “distant relative,” but I knew him. I wish I could be there with my family in America for the funeral, but there is no money and no time for grief. I think my company perhaps gives grieving leave (I haven’t checked) but I think that’s only for immediate family and needing to leave the country.

My uncle was a good grandfather to my cousins. He had a sense of humor I really couldn’t quite get, honestly. I chuck it up to a generational gap and non-familiarity, since he lived states away when I was growing up in Kentucky. I’d been to his house in Oklahoma more than once when I got older. We had a big family gathering there once, the typical Southern way of playing games and eating WAY too much food.

I like to respect him by remembering him fondly. Although, it feels wrong of me to grieve, being so far away? Having not seen him in years? But I do feel bad for my aunt and uncle losing someone, along with my mother who will be attending the funeral. I wish I at least had the money to send flowers, somehow.

These kinds of griefs are hard to explain, because I’ve had a few over here. Second year into the JET Program, Gabby -the family dog back home in the U.S.- died. I was very glad I went back home for Christmas so I could see her one last time. Jack, my mom’s cat, died around or before that same time.
It all hurt, but there was nothing I could do except tell my Mom, “I’m so so sorry you’re going through this.” Because she was really there dealing with it all, while I was miles away in a foreign country.

It feels wrong of me to mourn when everyone else is there, actually having to deal with the funerals and arrangements. I know, logically, that’s not the healthy way of thinking about it, and that these feelings are all valid.

I guess though that means my guilt for being abroad when things like deaths in the family happen is also valid, too. I don’t want to make it about me, because I’m not even there. Does that make sense? And I really just want to be there to support the people I love who are hurting more than me, no doubt. So I just don’t say much of anything about my own grief, because it really feels so small and insignificant in comparison to someone who just lost someone right there. What kind of asshole monster would I be if I said anything?

Also, sometimes my grief is a bit ridiculous. When my mom decided to move out to Oklahoma permanently, and the house I lived in for most of my life was put on market. Even though I was only going to visit that place once a year, it cut deep to think I’d never see it again.

I got over it, eventually, but I still have these dreams of being in my old room sometimes. Not all of these dreams are super fantastically detailed, but I wake up feeling like I left something behind. It’s a strange disconnect for a few seconds until I remember, oh right, it’s not there anymore. Well, physically it is, but I can never go back to it.

A lot of grief disconnects, and then has to get reconnected for me. Before my uncle, there was actually another loss I really haven’t processed, and maybe I never will. A friend from high school died, and once again, there was nothing I could do but send Facebook message condolences. I couldn’t believe it, still kind of can’t. I still see her in my mind’s eye as someone alive, smiling, laughing.

Once again, we hadn’t seen each other in years. I liked her a lot in high school, though. She and I had a very similar sense of humor, and she was one of the people I could just talk to easily. It was a small school, a small town, we grew up together. But we weren’t super best friends, too, and I’m not family. Again, this grief feels wrong to have when I am disconnected in so many ways.

But I remember staying after school with her, and we roamed the empty halls just talking and laughing about things. I remember how we both complained about a certain teacher, and we couldn’t wait to get out of high school. There are things I’m going to look back at now and have to remind myself that she’s really gone. It feels impossible, somehow.

In the past, I have lost other people, but these recent ones came right on top of each other without a year’s break in between like the others. I lost another uncle about a year ago, and he was a lovely man who bought me literally the best beer I’d ever beer I’d ever had in my life. An ex-boyfriend from university died in a car crash. I had bought him a Japanese manga version of BLEACH for him. It’s still on my bookshelf.

All of it happened, and they are all gone. Grieving is different for everyone, I know, and for me each grief carries its own set of a different sort of aching when I think about them. My latent Christianity hopes that everyone is alright, blessed and at peace where they belong. I pray that all my family members find their own closure, that everyone gets through it with the support and love they need. I do what I can from far off, but it never feels like much or even near enough.

The best I feel I can do is honor the memories I have and carry them with me. I don’t know what to do with the grief that accompanies them and when it hits me at the strangest times, but I’ll carry it all along anyway. And perhaps if I share a little bit of what I’m feeling maybe that’ll make it a little easier. Maybe one day I’ll be a little more emotionally mature, and I can properly process how I feel.

Until then, I’ll just remember them all fondly, with love.

Posted in Slice of Life

Too Busy To Even Do Laundry

Whoa boy! What a Golden Week.

