Tokyo Blond Is Not Porn

Tokyo Blond is not a porn blog, about hair or even, as one pithy friend remarked, a micro beer or late 1980s glam metal band ("Dude, I just saw Skid Row and Tokyo Blond opened and played a killer set").


The purpose of this blog is to chronicle my experiences in Tokyo - poignantly, visually, irreverently - for fun.


Anybody can tag along...that is if I like you. This blog will endeavor to be entertaining and honest and frequent enough to keep those following interested including me.


Monday, February 28, 2011

No Business Card; No Respect

So Russell and I went to this event a couple of Tuesdays ago.  It was sponsored by some business club Russell belongs to called the FCC (not to be confused with the Federal Communications Commission).

Basically it's a bunch of people who work in marketing, or a related field, in Tokyo.  I had to put on a business suit for the first time in six months.  Good thing I brought one.  Anyway, Russell invited me because, besides cocktails, which of course I'm always game for, the guest speaker was going to talk about TED X.

I was very excited about the prospect of both, especially given everything I had heard about TED.

Boy was I disappointed, not to mention demoralized.  First, there were no cocktails.  At dinner they only served one glass of wine, which was decent, but only one.  Seriously?  Second, the guest speaker wasn't what I expected.

It was touted as an "inspiring discussion about Ted X" but really it was a guy talking about his challenges executing the 2nd ever TEd X.  He showed about 45 seconds of one TED talk and just when it started to seduce you, something about a professor and her brain, he cut if off.  I was hoping for a little more inspiration.  The only thing I was inspired to do was go home and drink and maybe log onto TED.com to find out what that's all about.

This only after I learned the hard way you don't show up to a business function in Tokyo without business cards - even if you're not employed.  My empty handed explanation of "trailing spouse" just didn't cut it.  I had to turn on the heavy charm which was just slightly more effectual than blondly pointing at my handwritten name tag that said "Dawn."  Doesn't everyone know what a "Dawn" is?

The only person remotely interested was this snazzily dressed Japanese man.  He was wearing an all cream ensemble except for his jaunty tan hat adorned with various pins of unknown origin.  Complimenting him on his cool hat was apparently an open invitation to share with me that the hat had been recently signed by Ken Watanabe, who is hot I confess.  Turns out he's a photographer and he just happened to have some black and white copies of the photo shoot he just did with Ken.  He proudly gave me one.  I demonstrated appropriate awe.

After our brief and somewhat one-sided conversation I met his manager, an Asian woman, wearing a red power suit who commented on how much healthier the food is in Japan.  I agree but later I thought maybe she was making a point about my American figure.  Nah.

Interestingly, the photographer's consort showed up a few minutes later wearing a beautiful cream colored kimono.  She didn't have a name tag; she didn't need one.  Maybe I should don a kimono next time.

And I don't know what was going on with the body odor but it seemed like one out of every three participants had serious fetor.  Russell thought it was him.  Later when I asked him why on earth would he think it was him, he said, "it kept following me around."

The highlight of the evening was the food.  No media chicken here.  I thought the appetizer plate (soup, and three kinds of salads with various meats, was the dinner, only to be delighted by another course of genuinely great crispy fish on top of a luscious mystery vegetable.  And I met a couple of interesting and accomplished females - alpha females.  This made me feel very unaccomplished indeed.  One is a partner for luminalearning and trains executives all over the world and the other is in charge of training and development for Amex Japan  They were gracious and humored me - the trailing spouse.  This was the first test of my willpower and self-validation issues.

The next event guest speaker is the head of marketing for some French chocolate company.  Part of the deal is he has to bring some of his product.  I might be ok with that but I may have to start wearing a mask.  Perhaps the Japanese have it right after all with the mask thing.

Dogzilla Takes Tokyo

The strange rash that was getting progressively worse, and looking suspiciously like hives, before we left L.A. has finally vanished.  I've stopped itching and started sleeping again.

