A Short Long Island

After working almost two weeks straight, one needs at least ONE day off. What do I do with mine? Head out of town of course!













Yes, I ventured out to Long Island. There are no crazy stories accompanied by this trip, but there are some nice photographs.

























Long Island was peaceful. One night with family, and then it was back to the city for me. Only this time, I had my cousin with me. We tore up NYC as we walked more than 100 blocks in one day. For the first time ever, I was taken up to the top on the Empire State Building, the 102nd floor. The view was stunning.




Oh how I love playing tour guide in a city which I know nothing about. Thank you Janice for the wonderful time hundreds of feet above New York!

England and I Have an Interesting Relationship

England and I have an interesting relationship. I feel like little bits of England or the UK follow me around, making their appearance right when I least expect it. This all started in Japan. I by great chance lived with a half British host family. We had a wonderful relationship. While living with them I purchased a very cheap, but very stylish messenger bag. The brand was Lonsdale, and apparently it's a brand from London. I didn't think twice about the brand. I didn't even realize the bag was British. I purchased it exclusively for its stylish factor, but now I had two little British bits following me around.

So there I was living with a British family, and unknowingly sporting around a British bag. I then moved to New York, and landed a job with British Airways. I again was surrounded by many people from the UK. After that job busted out, I thought I escaped the British clutch.

Then last night happened.

I was out with a new friend. We were having a few drinks, being social at a Midtown club. There were two boys sitting next to us. I paid them no attention. After a little while, one of our bench buddies pinches my shirt. He tells me that he liked the golden glitter stripes on my black button down. I thanked him, and started chatting.

He was from London, but didn't have a very interesting story. He was on New York on business (his company buys out smaller companies), and hated the city. After an hour of chatting on and off, he asked who owned the Lonsdale bag sitting on the bench. I claimed it, and then he made a snappy comment. He called that brand "really cheap shit in London."

I didn't really know what to do.

I said, "okay..." not knowing what he expected from me. I didn't even know what the brand was, I just wore it because it was cheap and cute (spoken like a true Tokyoite). I didn't care so much to talk to this man after his comment.

My friend was upset at this Londoner. My friend went on about how rude that comment was and about how I should have made a bitchy comment back. I didn't want to make any bitchy comment back. I didn't feel I had to justify owning a cheap bag. I love that. What do I care what some random boy who buys companies for a living thinks about my bag.

Also let's be honest. Making a bitchy comment back to him would have just lowered me to his standard. I'm not a bitchy gay man like him, and never will be. My bag and I walked away that night with no hard feelings. We fashionably walked across town to the 6 line and boarded the train in style.

Today I worked the night shift. I was going to take my khaki bag to work, but felt I hadn't been sporting around my sexy Lonsdale bag with a hot pink Ayu pin in the corner enough. I packed that bag and headed to work. On my way home that night, I left the restaurant, and started walking to 1st Ave to catch the M15 bus uptown. Somewhere between 3rd Ave and 1st Ave, a random boy yelled something to me. I was crossing the street when I heard his voice. I turned around, and it was a slim white boy whom I had never seen.

"What was that?" I asked.

"I said, where did you get your bag?" He shouted again.

This was weird, I thought. My bag had gotten me into trouble the night before, and now it's stirring up some commotion yet again. What's the deal here?

I started to walk back to his side of the street, so that my shouting voice could morph into a speaking voice. I told him that I got the bag at some thrift shop far out of town. He looked at me and said, "a thrift shop?" He made a pretty strange face, and from the intonation in his voice, I could instantly tell that he was gay. I repeated, "yeah...a thrift shop." He nodded his head and said, "Cool, I really like it."

A tiny smirk sprouted on my face, which quickly turned into a smile. "Thank you," I said, and then turned my back, and headed for the M15.

I don't know what kind of game England is trying to play with me. It gave me an amazing family, then a horrible job. Then it gave me a bitchy comment, followed by an endearing compliment. Whatever game this is, I suppose I'll just play along.

It seems to be giving me lemons, but it also seems to be giving me some delicious strawberries, along with some perfectly timed confidence boosters.

Tokyo vs. New York

Did Japan follow me to America, or did I take it with me? The past couple weeks seem to be getting more and more Japanese. A week ago I found a Japanese supermarket, 3o blocks from my house. It was great. I bought kimchee, miso soup mix, curry, and many more delicious items.

Yesterday I had the day off, so I decided to be productive, and go out. I dropped by Kinokuniya, browsed some Japanese books, CD's, magazines, the usual. I then stumbled upon a giant Ayumi promo poster for her new remix album. I begged the sales woman to let me buy it. After about 5 minutes of begging with no luck, I gave up.

After Kinokuniya, I dropped by Book OFF, to search for a Japanese DVD player. There were none, so I just browsed the store. Then on my way to the train station I found another Japanese supermarket. I bought some matcha flavored soba noodles, some nori shio potato chips, and of course, two daifuku to share with my roomie.

