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.


Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Back to Novel

I'm enjoying being back in Tokyo again, especially the little novelties you stumble across just by being here.

Like this ad Russell and I saw in the subway encouraging metro riders to slow down.  You can't help but smile at the mop dog, which by the way, I have never seen this breed in Tokyo.



Or this ad, also on the subway.  I don't know what this means but apparently the kitty goes up and the kitty goes down.  Bad kittty.

Invest in yarn?

I love going to the drug store.  There are so many mystery products.  I loved the packaging and the intense fragrance of these products so much (even though I don't need it) I had to buy one.
These products are from baviphat - a Korean cosmetics company.  I find it interesting the packaging
is in English as well as Japanese.


These are body balms.  They smell intense and 
have the consistency of yogurt, not the Greek kind.
I like that they have two kinds of grape: green and purple.  
They smelled just like them too.
One was definitely Thompson the other Concord.  Hey Coolaid!!

I bought the peach lip balm, pictured here on the right.
Every time you apply it, it's like biting into a luscious peach in deep Summer.

It's nice to know you can buy a Chevy off road vehicle in Japan.

This will fit into any parking space in Tokyo.

And that the garbage men have a sense of humor....


Yes, that's Stitch, Santa Claus and an unidentified bear dangling from the trash truck.
Apparently they accept Visa and Mastercard as well, which is nice.


Eating is always an adventure in Tokyo.

Russell and I ate at a new Yakitori place which recently opened in our neighborhood.  They had the usual suspects, pretty much any part of the chicken (liver, heart, wing, breast, feet)  or pig (tongue, stomach, cheek), grilled on a stick.    Each item was between 150-300 yen ($1.80 - $4.20) with the exception of the daily special which was twice as much and described only in Japanese so we had to ask.  It was 750 yen ($9.00) and it was horseflesh. NOOOOO Thank you!

But Russell did go for the other special which was described as "baked potato with squid guts" for just 350 yen.  Guts!!!  Nice.  It was pretty good.  The squid was slimy and salty so it added a lot of flavor, and texture, to the tater.

Check out this menu description.  This was from another restaurant. 

Yes, we enjoyed the "rid" roast (safely produced)  "fully"


And then there's the candy.  I think I mentioned in a previous post that the Japanese have very discerning palates, unlike Americans who will eat anything as long as it's a huge portion.  The Japanese crave variety.  I've been told there are 15 kinds of Kit Kat.  Ever since I heard this I've been looking for them.  I have not counted fifteen, but the thing is, they release new flavors seasonally, like Sakura, which is cherry blossom.  This week I found blueberry, mini, no less.


It's nice to know you can dry your bra correctly now.  

I wonder if they carry this in my cup size?

I know I've posted this photo before but I just couldn't leave it behind...

Pun intended

Ranger really enjoys "Wild Health" which is Coke Zero's advertising campaign in Tokyo.  

For some reason Russell likes this too. 
Clearly targeted to men and dogs.
Is there a difference?


Why, here's Ranger enjoying a Coke Zero now...

Can a brother get a treat to go with my Coke Zero?




















Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Hey, I Can Sing!

Can I just say that Karaoke is a blast!!!!  Saturday night, our first Saturday back in Tokyo, we went to our favorite Shabu Shabu place, Shabu Zen in Roppongi,  and then to Karaoke.   I had never done real karaoke before.   Living room karaoke doesn't count.  But since I suspect one of these days I'm going to be taken to a karaoke club, coerced to drink and then forced to sing, I wanted to see what the deal was all about so I can be semi-prepared for the public humiliation.  Russell has done it several times with both Korean and Japanese clients.  He already has a couple of signature songs.   I convinced him we should rent a private suite so we could humiliate ourselves in private.  We rented a private room at Shidax in Roponggi.  It's open till 5am.  I didn't think we would need that long so we just reserved the two hour humility package.

There was a wedding reception or post wedding reception going on in a large room on the ground floor.
I only know this because a wedding party guest, in a tuxedo no less,  came out and said something to me I could not understand and gestured for me to follow him, while I waited for Russell to reserve our room with the front desk.  I wish I knew what the guy said cause he was really cute.

