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.


Saturday, November 5, 2011

Masks Optional

I did it!  I managed to make it through Halloween without a category five hangover!   Of course I drank, but somehow, someway, this time I didn't over indulge and I could actually get out of bed the next day.  You may recall last year, I stayed in bed for the majority of the day and then had to fly to L.A. the next morning.  It was like that tragic scene from the movie Top Gun when the jet is going down and Goose is yelling, "this is not good, this is not good."  But this time I was good. Hurray!!

After spending all afternoon in the unique shops of Harajuku, we finally managed to assemble something close to a costume.  Russell was the Phantom of the Opera.  I was a goth schoolgirl.  Quaint isn't it?  After dinner we descended on Roppongi.  Halloween was already in full swing.  We started at Bar Mania, the scene of last year's tomfoolery, then stationed ourselves on the street and watched the shenanigans walk by.

Wow! I can't believe I'm not wasted!
And my hair looks fabulous.

These are famous anime characters.
Apparently anime characters drink beer.

These are both men. In case you were fantasizing.

Found him!

I think this was their first date

Um, can you take your shirt off so I can see if you're really Thor?

Don't ask.
Russell wanted to wear this costume but it would be too painful to take the tape off.

Mad hatter with a Costco bag

Is that a duck or are you just happy to see me
or
The black swan gets plucky

I....want to rock and roll all night!

Apparently Alice comes in different sizes, which is nice.

What I like about this costume is the guy is holding a leash

Nice six pack on that ape

We weren't the only ones taking pictures

Now that's Daffy

No comment
But what is Russell doing?

Well, hello Sailor!

Monday night was Halloween.  Russell insisted we, which translated into English means "me", buy a couple bags of candy for the melange of tricker-or-treaters he was sure would assault the building.  Bags of candy are bountiful in America.  They're huge and come in a variety of flavors.  Bags of candy in Tokyo (unless you have time to drive to Costco) are scarce and meager.  But I did spot this package of strawberry shake Milky Way.  That's different.  I bought a bag of Kit Kat dark instead. The bag consisted of about twenty, teenie-tiny, individually wrapped bars of Kit Kat dark chocolate, two miniature, and I mean miniature, bars in each teensie-weensie package.  Geez, I could eat the whole bag in one sitting and it still wouldn't equate to one Hershey bar.


I threw in the two bags of Jolly Rancher candies Russell had brought home recently on a trip from L.A.  Why Jolly Rancher - I have no idea - he knows I prefer See's candies.  Although I do like the watermelon flavor.  

In California we have a tradition on Halloween. Besides our epic Halloween party, we sit outside on our driveway with all our neighbors and swap glasses of wine and stories, and oh yeah, when a kid happens by we give them candy.  But this year, I sat on the steps of the Homat, by myself, and coaxed passing kids to come and grab a piece of candy.  It was kind of sad and lonely.  I actually felt homesick.

But I had the candy so I had to disperse it.  There weren't a lot of kids but it was interesting to witness their reaction to the candy.  The Kit Kats were the first to go, chocolate always does.  The American kids saw the Jolly Ranchers and were over-joyed.  "Jolly Rancher! Cool!" The non-American kids eyed them suspiciously and asked what they were.  It helped when I offered the flavors up with the colors they were fingering hesitantly.  "Cherry - yum, green apple - mmm, no don't take that one, that's watermelon - it's the best."

There were the usual suspects costume-wise: hey it's a princess, how adorable.  Hey it's spiderman, hey, it's another spiderman, oh yeah,  yawn, it's spiderman.  Geez didn't these kids see the Green Lantern yet?  But there were a couple of standouts.  My favorite were the two Japanese girls dressed up like garden gnomes.  


Passing out candy to grabby, selfish ex-pat kids reminded me why I don't have kids.  The Japanese kids were so polite, tentatively approaching, meekly selecting just one piece out of the bowl, saying the only word they know in English, "Thank you" then bowing.  This in stark contrast to the group of foreign kids, not even bothering with costumes, running down the street screaming, while their parents gossiped idly nearby, each kid grabbing handfuls of candy, demanding, not asking, for more.  In the foyer of the Homat someone had generously left an entire bag of candy out for the kids, trusting them to take one and leave the rest for others.  But this group, the screaming group, took the entire bag and then had the gall to ask me if that's all there was.  This kid actually said, "Is that all there is - just candy?"  What was she expecting, wads of cash?  This while her younger brother unabashedly reached into my bowl for yet another handful of candy when I repeatedly told him just one piece.  These weren't kids, they were militant candy terrorists.  After that group I was done and retired to the sanctity of my home for a solitary glass of wine.

Russell didn't come home until 7:30p and by the time we finished dinner the bewitching hour was over.  But he still insisted we go out and try to find some trick-or-treaters.  The streets were quiet like the morning after New Year's, ominously hushed, with scraps of party shrapnel cluttering the ground.  So we found a bar instead and toasted to Halloween's of yesteryear with Japanese whiskey.



No, I don't want my picture taken

I don't know what they're supposed to be but they're cute

Yes, I'm a train

Seriously? Is this really necessary?

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