Let's just say I was a little more than worried about Ranger-the-Wonder-Dog, aka Menace-to-Society, making the trip to Tokyo.  Nothing else concerned me. Heck I agreed to come to Tokyo sight unseen.  I had no problem finding an apartment, grocery shopping, navigating the subway alone, even opening a bank account.  But getting my dog over to Tokyo safely was my number one concern, and for the past six months, obsession.

If you read Menace Meets Microchip, posted July 2nd, you know how it all began.

When Ranger became USDA approved, (I know, sounds like a piece of meat) ten days before we departed, a thin veil of duress was lifted temporarily.  Maybe it had something to do with meeting a young Japanese girl who was in line with me at the USDA.  She was trying to bring four dogs into Japan and her flight was leaving in two hours.  Her dogs were already at the airport while she was trying to secure approval.  Holy schnikies!!!

It took me two trips to get Ranger stamped APPROVED.  Even though Russell had gone to the quarantine office at Narita airport twice and literally sat with the quarantine officer for an hour reviewing the paperwork and procedures, it was not enough.  I was revoked when my rabies certificates were not signed by the veterinarian who administered them.  The doctor's stamp was not sufficient.

And the twenty-something community college office girl at the animal hospital, where I was trying to secure the signatures, was not helpful. My businesslike approach did not sway her to demonstrate one ounce of concern much less sense of urgency.  "Yeah, (bubble gum snap) I'm not sure this is going to get done tomorrow."  Only bursting into desperate tears helped.  I should try having an emotional outburst more often - it works.

Course it didn't help either when an American girl behind me, the second time I was at the USDA, told me she didn't have to observe the six month quarantine because her husband is in the military.  Apparently you can come over with just two weeks notice if you're enlisted, can prove your dog has been properly vaccinated and promise to keep the dog on the base.  WTF?

I tried to crate train Ranger before we left.  He had never even seen a crate much less rode in one before.  After three months I was able to feed him in the crate with no problem but it wasn't like he was going in there on his own and reading Dog Fancy.

The day finally came and we packed up our three suitcases, case of wine, Ranger and dog crate.  My whole family showed up to see us off.  My sister and niece took a second car and escorted us to the airport.  I was a nervous wreck.  Ranger was curious.  I think he thought he was going to daycare.

Ranger and I waited outside Tom Bradley International Terminal while Russell checked in.  My sister and niece stayed a safe 20 feet away and shouted encouragement.  Ranger watched the throngs of people walk by and eyed them suspiciously.  Then we switched and I went into the terminal to check in.  The woman at the gate exclaimed how much my husband cares about our dog. "He's so concerned; he really loves that dog doesn't he."  I almost burst into tears.  God, I love that man.  The past few weeks he'd been very stoic and exacting.  Ha - the truth revealed.

Then the time came to put him in the crate and close the door - a first.  I held my breath. He went right in.  Then the time came to take him through TSA.  The crate had been sealed shut with plastic stays but they made Russell cut it open again to ensure it was free of explosives.  I'm surprised they didn't give Ranger a body cavity search, or Russell, for that matter.  Russell was pissed.  He had to take Ranger out again and get him back in again and reseal the whole thing.  The second time wasn't as easy.  Ranger didn't want any part of it. Finally Russell had to pick him up and shove him in.  Then the Wonder Dog was rolled off into the underbelly of the airport.

If I could have I would have flown in cargo with Ranger.  Heck I napped in the crate to show Ranger how it's done.   I could do it.  It was excruciating not knowing if he was OK.  But he was great.  He didn't bark, or growl.  He didn't even bite.

But I did.  The flight was long, especially when you're sitting next to the commode.  It really pisses me off (pun intended) when you pay over $4,000 for a business class seat only to be seated next to a lavatory that reeks of urine.  When I asked the flight attendant if it was going to smell like that the entire time she acted like she couldn't understand what I was saying.   The next minute she was offering the NY Times and USA Today, orange juice or champagne in perfect English.  Uh Huh.