The room we were given was really small and really high tech.   It had a black leather couch, a flat screen TV, several intimidating speakers dangling above us, a smoked glass coffee table and a great view of the main dori (street).     It's supposed to be for a party of six.   Six!  Translation - two fat Americans.  Only one of us could stand up and sing at a time.  The guy who brought us our drinks (Suntory and soda, hey while in Rome) had to show us how to use the machine.  It was pretty cool.  There were two handheld terminals, kind of like bible sized iPads.  You used an electronic stylus to navigate through the on-screen menus to the song of your choice.  You could search by song or artist.  Once you found the tune you wanted you tapped "reserve" and it scheduled the song in a cue.  Sort of like a high-tech juke box but without the quarters.

Game on!!!

My first song was rough - White Rabbit by Jefferson Airplane.  You're thinking WTF?  If you must know, the reason I sang this is because I can't get that song out of my mind since I saw the movie "Sucker Punch" (which is awesome BTW - a visual feast played out in a buffet of metaphors).  The sound track is so great I bought it.  They didn't have the Emiliana Torrini version on the Karaoke menu, unfortunately, so I had to sing it "old school" a la Grace Slick.   It was way too fast (apparently this karaoke joint wants you to hurry up so the next person can have their turn) and I didn't know how to use the mic.  Half the song rolled by before I figured out where I was.

Russell went next.  He sang one of his standbys, "Country Road" by John Denver.  Oh my God!! I could not stop laughing.  He was hilarious.  I thought he was trying to be funny.  He wasn't.  Karaoke rule #1 - no laughing at people.  But why.........it's soooo funny!!!!  We were only into the first song and I was having a great time.  I didn't even need more drinks.

I thought I better get serious and sing something I really know.  So, being a woman, and a beginner, I went directly to my girls: Kelly Clarkson, Mariah Carey, Jewel, and Christina Aguilera.   Rule #2 - don't sing depressing or slow ballads.  They bring everyone down, even in a party of two, even if you sing them really well.  I was better than I thought I would be.  Maybe it has something to do with the echo machine.  It makes everyone sound good.

It took me a few songs to get the hang of it.  But after the third or forth song I was there!  Rule #3 - sing a few paces ahead of the words on the screen and do it your way.  Improvise, cause you're never going to sing it as good as the original artist.

I think I came into my own when I found the ABBA medley.  Or was it Def Leppard?  "Do you take sugar!!!!!! One lump or two!"  This is when I discovered it's easier to sing standing up - Rule #4.  Standing allows more oxygen to get into your diaphragm.   Oh yeah, duh.

From then on I owned the mike.   I was all over it.  I was reserving tunes left and right.  Rule #5 - don't hog the mic.  Rule #6 - don't sing over the person who has the mic unless you're invited to.  Rule #7 - don't sing a song someone else just sang even though you know you can sing it better.

When Russell finally wrestled the mic away from me, he rolled into his all time go to song:  "New, York, New York."  I have to say, what he lacks in tone, he makes up in bravado.  He was awesome!  The facial expressions, the body movement, the props, the gestures!  Can I have his autograph!

Rule #8 - order more drinks.  Everyone sounds better when they're drunk.  And, as an added bonus,  they get better looking too.  I get far more attractive and funny when I'm drunk.  Intelligent too.

At this point I was feeling really brave.  I decided to try U2's "It's A Beautiful Day."  Rule #9 - no one can sing U2 well, except U2.  Apparently it's a known fact amongst professional karaoke enthusiasts.  But I had to learn the hard way.

I went back to my first attempt and sang "White Rabbit" again - Dawn style.  Russell was really impressed.  At least that's what he said.  I thought, yep, it's time.  Time for Patsy, as in Cline.  You know what I'm talking about - "Crazy".  "Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely."

WHAT?!!!!! No Patsy Cline - time to go.

We were both losing our voices anyway.   It happens when you sing for two hours straight apparently.
Rule #10 - save your voice because it's pretty easy to lose.  Think what happens after an Ozzy Ozborne concert.  That's right - no voice the next day and you can't find your underwear.  Oh, maybe that's just me.

Tuesday, May 17, 2011

Back In Tokyo Again - I Get Schooled

Russell and I came back to Tokyo on Sunday, the day after Mother's Day.
Driving into Tokyo in the cab, the only clue anything catastrophic had
happened here,  was the lack of lights.  The utter dimness, as it were.

Tokyo  is  usually amazingly vibrant at night.  Drab buildings during the
day metamorphose into dazzling spires at night.  The view of Tokyo
from the Rainbow bridge is usually awe inspiring.  The bridge is a
lighted gateway, like the tunnel of love at a carnival or the entry to
the Texas State Fair.  Beneath the bridge brightly lit flat boats twinkle
merrily in ferris wheel colors.  These are just an introduction to the amazing
light show of Tokyo - neon sky scrappers and digital billboards everywhere.

