Cicadas and the peeping Tom

 

I recall my first day in these islands as if it were yesterday, but not because of the excitement of arriving in a new place to discover, to learn from, to treasure in my heart for the years to come. But because of the noisy, impolite, nerve-wracking singing of the cicadas, that woke me up at godforsaken hours.
Let me be candid and tell you that these tree-friendly bugs have annoyed me since day one. With their unstoppable singing, I thought I was going mad. Perhaps, I went crazy after all. But my mental sanity will be probably discussed in another post. 😄

I was so upset with the cicadas that my murderer’s instincts started to flourish that year.

I would stare at the trees outside my window with my sleepy eyes, ruffled hair, and sweaty face. So, one of the neighbors thought I was a peeping Tom ( a pervert who spies people while they undress)
The 85 years old gentleman who called the police on me accusing me of such crime (peeping Tom) came later to apologize for the misunderstanding. Of course, he came accompanied by his wife. Just in case. You never know, right?.

 

But times have changed, and even to my surprise, I have grown fond of the little tree-loving insects (cicadas). I don’t look forward to their endless singing, but I am happy they always make me look out of my window.

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Internet: Where are you? 😭

 

This is the worst café, I could ever have chosen, because there is no wifi here, and not only there is no internet, but my personal internet, (yes, we have personal internet here in Japan) is not working either, that’s right, I am spoiled.

Here in Japan, I take my personal internet wherever I go, I turn it on, and I am magically connected with the world. This tiny little square thingy guarantees to work wherever I am, and I can use as much as I want, and you bet I do..! But today is not working..!!

And here I am, in this underground café, where the internet signal is dead..!

Dead, I’m telling you, dead..!!

I ordered already an expresso instead of my morning cup of coffee. That will calm my nerves.

“Internet come back, please..!!” I pray

“Wait..!! The internet is back…!!” God really exists

I try to log in and nothing.

The internet is not back. It was just wishful thinking

Let me try to get signal. Maybe if I bend over 45 degrees, I could get some signal.

Oh..! I am getting a little bit of signal. But I need a stronger one (signal)

Maybe I should lift a leg, just in case you know?

No, it is not working.

Oh, I got it..!

I stand up, and I lift my right arm and left leg.

I know I like a giant “L,” but I do need internet.

But you know what? There are only a few people here, but I feel all eyes on me.

I should probably go back to my seat

Talk to you later, if I get internet signal 🙂

My multiple personalities worry about me: Have I gone mad?

 

I woke up worrying about my blog, the likes, the comments, the stats, and the growing page, in other, I was becoming obsessed, and full of myself. 

 

The narcissist part of me, Yone-narcissist, was smiling and telling me how great and smart she was.

 

I can’t stand her. I’m sure you won’t either. She needed to go..! and she needed to go fast..! The sooner she leaves, the better I would feel. 

 

We needed to find a cure. And to cure sudden sickness we need strong medicine, so I decided to spend a day without Internet.

 

First, Yone-chan, my inner child, resisted. And although I explained to her it was for our own, she burst into tears. That’s when Yone-Oni showed up. Because everytime Yone-chan is hurt Yone-oni comes to the rescue. Yone-oni is a natural protector, despite her bad temper. And I was expecting a fight with her (Yone-oni), when she started crying, as well, saying how bored she would be without the internet.

 

I tried to convince Yone-Oni promising her ice cream and having a lovely walk in a park, Some of my other personalities started smiling encouraging Yone-Oni to accept the deal, at least fourteen of them seemed to agree. 

 

Then I told them we would buy ourselves a nice book. 

 

“Another one??????” all my multiple personalities shouted all at the same time 

 

“But this will be different” I replied

 

“Different??” they asked 

 

“Yes, because this will be a book for us to enjoy. To have fun” I said.

 

That’s when my multiple personalities stared at me, all the same time, they seemed truly concerned.

 

“I’m serious” I told them defensively 

 

But they all just stared at me as if I had gone mad.

 

“Are you ok?” asked Yone-Oni with real apprehension in her eyes.

 

“I promised you, I’m fine” I said

 

“She delirious” they all said in unison.

 

Then they all rushed around the house.

 

One brought me a blanket to keep me warm, although, in Japan, September is still quite warm.

 

A group of cheeky ones decided that the best for me was to take Oji chan’s soup (I will tell you what Ojichan’s soup is in another post) then they started “cooking”

 

I don’t remember Ojichan’s soup having so many vegetables 😐 in it. But what matters it’s their good intention. I guess. 

 

Another group of my personalities decided I needed music, so they played one of my favorites melodies. 

 

Another one decided I needed a cuddle, and another personality said that what I needed was kisses on my forehead, another said it (what I was needed) was getting my hair brushed. 

 

They still fighting. So, I haven’t gotten either a cuddle, kiss or my hair brushed. 

 

 

The house was becoming a mess.

 

Groups were discussing how to calm me down just in case of a breakdown.

 

.
They were all talking, and I was about to explode, when we heard a sound in the door.

 

“It’s him” they said, and they all run to hide and to look their best

 

Even Yone Oni was putting lipstick on.

 

“What?” She asked defensively. 

 

He came through the door with such a lovely smile that even Yone-Oni melted down. 

 

“What a stunt..! We have done great” said Yone-narcissist smiling happily at me.

 

“You” I said “That’s it. You gotta go” 

 

I unplugged the internet, and it will remain this way until Yone-narcissist goes back to sleep 😊

Curvy girl: learning to love her juicy bits

Although during my teenage years I loathed my curves, I have to admit that I have grown fond of the generous flesh that surrounds my bones. Tenacious flesh that has resisted diets and exercises.

During those innocent years of my first youth, I tried every possible diet. As there were always “helpful” people, who let me know what was wrong with my body, I was very well aware of what parts of it should be covered the most as they were exceeding in size and proportion I was told. That’s why I was always up to date with the newest miracle that would promise to give me the body I was never destined to have.

In other words, I was the subject of different experiments from “well-intentioned friends,” but I have to say that once maturity finally settled down in me. And I got rid of those “friends” I found out that I was never meant to be a slim beauty, and I am more than ok with it. I am, in fact, I am happy with it.

I rejoice in my juicy bits, I really do.

And in my personal journey to self-love, I learned that I am a happy curvy girl, with a merry soul, who, every day learns to love her juicy bits all over again.

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I proudly suck at dancing

I visited a salsa club in a little corner of Roppongi, Tokyo’s party town, the black sheep of this traditional city.

I was astonished not only for the lights, but because to be absolutely honest, I haven’t been in a club in ages. My Saturdays nights are reserved for watching movies, relaxing readings, long warm baths, and shaving my mustache, just kidding, I shave it on Sunday nights, nothing better to fight the Monday blues than a smooth face. I’m all everything for beauty.

Anyway, there we were in this salsa club, my mustache and I, taking all in.

So many lights, and so many people dancing at the same time, as if they were dancing after countless hours of rehearsal.

They all danced so beautifully that I couldn’t help but to think of a display of beautiful ceramic figures dancing to the notes of a music box. But of course, they were not ceramic figures, but talented people dancing. And the music far from a music box melody was displayed by a talented DJ, who had a taste for Cuban salsa and even more exotic beats.

All these rhythms brought back memories of my beloved Latin American, and I simply had to dance, although, I know I am not good at it, I boldly made my way onto the dance floor, where, some generous souls offered assistance.

But I must admit that they all failed miserably, one of them even returned me to my seat halfway the song due to my astonishing lack of coordination.

I can’t blame him but thanking him for freeing me from my misery.

Needless to say that I confirmed without a doubt that I suck at dancing.