Turns out she was the head flight attendant in our section.  She ended up serving us, probably because my growling.  Needless to say my wine glass was always full.  Hey, it was medicinal.  But even the heavy doses weren't calming me.

In spite of the stench, JAL was great about Ranger.  At the gate they insisted we sit in the priority waiting section and the manager personally checked below to see that Ranger had been loaded on the plane and came and told us herself.  Ranger was the only animal on the flight.  Well, besides the German guys sitting behind us. When we landed several flight attendants waited for us to get through customs so they could tell us Ranger had made it safely, had in fact already been unloaded, and we could pick him up at the animal quarantine desk after we retrieved our luggage.  How nice is that?

When I finally saw him, sitting lopsided in his crate, wearily leaning against its side, he looked tired and his eyes drooped as if he were drugged.  Our veterinarian and the USDA do not recommend drugging an animal during flight, especially a twelve hour one.  We agreed.   The number one cause of death in dogs during air travel is sedation.  He was not sedated.  I was.  He didn't bark.  Not even in the hour and a half taxi cab ride, or in quarantine.  All my worrying that he would be rejected at the airport and have to spend days, maybe weeks, or worst of all -  be sent back to America, was thankfully unwarranted.   It only took thirty minutes to get him out of quarantine.  The biggest challenge Russell had was getting Ranger back into the crate after he took him out to read his microchip.

And then we were finally home.  We were all exhausted.  I tried to take him for a quick walk so he could relieve himself.  He didn't.  In fact he didn't pee or defecate the fourteen hours in the crate either.  He'd been holding it for more than fifteen hours.   He didn't drink any water either.  A few minutes later Russell took him for a walk.  He went.

The next day I took him on a tour of the neighborhood. I could practically hear him sniffing his way through the environs.   "Hmmmm, interesting, interesting, very interesting, WTF is that!"  The first couple of days he wouldn't eat his food, unless offered a treat (of course - hypocrite).  He wouldn't leave my side.  He wouldn't go into the backyard unless I accompanied him.

At first I took him on a different route every day trying to acclimate him to the neighborhood.  But he didn't seem to be getting any less apprehensive.  Last week he tried to sample the local fare - an apologetic Japanese man who had the audacity to ask if he could touch my dog.  "Please to touch your dog?"  I tried to tell him no, the dog is not friendly, but unfortunately he didn't understand and kept approaching.  Ranger lunged at him and snarled, which sent the poor guy into a frenzy of bows as he tried to back up frantically while muttering what I think must have been apologies.  I wanted to run after him.  I should be the one to apologize for Ranger's bad manners.  I felt bad.  

So now I take Ranger on the same route so he can familiarize himself with the smells and way.  We basically circle the large park near our home.  There are lots of parks in Tokyo but many of them don't allow dogs.  He's still very anxious but doing better than I thought he would.  In L.A. we would take him to Marine Stadium near our house which has a large open green space and throw the ball for him to fetch.  As long as the ball was in play Ranger wouldn't pay attention to anything else.  Well, except for little white fluffy (aka punt kick) dogs.  For some reason he hates them (that's funny so do I)  and did try to attack one once.  It was rather comic really, the owner literally twirled the dog in the air, like a tetherball, to get it away from Ranger-it-looks-like-a-snack-can-I-eat it?

In LA people would walk by and he would pay them no mind but they were ten yards away. In Tokyo the propinquity is intense.  People are walking right next to you.  I find if I walk him fast enough he can't fixate on any perceived threat.  He has literally walked within inches of people in Tokyo.  My California neighbors would never believe this.  He's reformed!  Don't count on it.