This time the bridge wasn't lit, except for those necessary for the
motorway, there were no boats, and only the most essential lights
in the buildings were on. What happened to all the neon?!  It was
like Disneyland had been turned off.

Thankfully the flight was uneventful.  Ranger wasn't quite as good as he
was last time while waiting to board.  He did lunge at a couple of people
who tried to pet him.  But there weren't any injuries....to others, which is
good.  Even before we made it to our apartment he recognized the
neighborhood. He ran directly to our apartment.  After a quick inspection
of each room, he immediately found one of his fleece beds and started
humping it.  That's my boy!!!

It was like we never left, literally.  It rained the first four days.  It was
dreary.  The jet lag didn't help.  I really need to find a way to overcome
this darkness because it's amazing how much my mood is tied to the
weather.  I guess that's what happens when you grow up in sun
drenched Southern California.  It seems to rain here 45% of the time and
be overcast the rest of the time.  Sunny days are like a holiday.

But then one of my neighbors invited me over to her apartment for lunch
out of the blue.  She was having a few of her Japanese friends over and
wanted to introduce me.  My neighbor is a trailing wife with no kids -
a TWNK like me.  Hey, I just made that up - I like it.

Lunch was in less than an hour.  I hadn't showered. I immediately went
into panic mode.  What would I wear?!!!  I had no make up on.
I was so unprepared!  I was wearing jeans and a peasant blouse.   I
needed to dress demurely for  Japanese women.  This is hard for me
to do because it seems no matter what I wear, my chest sticks out like
a banner for lasciviousness.   I'm not kidding.   A turtleneck looks
obscene on me compared to the girlish modesty of Japanese women.

Ultimately I worried myself out of time and decided to follow my
hostess's lead.  She was wearing jean capris and a t-shirt.  So I put on
some mascara and a zip up hoodie to cover the breast baring peasant
shirt and headed next door with a bottle of chardonay.  Hopefully they
drink during the day; doesn't everybody?

The experience was very enlightening.  We made pretzels of all things.
They were great.  That was the best part of the lunch.

Sometimes I wish I weren't so intuitive.  The Japanese meliority thing
is really oppressive.  I seriously don't fit in with my vivacious personality
and natural exuberance.  Or maybe they don't prefer blonds.

One of the Japanese women is a radio newscaster and a part time chef who
teaches classes on Japanese and French cooking.  She studied at the
Cordon Bleu school in Tokyo.  Very impressive.  Course it would have
been more impressive if she stopped reminding me and suggesting I
take her cooking classes and not in a friendly, inviting way.

She made a point of telling us she brought a "hand made" cake for dessert.
When I asked her if "hand made" was the same as "home made" she
practically sneered at me.  I must have offended her by asking.  I tried to
explain that in the U.S. "home made" means you made it at home; as opposed
to buying it at a store, so I assume "hand made" means the same  One of the
other Japanese women who teaches Japanese to English people, said, "Don't
American women make cakes from boxes?   Does that mean home made?"
Was she truly asking or making a statement?  I said, depends on the
woman and smiled.

The Japanese teacher kept trying to sell me on her services.  She couldn't find
her business card fast enough.  Although it was pretty amazing watching her
ask my hostess questions in Japanese and then hearing my hostess answer in
English. I may have to give her a call.

The third Japanese women was from Kamakura, a local beach town.  She's a
friend of  the Japanese teacher.  She studied at Stanford.  She is the first person
I've met who didn't tell me she was from Stanford within the first five minutes
of knowing her.  Most people from Stanford find a way to get this in.  Hi" my
name's Dawn; I went to Stanford."   Is this like warning: threat of intelligence
pending.  Be warned.  I actually had to ask where she went to school.

She brought the most amazing vegetables from Kamakura.  Sounds odd but
the baby carrots, pristine turnips and lettuce were like art - so lush , so
colorful and fresh.  You didn't even need salad dressing, they were
so amazing.  Apparently there's a farmer's market in Kamakura chefs from
Tokyo frequent daily for their superior produce.  I didn't see the farmer's
market when I was there - just a giant buddha.

Anyway, I was the only one who asked questions, otherwise it was silent
or the Japanese women conversed in Japanese.  I kind of thought it was
rude.  Ok, not kind of.  I thought it was really rude.  They spoke in Japanese
most of the time even though they knew I don't speak any.  Russell
suggested they didn't speak English very well.  Um, one teaches Japanese
to English people and the other, the newscaster, spoke English better than
her.  Perhaps this is a taste of our own medicine.  Americans are always
indignant when foreigners come to the U.S. and don't speak the language.
Hmmmmm.  Perhaps I was the one being rude?

