Tokyo Flashback: Trick or Treat!

Halloween is definitely my all-time favorite holiday! Granted it’s really just an excuse to wear the most outrageous and/or slutty costumes pretending to be something we’re not. But isn’t that reason enough for anyone? Every Halloween I spend an inordinate amount of time in search of the perfect costume and a fabulous party to attend. And last year – my first Halloween in Tokyo – was no different. Dressed as Minnie Mouse, I along with my friends and hundreds of foreigners living in Japan, train-jacked the Yamanote line leaving from the Shinjuku station at 9:07 pm (car # 10). Apparently every Halloween crazy "geijings" (foreigners) – decked out in costumes with alcohol in hand – take over the train for a few hours. Only days before Halloween do we find out on the Internet about the time and car # for such an event.

As we walked through the busy streets of Tokyo, every Japanese we passed by giggled and some even pointed and screamed out “Minnie-chan!Kawaii!!” (translation: "Minnie Mouse! So cute!" - yea that's me - Minnie was a real hit!) And tons of fellow costumed Halloweeners requested to take pictures with us. We felt like celebrities. Since words cannot do justice the chaotic bedlam that took place on the Halloween train, check out video clips on You Tube.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SgXQb1R2IUU&mode=related&search=

My apartment

Going to the chapel and we’re…

Gonna get maaaaaried…No – not me! It was my little sister who got married at the chapel of love this past weekend. I know…what was she thinking? Just kidding. I left New York at 7 in the morning on Friday for Maryland and as soon as I arrived I was on full maid of honor mode running around like a headless chicken. After the rehearsal and dinner, my cousins Angie, Aileen, my sister and I went back to my sister’s new house for a slumber party to finish last minute tasks and stayed up until 2 am. Although we woke up at 6, we were already late for our first task of the big day – tea ceremony at my parents’ house. Unfortunately, my sister and I got pulled over for going 60 on a 35. Panic set in and almost brought my sister to tears. When we explained to the cop that it was her wedding day, he said, “Speeding bride, huh?” and asked for proof. Of course she wasn’t wearing her big white dress, but luckily she had in her purse an application for a marriage license. Nonetheless he went back to his car with her driver’s license. When he returned, he delivered more bad news to my sister that her license had been suspended. Holy shit! Could anything else go wrong? Then the cop gave a cheesy chuckle saying “Just kidding!” and let us go without even a warning. Wow he's hilarious - he should consider quitting his day job. Getting pulled over, however, was still a doozy compared to the rest of the hectic day.

During the ceremony, I listened to the entire sermon without falling asleep (though my feet were a different story) and even cried a little on the inside when they were tearing up (I’m not heartless – I’m just not the crying type.) The wedding ceremony and taking pictures in DC actually went off without a hitch, although the reception was a bit chaotic. I also drank a little too much in the limo and should definitely have not had that mojito right before my maid of honor toast. But I did OK and even managed to entertain the guests (over 400!) with embarrassing stories of my sister. As much as I wanted to get drunk and dance all night with the bride and groom and their little friends, I was overwhelmed with exhaustion as I finished my last MOH duties and was home in bed by 1 am. The next day our cousins and I (all 12 of us) met up for pho for lunch to say goodbye and to send Mark and Mayan off then we all went our separate ways home. I love family weddings for this very reason – getting together with all our cousins since we hardly ever get to all be in the same town (oh and to celebrate eternal love and commitment and all that crap.)

Moving In!

So I moved in two weekends ago (thanks to Cindy's help) and have stayed in my new apartment for over a week now. Like a new relationship, everything always appears to be perfect at the beginning. But once you’ve settled in, you start discovering little things about the place like the toilet water is constantly running or it’s such an old building that it makes a lot of little noises that you get scared to sleep alone at night now that you’re no longer in the same bed as Cindy (who makes absolutely NO noise when she sleeps as if you're sleeping next to a dead person). Or your neighbor below you practices violin at 11 at night. Or your next door neighbor makes it a point to slam the door every time he comes home – OK I get it - you’re an angry New Yorker and the whole world’s against you but do you have to take it out on your door and my ears?