There is an open field (unbelievable) near our apartment.  On the weekends Russell and Ranger jump the four feet retaining wall, Ok, Ranger jumps Russell labors up it, and Russell throws the ball for Ranger.  Strangers wall by and eye them suspiciously.  It's just a matter of time before they build something or we get busted.  I'm not sure what getting busted means but I'm anxious.

Ranger is clearly starting to feel comfortable at home now because he's getting bossy.  When he thinks I've spent too much time on the computer he paws at me.  When this doesn't work he starts barking at me.  Hey, I'm the boss here!!! I think.

The dog bed I bought for Ranger's new home finally arrived two weeks after we did.  The bed only cost me $617.00.  Actually the bed cost $165.00 plus shipping to Tokyo.   $600.00 was a steal compared to the $1,079 UPS or Mail Boxes etc, was going to charge me.   It was too large for JAL; they only accept 62 linear inches.  You see it's larger than 90 linear inches.  The United States Postal Service wouldn't even delivery it.  Oh yeah, I know all about this crap now.  Height plus width plus depth equals linear inches.  After exhaustive investigation we went with  Nippon Express.  They offered door to door service which was actually quite convenient.  So if you ever need to get something large to Tokyo, try them first.

Next challenge, finding a bag of dog food larger than 5 lbs.    At Tokyo Hands, the Target equivalent, they can order it for about $200.00.  And I thought people food was expensive in Tokyo.  Ret-row.


Is it safe to come out now?

My blog partner. 

This is his water bowl.  That's his name, "Ranger" in Japanese
Thank you Kristen.

The bed(s) we brought with us.

The $600 bed.
Thank god he likes it.

The remains of his first toy in Tokyo.  It was a fighting Tiger with boxing gloves.
I think Ranger won this round.

Various toys strewn across the floor, a veritable cornucopia of fun.
Hey wait, that's a slipper, not a toy.  Bad boy!

Aren't you done blogging yet?


Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Will You Be My Tokyo Valentine?

Valentine's Day in Tokyo is a two parter.

Apparently, and I found this out after Valentine's day, in Tokyo the women are supposed to give the men gifts, usually chocolate, on Valentine's Day.  Then a few weeks later the men reciprocate with gifts on White Day which is March 14th.  I think I'm going to make out twice this year!

Thankfully Russell didn't get any chocolates this year.  I breathed a sigh of relief after reading this excerpt from about.com while researching White Day.

Don't get too excited when you get chocolates from Japanese girls! They might be "Giri-choko" (obligation chocolate).  A true love chocolate is called a "Honmei-choko."  "Giri-choko" is given to men such as bosses, colleagues or male friends women have no romantic interest in,  just for friendship or gratitude.  The concept of "giri" is very Japanese.  It is a mutual obligation the Japanese follow when dealing with other people.  If someone does you a favor, then you feel obligated to do something for that person.

Russell and I have our own way of celebrating Valentine's Day.  It's also a two-parter.  In America VD is one big marketing smack down.  Restaurants are over-crowed and tragically over-priced. You get shitty service and crappy food. Men are forced to send ostentatious bouquets of roses to their sweethearts (not like that's a bad thing).  So we stay at home on VD and have our own celebration.  It's the same every year: caviar, steamed lobster, baked potato and chocolate cake and a bottle of champagne, maybe a couple of strawberries to wash it all down.  Then when the VD fervor has succumbed we go to a nice restaurant and have a proper romantic meal.

This year we did it in reverse as it was more difficult to get the provisions we needed in Tokyo and since it was our first Saturday back in Japan with Ranger -the-wonder-dog.

Russell took me to this outrageously good restaurant called Les Creations de NARISAWA the Saturday before VD.   He told me to go to the site to get an idea of what we might encounter.

The web site literally says, and I quote:

"Guests should fall under the spell of the season.  They should not only be eating the meal, they should absorb life itself."

"Absorb life itself?!" W-h-a-t? A little deep.  I mean, we're just having dinner right, not joining a cult.