Mostly I asked my hostess questions about her.  She was engaging.  She's
from Philadelphia.  She has three cats.  She's lived in Geneva, Stutgart,
Colorado, Washington D.C., New Hampshire, Tokyo and Sicily.  Oh, and
the South Pole.  What!?  She met her husband, who was a doctor in the Navy
at the time, at a science facility in the South Pole.  He was the doctor
stationed there and she had several positions including research assistant,
search and rescue technician and even, cook.  Facinating.

Lunch consisted of a salad made from the amazing vegetables, grilled
sausages and pasta with arugula pesto.  This was followed by the
home-made pretzels we all helped to make.  It was intriguing to watch
the chef/newscaster correct our efforts to roll out the pretzel dough,
(maybe her superiority wasn't just about me).  I marveled at how calm
our hostess was while cooking under her scrutiny.  They had an amusing
exchange on the proper way to frost cupcakes.

My neighbor has four groups of friends she's cultivated while in Tokyo,
most of them are Japanese.  Quite a departure from the other xpats I've
met who just seem to hang out with other xpats.  She teaches a form of
exercise I've never heard of which is a combination of Yoga, Tai Chi,
and meditation.  This form of exercise is supposed to strengthen your
inner muscles, not your outer muscles, thereby making your entire body
and your mind stronger.  And apparently it solves world peace.

She had us get up after our lunch and do four of these exercises.  It was
very surreal standing there with the three Japanese women, making sure
my cleavage doesn't pop out, while performing these exercises, which
are more or less stretches.  If I wasn't so self-conscious, they actually
would have felt good.

I was very flattered to be included and went home with some of the left
over vegetables, pretzels and cakes.  But when I got home I felt oddly
misplaced and sort of depressed.  I concluded it was due to the lack of
connection and energy.  Usually I feel energized when I spend time with
people.   But since they never really engaged with me, just superficially
or tried to sell me, and the energy was so low compared to my natural
cadence, it sort of fell flat.

But I liked my hostess, a lot.  Plus she makes great pretzels.




Saturday, May 14, 2011

Forgive me for I have sinned; it's been three weeks since my last post

Hey, I was busy!!!  I had to get Ranger USDA approved - again.  Last time the government charged me over $200 for the blessed official stamps.  This time it was just $36.  What up with that?  Not that I want to pay more.  No, please let me pay more.

I had to meet with the Easter Bunny.  I wasn't sure he even covered Tokyo and as it turns out he doesn't.
So I had to fill in for him.  I pulled together the good stuff, not that cheap crap you get in the pre-made baskets at Ralphs.  See's Bordeux egg with chocolate sprinkles, a custom selected box of Russell preferred See's candies, Reeses peanut butter cups, Hershey's AND Cadbury cream eggs, on a bed of cellophane grass, you gotta have the grass.  I put these in a special Easter box called "Priority Mail - if it fits; it ships" (even internationally).  So yes, you too can put $25 worth of chocolate in this special box and ship it to Tokyo for $45.

I tell ya, no good deed goes unpunished, because after it was all said and done it actually cost me $110.  $25 for the chocolate, $35 for a non-priority mail box and $50 for the parking ticket I got because the meter ran out when I was transferring stuff from the Priority Mail box to the plain box.  Note to interested parties "if it fits it may not be cheaper."  The weight is really the important factor.  Isn't it always?  And then it didn't arrive in the five to six days they said it would so Russell could enjoy it along with the digital easter egg hunt I planned for him.

Every year on Easter Sunday I do a little egg hunt for Russell.  When he wakes up there's a plastic egg beside his bed.  In it is a clue to where the next egg can be found. If he's successful in answering the clues they will lead him to his Easter basket.  (If not, I get it - just kidding - kind of.) But this year, since he would be in Tokyo and I would still be in Los Angeles, I planned a digital easter egg hunt.  Eleven email "eggs" provided clues to ten websites or answers procured through websites.  If he solved all the clues then the last email instructed him to eat his eggs, i.e., chocolate eggs.  But sadly the Easter box didn't arrive until the day he was leaving to join me back in California, four days after Easter.  Sigh.  I guess that just means I have to help him eat it when I return.

And then we went on vacation to Cabo San Lucas, Mexico.  Yes, we only travel to countries with travel advisories.  We're thinking of going to Syria next.  Can't beat the travel deals!