Like a new relationship, you also learn to adjust to your new environment. Kinda like closing your eyes to ignore all that body hair (or throwing up when you open your eyes.) Or when he lets out a silent fart but it’s your nose that delivers the news so you have to smack him before running away to avoid the smell. Or you learn that he’s obsessed with a certain winter sport and even when you travel 3,000 miles to visit him, he’ll drop you like 5-day-old sushi for any powder day and makes you want to shove all ten pairs of his precious skis up his skinny little ass. You know, the usual…but I’m just speaking hypothetically of course.

Once I get my DSL/cable set up tomorrow, I will post pictures of my new apartment!

No Business Like Shoe Business

Whenever I live in a city where driving is not an option, I always wear comfortable shoes to hike to work (black Chucks for me and gray Nikes for Cindy) and then we change into our heels once we get in the office. I do this for two reasons: 1) not wanting to get blisters on my feet and 2) not wanting to ruin my heels.

I really feel at home because this seems to be common practice in 75% of the women here in NYC. However, Japanese women do the exact opposite. They wear their 4-inch hooker high heels/CFM boots walking all over the city but once they get to work, they change into these hideous orthopedic slippers. I really don't get it. They even wear heels while hiking or going to parks. While Japanese women often looked at me (and all my American friends who did the same) with such obvious disdain after taking a glimpse at our flip flops mismatched with our work clothes, in the end they're the ones with painful bunions - which is also why podiatry is such big business in Japan.

Home Sweet Home

I cannot believe my luck. After two full weeks of non-stop stress and unbearable stomach pains over my living situation, I finally found a place. Not just any place - but THE place. After my first apartment fell through, I continued on with my search and found another one, also on the Upper East Side. (Was I destined to be an uptown girl living in my uptown world?) But the rent was a bit steep ($2000 for a studio with no sitting area) in a neighborhood mildly exciting for geriatrics, so I wasn't completely thrilled. I accepted it because it was still better than nothing (especially better than renting out a couch in someone's living room for $500/month - yes that's a real listing.) But it didn't stop me from continuing to look on Craigslist in case something better came along - and something did. The next day I made an appointment for a 1BR, fully furnished, utilities included for $1700 on the Lower East Side (the general area I REALLY wanted.) I went, I saw, I fell in love. Not only will my commute to work be an easy 20-minutes door to door, but the trendy neighborhood is filled with bars, restaurants, and Chinese people (since Chinatown is nearby.) Oh I feel so at home.

Unfortunately the sublandlord, a strikingly stunning blonde, had a few other potentials to interview. Even though the past two landlords chose me out of all the people they screened, I didn't want to be too confident because this was the one I really wanted! She said she would get back to all the applicants with her decision the next morning.

The next morning, I was cautiously optimistic when my horoscope read, "Affairs, even those out of your hand, will go your way." But the next morning came and went. Then it was lunch. Then the clock struck 2. Then 3. Still nothing. I guess I didn't get the apartment after all. Finally at 6:30pm I got an email from her - she decided that she really wanted me to have it. I couldn't believe my eyes that I had to read it twice. I quickly called her back to set up logistics.

The funny thing is as I was anxiously waiting for her decision all day, it felt so right that I didn't even bother scouring on Craigslist for new postings. Whereas for the last two apartments that I had secured, I still looked every hour for more apartments that could be better. It’s kinda like when you’re with the wrong guy, no matter how many years you’ve been with him, you can't help but gawk at and crush on every pretty boy that comes your way. But once you find the one - the one who had you at hello, the one who gets lost in your eyes (no matter how small they are,) the one who makes your heart sing, makes everything groovy - you stop looking...Well who I am kidding? I guess I’ll never stop looking. But you do stop having crushes – except for that really hot guy in the Tokyo office last year. OK I really don’t know what I’m talking about but I am just beyond myself with my new apartment! And I get to move in this weekend.

Happy Hour

Since I haven’t worked in four months, I have forgotten how much fun happy hour was after a long day at work. For my first happy hour of the year, my new work friends and I went to this cool little bar called Exchange on Fulton St (Financial District) where Cindy’s friends were guest bartending. We wolfed down 10-cent buffalo wings and delicious waffle fries, drank beer (well, girly drinks for me), and listened to my favorite eclectic mix of pop music (50cent, Britney Spears, Run-D.M.C., A-Ha and 80's Madonna, etc. you get the idea.)