I finished up my training for work. Yay! Which means I now have to work. Yay? Kind of yay. I’m getting used to it. Now that I’m back into eikaiwa work, it’s odd to try and teach all ages again. And I gotta get used to the program this company uses, too. The books for each level, the specific process for the classes, and so on and so forth are all new with a side of confusing.

But let’s get back to that later (like tomorrow).

I also ended up doing the Tokyo Rainbow Pride planning and volunteering for Stonewall Japan. I decided to step down as Vice President, as I believe I mentioned before, so now I’m Kanto East Block Leader. I will mostly be making events happen in Tokyo in the near future as well as posting other people’s events to the Facebook page, but there are also many other responsibilities.

The planning process for TRP took some time. L____ the VP, P____ the Treasurer, and myself all got together on Google Hangouts to discuss ideas for the event for a couple of hours. Once we got our ideas finalized, we had a couple of weeks to get our projects done. As I was still in job training, that meant I needed to find free time with a super limited budget in order to get my materials for my project.

I didn’t really succeed. My “plan” was to buy Polaroid film for a camera, borrow my roommates camera, and have an album frame a la Instagram so people could take a picture home with them. As it turns out, the film costs 1,000 yen for a pack of 10 sheets. At 100 yen a sheet, I couldn’t afford to buy over 10,000 yen worth of sheets for this big event. I ended up just making the frame, which was cute and everyone loved it, but I just wished I could’ve afforded those sheets.

But in between all of these activities, I also needed to get my visa things sorted before May 1st. See, during Golden Week there were two days in which I could go to immigration to change my visa from an Instructor to a Humanities visa. I also needed to send off a self-addressed stamped envelope to my old city for tax information, which I didn’t realize was necessary for changing a status, but whatever. I got that done, it came in the mail after about a week.

I was a nervous wreck at the visa office. I was number 964, which meant 964 people had come in line before me. NOT GOOD. I had arrived at 11:00 a.m. in case you’re thinking I must’ve arrived later in the day. I knew, I just KNEW I should’ve arrived at opening time, but I just didn’t have the gumption in the morning to get up and get moving. Regrets, I have them!

Every hour that passed I was panicking. What if I can’t get my visa things done today? What if I have to come back? There were so many people around me standing because all the seats were taken. I could hear the window people getting yelled at by people who didn’t bring their passport copies, demanding that the employees make an exception for them. I could also overhear various people wondering if it mattered that they didn’t bring their university degree copy. OF COURSE IT DOES!!

Basically, it took over seven hours before my visa papers were finally submitted to the slowest receptionist available at the visa immigration office. She refused to rush, getting each paper a look over, then stamping in certain places, then going to get a different sheet of paper, and looking over it again- WOMAN JUST GIVE ME MY TEMPORARY NUMBER PLEASE!!

Finally, at 18:15, I got out of there. Now I have to wait two weeks or more to get a new visa. Luckily with eikaiwa work I’ll be off on one weekday in a week, so I’ll be able to go get it (pending approval) sometime soon.

All these different things kind of happening all at the same time means my laundry just kind of piled up around the apartment. I now live with a roommate [X] and we don’t currently have a washer. We do have a coin laundry just down the street, but with everything else going on and with the rainy season coming a bit early, it’s been a while since I’ve had a good day to do it.

Today will be that day. Tomorrow I want to talk about the new eikaiwa job, and then a little later I want to write about Tokyo Rainbow Pride 2018. I want to say a lot of things about TRP2018, but I need to collect my thoughts before I do. Until next time!

Posted in Slice of Life, Uncategorized

MORE Black and Queer Music PLEASE!!

Everything from Janelle Monáe has been awesome and fight me if you think otherwise. It’s apologetically black, queer, and woman empowering in a way that I think is groundbreaking.

And the she just dropped the whole damn Dirty Computer album’s movie on us.

She just came out as pansexual, which is HIGHLY REPRESENTED in this movie. My bisexual heart is in love with it (I say bi because I like the honor the history that comes with it, I am open to dating anyone I fall in love with much like pansexuality). I adore how this entire music was a work of art and a labor of love.
Specifically though, I want to just point out the Make Me Feel song.
I cried when I saw this music video. I have been telling people for YEARS that when I like someone, I just like them. There’s no way to explain, “But why?” Because I just do? I don’t really have a particular type, I just like who I like. And then there is a music video that puts it out there!!! I haven’t stopped listening to this song since I heard it. At least once a day like a vitamin I take this song in and let it soothe my soul.
But let’s also talk about Todrick Hall!
Firstly, I want his outfit from Dem Beats. I get called a unicorn so often I might as well just own it and become one.
Yes, RuPaul is in it and I have issues with Ru, but the style of this video and its non-binary 80’s punk vibe is just the best. The entire album Forbidden is just amazing. While I’m not a gay man, I love Todrick flaunts who his is in his identity, dancing with other men who dance with other men and just own it.
 