I got home, and decide to cook mabo dofu for dinner. I thought I knew what i was doing, so I didn't read the directions and messed up the mabo mix. Then I tried to use some tofu and make miso soup. I forgot the hon dashi, and the miso tasted way too funky to eat. I threw it all away. At least the mabo was edible.

After that I relaxed a bit, sat on my floor, and used my computer. Then some of my Social Eatz boys texted me to go out for karaoke. There was no way I could refuse. So I got all dolled up, Tokyo style, and then headed out. We went to a Karaoke BAR (yes that's right, we sat at a bar...no private room). It was a little strange for me. Karaoke in my mind should never be public. Karaoke should be an intimate experience you share with friends only in a private room.

But hey, I'm in America now. Time to do things America style...right? So I browsed the song list. Naturally I knew almost none of the English songs, and I ask the two Japanese bartenders if there was a Japanese song list. I put in a few Ayu songs, and sang my heart out. The bartenders realized I could speak Japaneses and start speaking Japanese to me for the rest of the night.

When I got home, I stumbled into my bathroom sized apartment, and walked the three steps to my bedroom. Then rolled down my futon, and drifted off to sleep.

Now what's wrong with that story? Hm?

I might as well be back in Japan, no? This has been the dilemma I've been contemplating. There are aspects about America that I love...but aspects about Japan (specifically Tokyo) that I love too. So which ones are more important?

Right now Japan is winning. I've been pining over Tokyo, wishing I could be back there. But there was a reason I left, no? I know that if I really wanted to stay I could have. But I didn't really want to stay there. I felt like it was time to leave.

I didn't feel an ounce of sadness leaving my host families home on that last day. I didn't feel regretful at all taking that train ride to the airport with my TUJ friends. And after I said goodbye to my boy, I knew it was the right decision to leave and work on a new chapter.

Recently though I've gotten lost. I've been second guessing my presence in NYC. Why? One reason - I'm lonely.

NYC is perfect in almost every aspect, except for the one that matters most right now. I have almost no friends. Yes, I'm slowly meeting people, and yes I will have good friends in a few years. But right now things have been a bit tough. I find myself wishing to be back in Tokyo, living with my host family, biking down to Ogikubo, sharing the insanity of ni-chome nights, doing all the things that felt comfortable yet fun.

I suppose right there is why I left though. Things felt too comfortable, and I wasn't feeling challenged. Maybe I'm just attracted to instability. Maybe I need something to be off in my life to feel like I'm making progress. Does that make sense?

Either way...the aspect of my life that is off right now is the lack of friends. That's why I've been missing Tokyo so much these past few weeks. And perhaps that's why I've been bringing Japan to me here.

I'm not giving up on NY. It's a bit lonely here, but I'm going to give it at least a year before I make any big move. Japan was lonely at first too, and look at how that turned out. I owe it to myself to give NY a chance. And if that means living a little Japanese-like at the moment, then so be it.

The Beauty of Travel

I saw a clever subway ad once. It said, “Love the city, flirt with the country.” That's exactly what I'm doing this weekend. It's time to leave New York and head back up North, to the “town” of Boston, and then the empty forest called Wilbraham. It's a little ridiculous how excited I got for this trip. I've lived in Boston for about a year (although it feels like five), and I've lived in Wilbraham, for 18 years. However just the thought of picking up and being in a new location stirs excitement that can't be matched by any other emotion.

I'm a traveler. Long bus rides, and unreliable transportation are my life. Just boarding the bus today made me feel all giddy inside, just the way I felt when departing for Japan for the first time in June 2006. I guess the travel bug has made a nest inside of me that it refuses to leave. That's okay little guy, I'll take care of you.

Something funny did happen though before I left. I felt something a little unexpected. After work today I had to rush home, gather my things, and then rush back out to catch my bus. Busy busy busy, just the way I like it. I had left work, and arrived at my home station. As I exited the subway, and started walking down 86^th Street, I started to feel sad. I was already missing New York before I had left.

I thought to myself, “This is strange...I've been waiting for this trip for months, and now I almost don't want to go. What's happening?” I've narrowed it down to one of two options:

A: The city is such an adventure, that leaving it right now with three days off is like leaving the theater right after THE introduction ends, and before Ayu has made her epic entrance.

Or

B: I'm starting to crave a home base. I'm just getting my nest set up, and I'm falling in love with my neighborhood more and more every day. I want to stay there and make it my HOME.

I don't know which one of those is accurate. Maybe both of them are. Having a home right now is a very desirable thought. I've spend over two months living off of my friend's floor. It's time to have a place of my own. But also, my neighborhood reveals new surprises every day. Yesterday it showed my a hidden movie theater. Today it showed me some adorable thrift shops. What will I uncover tomorrow?

I'm on the bus now, riding through rural Connecticut. The change in scenery is so refreshing for my spirit. I feel like for many people, steady lifestyles, and similar environments offer security. For me it's the opposite. I feel much more comfortable being on the go. I feel safe when I'm in a new location, or even just a location I haven't visited in a while. It's what I'm used to, and it's what I love.