Her friends are actually lawyers but guest bartend once in a while at this bar owned by their friends. This novel ideal prompted Cindy and I to want to guest bartend too. After a grueling “interview” with the owners – which consisted of us dancing around a stripper pole - we got the job! I even went behind the bar and started practicing but got as far as pouring water for myself. I guess asking people already with drinks what else they wanted to drink was pretty useless - they ended up offering me a drink instead. Well at least I tried. Although I know nothing about bartending (don't even know what's in a cosmo) I’m a fast learner so I’m sure I’ll pick it up when it’s really our turn to guest bartend. We have yet to set a date but I’ll be sure to update you with pictures when that does happen. Hey we can be like the girls in Coyote Ugly (definitely a classic alongside Cocktails)!

Picture: These are my new work friends although this picture wasn't from the aforementioned happy hour. This was for April's birthday party at Kingsize on the Lower East Side; unfortunately the birthday girl didn't make it in the picture.

Forever Homeless

I finally found a place to live! It's a charming (which means tiny) studio, fully furnished, and has a murphy bed! How cute is that - my very first murphy bed (you know - one of those beds that fold down from the wall). Although the location is a bit more uptown and suburban than I'd like (Upper East Side on 78th & 1st), the neighborhood is very cute with tons of restaurants. And let's face it - beggars can't be choosers. Nonetheless, I can move out of Cindy's so she can finally have her privacy back.

Oh but wait...Just when I thought I was all set, my to-be landlord called on Sunday night while I was having Easter dinner with Cindy's family and said, "I'm so sorry honey but my son just came back unexpectedly and he'll need the apartment." WTF? Are you kidding me? You wait until the last minute to tell me I can't move in? Why not wait until I have all my luggage outside your door to tell me that? Needless to say, the search is back on and Craig is once again my BFF.

While complaining that all this ordeal is causing me stomach ulcers, I felt much better after dear S wrote these sweet words of encouragement: "Stop being a hypochondriac. You are Evan C! (I refuse to call you W). You always land on your two feet... w/ money in your hands! Something good will come through!" Isn't she the best?!

Office Space

Working in the public sector is very different from the private world which is the only world I've ever known. For one thing, the government building where I now work isn't exactly high-tech. And the bathrooms are horrendous - think ghetto public school bathrooms built in the 60's with occasional flooding. They don't even have a cafeteria that sells food! There's also this dumb rule that you're not allowed to eat at your desk which is a very difficult thing for me to do since I EAT ALL DAY LONG (so I've resorted to sneaking a few bites here and there when no one's looking.) Furthermore, the view is the unsightly side of another old government building. I don't mean to sound like a corporate snob, but I'm used to working in pretty buildings with skywalks, flat screens in every conference room, and cafeterias with wall-to-wall windows overlooking city skylines.

Although the environment isn't up to par, I do enjoy the company of those with whom I work. My new work friends - some of which are my age - are people I can actually hang out with outside of work. But there's this one lady sitting across from me who can't stop humming (she's a dead ringer for Phyllis from "The Office.") At first I thought I was hearing things, but when I realized it was not just my imagination, I was like, "Woman, you're NOT one of the seven dwarfs so can you stop humming while you work?" Well, I didn't actually say that because she's very nice. But I did email my new work friends and asked for their advice on how to politely shut her up. They replied, "Don't worry. She's moving to another floor really soon so just be patient. But you're not the first one to notice it." Thank god because a few more days of this constant humming I'll be sure to go postal. (BTW, did you guys hear about that accountant who started shooting people at his office? Hopefully that won't be me in the near future.)

If I see Craig again it'll be way too soon

Trying to find an apartment to sublet for 3 months is no easy feat. I've been on Craigslist 5 hours every day, checking hourly for new postings, and running all over Manhattan after work to look at apartments but have yet to find something decent. To give you non-New Yorkers an idea, average studios (300-500 SF) run for about $1300 to over $2000 depending on the neighborhood. Isn't that ridiculous? And don't be fooled by pics of Cindy's place. NOTHING in NYC looks that nice (for my budget.) You're lucky if the entire apartment is as big as her bathroom.