We stayed at Esperanza.  It was awesome!  It's an Auberge property.  Think Calistoga Ranch but Mexican.  I love their house made Baja lime bath products.  It's like a margarita every time you put it on.
Just don't get pulled over.

We've only been to Cabo one other time six years ago (party cruise ships don't count).  We stayed at Esperanza that time too.  It was as good as I remember.  Ironically it was warmer in L.A. than it was in Cabo the five days we were there.  But it was hot enough for us to make sure we kept hydrated by drinking margaritas by the pool all day.   That is when we weren't luxuriating in the free drink samples they kept passing around.  I love that!  Speaking of pools... They've added two more pools and a lot of iguana since we were there last. Yes, iguana, not to be confused with lizards.  We made a game out of spotting iguana.  Whoever spotted the largest iguana or multiple iguana was the winner.  Usually the big ones could be found sunning themselves, fat and bloated on a big rock, pumping themselves up and down to attract a female or ward off other males.   Generally if you spotted a big boy, Mrs. Iguana or Mrs. Iguana wanna be was somewhere nearby.  Can we get a little iguana love?

Speaking of Mrs wanna bees, they added that since the last time we were there as well.  We observed that the larger the male's gut was, the bigger the wanna bees breasts were, or similarly the older and richer the man, the younger and taunter the female.  Well except for me, of course.   I told Russell I wanted to bring along a stunningly hot and much younger man to the pool with me.  I'm sure the concierge could arrange one.  He'd have to put on a show.  You know, rub sun tan lotion all over me, often, carry me around in the pool, bring me frosty beverages.  Hello, cabana boy?!!! This would only be in protest, not like it would be any fun for me at all.  I'm all about the cause.  Russell didn't quite see it that way.

While we were there Obama decided to assassinate Osama.  The texts started pouring in. We actually turned on the news and discovered the whole world was under travel advisory.  I asked Russell how the al-Qaeda feel about Mexicans.  We determined we were probably safer in Mexico than the U.S. and proceeded to celebrate with another margarita.

Each night the resort had a theme.  Since we live in Japan, we decided to skip Asian night (no joke).  Instead we took a taxi to "Palmilla the One and Only" to have dinner at "Agua."  Kind of an ironic name considering you're not supposed to drink the water (agua) in Mexico.  The resort was like Disneyland at night.   It reminded me of the Alice and Wonderland ride, well, except for the flaming driveway and bats.  The resort is covered by a verdant canopy of trees and exotic flowers.  All the trees and bushes were lit up with diaphanous lanterns and accentuated by glowing water ways.  It was magical.  It made you feel like bursting into song  - just like a Disney musical.  I was ready to kiss a frog.

We sang our way to the restaurant which by the way, has a copious selection of waters, hence the name - the joke's on us.  We decided to start with SMART water.  I feel so much smarter now, although I still can't spell.   Dinner was lovely although the wine list was tragically over-priced.  We sat under the stars, looking out onto the bay which sparkles with the reflection of twinkling lights from old Cabo.  This perfection was only marred by the strange sounds of the new age musician.  It started with a fog machine and a conch shell.  It ended with a whistle and guttural screams.  The propaganda piece on our table described it as haunting, almost tribal.  Ok, is this supposed to make me hungry (I'm thinking cannibalism) or just drink more?

The next night was Cinco de Mayo which we came to realize is really an American holiday.  Apparently we're the only ones who actually celebrate it, except for the town of Puebla.  We think Cinco de Mayo is  Mexico Independence Day when actually it's a celebration of how 4,000 Mexicans, aided by the U.S., defeated 8,000 French at the battle of Puebla.   So it's really us celebrating us, as usual.

http://www.vivacincodemayo.org/history.htm

Mexico's actual independence day is September 16th.  The resort, recognizing who fuels their tourism trade, held a celebration, complete with a Mexican buffet and fireworks.  The fireworks lasted a grand total of two whole minutes and that's rounding up.  Just as we were settling down to prime viewing location...it was over. It happened so quick we thought we missed it.  We celebrated with another margarita and a churro.

And then, all too soon, we had gained the requisite seven pounds (even though I ran on the treadmill almost every day) and the vacation was over.  We flew back to L.A., checked out of the Oakwood, checked PLB, (Pretty Little Bitch otherwise know as the Porsche) into the store-a-ford-clinic, and got on a plane with Ranger the Wonderdog, to Tokyo.  We're back.