So watch out Massachusetts, I'm back. It's only for a few days, but hey, let's be honest. A few days is all we need together. Once I get back to Manhattan, I will be officially moved in. I will have all my clothing, all my Ayu crap, and most importantly my shamisen.

So it's official, New York is going to be my new home base. That is until the little bug inside me wakes up from his sleep and is ready for some new fun.

Starbucks Boy

I like to think of myself as an experienced mover. I've moved house too many times in the past five years. If we count them all up, it makes 12. I've certainly learned a lot about moving, particularly how to handle the emotions it brings up. First I get excited, ready to make the new space my own. Then I get frustrated because moving is NEVER as simple as I plan it out to be. Once I get in, relief wraps me up in a warm blanket. I realize at that point I am all finished. Then quickly, out of nowhere comes the final emotion, loneliness.

Being in a new home means I've left my element, and entered a new one. I've come to learn that leaving my element, regardless of the type of element, always brings negatives with the positives. Moving into my new home gave me a sense of security. It gave me a new adventure. It gave me a reason to but a fancy rice cooker that sings "twinkle twinkle little star" to me.

But it also gave me loneliness. Being in my empty apartment, staring at my white, blank walls without any furniture, any personality, or any internet connection really pulled me out of my comfort zone. I'm not a stranger to this emotion, but it's one of those emotions that I don't want to remember...so I never did.

Today, being the media crazy 22 year old that I am, I was desperate for internet. So I walked two blocks down to the nearest Starbucks to mooch off of their free wi-fi service. When I entered the shop, there were no seats available. So I decided to wait.

There I stood, in the center of a room filled with loungers. Almost nobody was drinking coffee. Some old men in the back were sitting down, reading newspapers. Some kids to my left were chatting up a storm with their empty cups. Then over to my right was an attractive young male doing some work on his computer. I realized there was a chair next to him with some papers on it. One of the old newspaper reading men noticed that I was waiting for a seat. He approached me, and told me I could sit with him if the young man to my right would give up his chair.

“SCORE.” I thought. People in New York are so nice. It was time to hop on my computer and ride the waves of cyberspace. So I asked the attractive young man to my right for his chair. I said, “Excuse me, I'm sorry do you mind if I take this chair?” He glanced up at me and replied with, “Um... yeah I do.”

Let's be honest, this caught me a little off guard. He minded if I took the chair? He didn't want me to sit down and do my work? What the hell kind of papers were those that they required their own chair? What a dick. I was quite angry about this, but kept my calm. I just nodded and continued to wait. Eventually A seat opened up, and I snagged it like it was the last cheese karaage-kun at Lawsons.

Throughout my hour or so there I realized that same boy was glancing over at me every so often. I ended up leaving Starbucks soon after, only to find myself returning a half hour later. Apparently I was quite desperate for cyberspace access. When I entered the shop again he looked over at me. There was a table with two chairs right in front of me.

He made a comment that didn't seem rude, but given the previous circumstance, it was a bit questionable. He said, “Hey you got two now.”

I gave him the benefit of the doubt and assumed that he was being lighthearted and silly. I replied with something like, “I could even bring a friend.” So I sat down to do my surfing, and I noticed again that he was turning hes head every so often to peer in my direction. We made eye contact a few times. I acknowledged it with a head nod or an eyebrow raise. Nothing fancy.

About an hour later I started getting ready to leave. I saw him quickly start to pack up his things. We stood from out chairs at roughly the same time. Apparently he was leaving too. Then things started getting weird. He looked over at me, and asked me, “So what were you working on.”

Again, this boy caught me off guard. His question ended up leading into a short conversation about me furniture hunting because I just moved into the neighborhood. He mentioned that he lived close by as well.

Throughout the whole conversation I couldn't figure out what was going on. Was this boy flirting with me, or was he being friendly? My gaydar was NOT going off in any way, shape, or form. It was at level zero. So I had no reason to think he was flirting with me. But I couldn't help but ask myself why a straight man would act like this. I think I need to pose a question to all my straight friends. Do you guys just strike up conversations with other men at Starbucks? How about after you've been stealing glances at them for hours? Please enlighten me.

I refused to believe that he was flirting, partially because the gaydar signal was so low, but also because I wasn't ready to embarrass myself in front of a random cute straight boy at my local Starbucks. Either way though, it felt good to be acknowledged. I packed my things a bit faster than him, and departed, leaving one final comment.

“Well maybe I'll see you around again, yeah?”

And off I went.

As I left Starbucks, a new emotion arose inside of me. The loneliness I was feeling before seemed to dissipate, making room for a new one. That boy was flirting with me. He was interested. I no longer felt alone. Manhattan had just sent me a welcome home present. It acknowledged my arrival, and greeted me with a friendly flirt from a friendly, yet chair hungry neighborhood hottie. Yes, New York had finally opened its doors, and invited me inside.

Like I've mentioned before...Sometimes all we need is that one person, in that right moment, to say just the right thing, which gives us confirmation that we're on the right track.