While there have been some talks about one particular song, Thug, as “furthering stereotypes” and “fetishes black male bodies” I gotta disagree. I’m a white woman so I can’t speak for all gay black men (ever, at all, I’m not that trashy), but from my eyes it looks like Todrick is trying flip the script on what it means to be/want a “Thug.” Queer used to be a slur, but the community took it back. By taking a word commonly associated with criminality and stereotyping and using it to describe a rough top, it’s taking ownership of that word to use it in a different context.
Also, it’s not a “fetish” to want a black male gay man when the person in the damn music video is a BLACK MALE GAY MAN TRYING TO BRING ATTENTION TO BLACK MALE GAY MEN. Dammit people, being sexual and gay doesn’t automatically equal “fetish,” I’m so tired of this argument. Same for Janelle’s PYNK video!
People got their panties all in a twist because she featured *gasp* VAGINAS in her video. I loved it, because how often do we actually get to talk about vaginas not in a comedy or gross context? Rarely if ever, and rarely if ever do vaginas get the celebration they deserve. People went back to that same old that she’s “exploiting” or turning black lesbian/bi women into a “fetish.” NO, she’s wanting to celebrate being those things and show the world it’s fine to celebrate all of those aspects of being a woman and/or loving a woman.
Anyways, all of these tunes are fantastic. Thanks to the YouTube algorithm, it also reminded me that Bob the Drag Queen exists and told me I missed a video released last year.
 
This one I like because, well, it’s funny! I mean, I wish I could say I love it for its artistic value and because oh what an age we live in that drag queens can be YouTube stars…but if I’m being honest I just adore the fact that it’s legit just all about the drama of the Drag Race and people slamming on each other. I’m not perfect, people, sometimes I like drama too, but I like really specific drama, men in dresses and ten pounds of makeup calling each other bitches specifically.
Is it problematic? Yes, but all of these videos are, and I love them. I want to see more, more beats, more drama, more queens flaunting their identities please! I want a new music age where black queerness gets to be on top and running for months on top 10 billboard countdowns.  I want them dominating the charts!
GIMME MORE!

 

Posted in Slice of Life, Uncategorized

Adorable Puppers “Saved” by Japanese Police

Today, I ate lunch outside in the sun with M____ and N____, two other training buddies at my new company. We were talking about a variety of topics while eating sandwiches, when suddenly a horrid crime was committed.

Two tiny fluffy puppers got left outside by their owner.

The pups were obviously distraught by literally all the love and attention thrown their way by the “dangerous” people petting them. An old lady took it a step further and reported this crime to the police (after all of five minutes of observation).

Immediately, the heroes came to the rescue!

With totally not just absolutely pleased smiles on their faces.

After a cursory check via lots of petting and cooing noises, the police searched nearby stores for the owner to come fetch these totally abandoned baby doggos.

The two men switched out every five minutes or so, and they totally didn’t keep bending down to reassure their fluffy wards that everything was fine each time they changed out. After about twenty minutes from the police “call,” the bewildered owner/criminal came out to find the police with his pups.

Confused about what exact crime he committed, the police politely explained that leaving cute things unattended will bring the wrath of retired housewives and he must take better care not to leave his furry family members out on the street (presumably anyway, as I wasn’t close enough to hear).

With their mission accomplished, I made sure to shout a very well appropriate “Ostukaresamadeshita!” to the giggling policemen as they passed by. They thanked me before resuming their ever vigilant watch at the station for other nefarious deeds.

The pups are well and expecting to have a full recovery from their ordeal.

*Note: For those of you who will inevitably cry foul about the owner’s behavior, he left the two little puff balls leashed on a poll in the shade while he ran an errand. It’s a common occurrence here, he just had the unfortunate luck to do it at a busier point in the day nearer to a station. He’s not a bad dad, I petted his pups afterward and he’s got a bag stuffed full with doggy things. Also, their fur was well kept and fluffy when I petted them, so neglect isn’t a problem. Thank you for understanding satire! Peace.