See for yourself.

http://www.narisawa-yoshihiro.com/en/philosophy.html

Well even the website did not prepare me for the overwhelming experience we had there.  I confess at the end of the meal I did say I think it's better than French Laundry, which as everyone knows, is the best restaurant in the United States.

The restaurant was very modern, if not a bit austere.
This was our placemat.
No, Russell, it won't fit in my purse.

Ok, I know this looks like one of those things you use to scent a room.  It's actually yeast.  It's being heated by a candle to the right temperature so that the dough you see coming out of the cup will rise.  The piece of paper next to it is their version of a menu which basically informs you of the theme of evening and what the main ingredient of each course is but not a description.  So this yeast will become, "Bread of the forest" and the first course was entitled "Radish", that's it, just "Radish". 


After the yeast rose to the appropriate height, the waiter (one of five), put it into a hot stone bowl.  The bowl was covered with a wood lid and the bread literally baked at our table.  The finished product is that brown hunk of goodness on the wood plank.  It's accompanied by a bottle of Karl Lawrence, a jammy makes-you-want-to-dance-naked cabernet we brought from home.  So far we've found that Japanese restaurants don't really want you to bring your own bottles.  But with a little coaxing and a humble offer to pay a corkage fee we've been able to pull it off.

Plus we always buy a couple of other glasses.  These were two french wines, a sauvignon blanc and a chardonnay.  Both excellent.  Frankly, there was no need for us to bring a bottle. The wine list here was masterfully executed to punctuate each course.  The whole meal was like your favorite book, so tantalizing, you can't wait to get to the next chapter.

The first chapter was this radish.  Now, I don't usually like radishes but this was outstanding.  It has some kind of spice on it which was supposed to emulate dirt.  Well, it didn't taste like dirt but a gift from the earth.  Oh, oh; I'm starting to sound converted.

These are giant oysters wrapped in charred leeks.
Sounds odd but it was truly inspiring.


Don't be fooled -  this is edible.
A salad too gorgeous to eat but I forced myself.


The salad was dressed with a special olive oil -
made from the first olive trees grown in Japan,
and he poured it from these beakers.


This is fois gras - my all time favorite dish,
artfully prepared with mico greens and strawberry, yes strawberry.

This is beef - creamy, dreamy beef.  
My mouth is watering remembering the perfection.

Believe it or not - this is butter.

It was designed to look like a flower pot.  Indeed it is a flower pot, filled with house-made butter, covered with dirt (which is made out of black olives) and those are literally little baby plant sprouts. The "dirt"was so mild you could barely taste it - the butter itself was rich and creamy and I could eat it with a spoon.  In fact I did.


Langoustine in a broth so rich you want to cry.

This the fish of the day, as if anything here could be so mundane.  
And those artful designs on the plate were so rich and flavorful.
I loved the foam.

Salt.


This course was truly outrageous.
He's making an "ash" to go with this....

sauteed squid.



When he put the ash on the squid it looked like it was smoking and it was.  This was called "Ash 2009 Wind of Basque."  The best part of it was not the cirque du soleil serving performance but the taste.
It was awesome.  I was truly absorbing life, or at least inhaling it.


And this was the first part of dessert.  An insanely rich chocolate served with breathtakingly aromatic pears served on the bed of the forrest.  After this they brought around a cart.  But it wasn't a cheese cart.  It was a....wait for it......... truffle cart.  It had literally dozens of different truffles and tiny tarts.  It was heaven on wheels.  I don't know why I didn't get a picture of it; probably had both hands full.

Part 2

Valentine's Day at home.....


Not quite the same table dressing as Les Creations, but not bad for a Monday.

We didn't pack any lobster tools so I had to improvise.
These worked just fine.

So did the strawberries and Schramsburg.


Mood lighting and those are the flowers Russell
had delivered to the restaurant on Saturday night.
I keep him for a little while longer.

Ranger with his own "Honmei-choko."