Well, at least I familiarized myself with all the different neighborhoods in Manhattan and was quite amused by some of the listings. One posting said, "1 BR available in a 3BR...great neighborhood...$1500/month...you'll live with brothers..." Hmmm, as in "brothas?" or like they're actually two brothers? Another posting - which I went to look at - was a gorgeous apartment in a luxury building with marble floors on Lex Ave. The catch? My to-be roommate who owns the apartment is a "mature" European woman who asked me to bring my own pots if I were to use the kitchen and absolutely no overnight guests. For $2,000 a month, no thanks Golden Girl. All the other apartments I visited just didn't quite cut it. One potential apartment would've had me sharing a bathroom with 3 guys. Yikes! WHY WHY WHY is it so difficult? All I'm asking for is something really cute yet affordable for 3 months/furnished/Internet/cable/utilities included/in a fun trendy neighborhood. Is it honestly too much to ask for?

First Day of School

Unfortunately for me, my first day of work also coincided with the Yankees opening day, which meant Cindy the season ticket holder took the day off to see them play and left me to go to work ALL BY MYSELF. Being mildly retarded in life but severely retarded with directions, I actually navigated my way to the subway station without a hitch - thanks to Cindy's detailed instructions complete with a hand-drawn map. When I got on the train, I attempted to blend in and started perusing the Metro newspaper, but how can I even pretend to read about Hilary's record-breaking campaign contributions when I was so paranoid that I got on the wrong train? After switching trains and blundering my way through, I made it to work and my very first solo ride on the subway was a success. When I got to work, I had to walk by the security guard and flash him my ID badge which I hadn't yet received. Luckily, I was told that flashing him ANYTHING quickly would do. So I tried my driver's license and it worked like a charm. Next time I will use my library card and then my metro card to see what I can get away with.

Going to work for the first time in months was actually quite refreshing. Kinda like the first day of school after a long summer break. I was even assigned my first deliverable due the following Monday. Exciting indeed...When I got home (Cindy's housing me at the moment until I find my own place), she had dinner ready - mac and cheese with a side of broccoli. Yummy and nutritious - just what every working girl needs after a long hard day at work (or long hard day at the Yankees stadium).

Welcome to the Big Apple!

Before my hour-long flight from DC to LaGuardia took off, we were experiencing some delays so the pilot announced, “If anyone would like to meet me and the co-pilot in the cockpit, feel free to come on down!” I thought to myself – are you for real? What about all that airport security bullsh*t? You mean I had to buy travel-size EVERYTHING, put it in a zip-lock bag and not be allowed to bring my own beverages...yet we can all hang out with the pilot in the cockpit? Sadly no one seemed all that interested except for a couple old guys (in their 40’s) and well, me. I walked up the aisle to the cockpit and sat my butt right in the co-pilot seat. The pilot was very nice but wouldn’t let me touch any of the buttons or controls when I kept trying to. I did, however, get on the steering wheel (which I was told is called a yoke) and pretended like I was actually flying the plane. Even though the plane didn't even move an inch, I felt empowered nonetheless. The pilot also let me announce on the intercom, “Good morning ladies and gentlemen. This is your captain speaking!” That was fun, but I was so tempted to add, “We are so sorry for the delay and would like to make it up to everyone by offering FREE WINE AND BOOZE!” But I refrained myself because I didn't want to get kicked off the plane. Well at least that made my flight a little more interesting. And what a fun start to an exciting 3-month adventure in the Big Apple!

Then after Cindy picked me up from the airport back to her beautiful new condo in Queens (see pics), we took the subway to work where she also works so I can get my paperwork started and fingerprinted and learn how to take the subway. Much to my chagrin, I had to pay $115 out of my own pocket to get fingerprinted. Can you believe that nonsense? Since now that I'm an independent contractor, I can't expense ANYTHING! Well I guess a tax write-off will do...Note to self: must learn all contracting tax laws. Anyone care to give me tax advice?