It's too busy to be sick in.

Sunday night I was struck with the onset of a cold.  Or so I assumed.  Monday morning, other than feeling groggier than usual, I thought I was doing ok.  Time was dragging by supremely slow, and the weather had taken on a chill that rattled me down to the bone.  I realized my stomach was flipping up and down, and wondered if the train ride would be ok.  

It wasn't, not by a damn sight.  I got off at 2 stops I had never been to before to find a toilet to retch in.  Knowing I was on a tight schedule for class, I tried not to stay crouched over the bowl for more than 5 minutes at a whack.  Holding it down for the last leg of the 40 minute train ride was tough, but I did it, only to make another pit stop before exiting the station.  The one mile walk stretched on to infinity, and the nausea/pain/cold was chipping away at my strength to lug my bag around.  Surely, it was a bad day to bring my laptop.  

I made it to class just in time to not miss the quiz, and scored perfectly.  Strict as this teacher is though, I bolted straight out of the room, found an empty bathroom stall, and hovered over it in quiet agony until I thought I'd be able to safely sit through the rest of class.  20 minutes later, after playing my uvula like a dinner bell to get the rest of the junk up, I got back to class.  My head was still swimming though, and the sweat/shakes were getting more intense.  I lasted a good 30 minutes, but I knew when I had reached my nausea threshold.  Teach was a good sport about it though and didn't make a big to-do about it.  I went back to attempting my train conductor impression, tugging on the back of my throat like a steam whistle.  

Now, I'm trying to solider on, because I know I still have an oral presentation to give, homework to submit, and a quiz to take before I can safely run home.  But I'm so exhausted, legs aching, chest hurting (I think I gave myself a hernia (not joking)), pale and weak, I had lost all hope of sounding coherent enough to do my speech.  Luckily, the teacher I just had found me stumbling around the top floor, looking for the office of my next professor (see, this presentation I had to give was between classes, at a predetermined appointment, to judge Japanese oral efficacy for memorization, diction, and the ability to handle a series of questions).  He asked if I was ok, and I said I just needed to find Yamaguchi sensei. He said he had no clue who that was, but luckily dragged me around the maze of cubicles until we found her.  Thanks again John.  You're a life saver.

Now this, this was really something.  My teacher expected me to say as much as I could in Japanese, but only up to what we -should- know.  Thus, I tried to explain, kimochi warui.  Onaka ga byouki desu yo.  She really didn't question it, since I was clearly pale and clammy, slumped in the seat across from her.  Except, it's polite to question everything rhetorically, sou desu ne?  And I'm like, ee, shitsureshimasu onegaishimasu.  I pressed on though, and took what should've been a 1 minute speech about my family and dragged it on for years (I got a great grade, so I totally didn't go beyond the allotted 5 minutes that's for sure) as I paused to catch my breath and stifle my stomach hitches throughout the whole embarrassing show.  What probably saved me was that my core script was solid and my pronunciation didn't suffer as much as my pacing and breath control did.  After it was over she said it was good, yokkata ne.  However, she needed to ask a few questions that I should be able to understand and respond to on the spot.  And would you believe that in this state of mind, I almost had an easier time keeping up a paced conversation?  I got sloppy and creative with the uses of words (technically, you don't have a cold, you have the wind, etc.) but she corrected me and I learned along the way.  While there's certainly a large room for improvement, our grading was based on a 1 to 3 scale, and nothing more.  Great, good, needs work. I found out yesterday I got all greats and a big happy sticker yokudekimashita.

This, however, is still Monday.  And as well(?) as that speech went, I tried negotiating to get my quiz taken early so that I could get the hell out of school and back home.  Unfortunately, our Japanese department is so strict about attendance and distribution of quizes/tests, etc., that there was no room for her to make exceptions.  It needed to be by the books, and if I couldn't stay, it would be on my record.  I, at very least, managed to get my homework submitted, so I was not horribly disappointed.  I took my leave and began the long walk home.

Which, of course, couldn't begin in earnest until I had jackhammered my throat with my finger until the build up of nausea had receded enough to give me the confidence to to do.  I couldn't believe how tired and sore I was.  I was walking with the speed of an old obaasan, slightly hunched over, taking staggering zombie like steps.  A mile of this in below freezing temperature, with a 25kg weight on your shoulders, and I had to just shut my mind off.  Time didn't behave normally for the next 3 days.  Everything crawled by at a snail's pace.  Music from TV shows was noticeably slower.  I used to like that side effect when I was younger.  Now that I understand that my body is actually pumping blood through my body at an intensified rate, my metabolism working overtime to combat the virus, I was more alarmed at how furiously my body was fighting.  Though, on this first day, Monday, I couldn't listen to music to save my life.  It instantly made my stomach go into spin-cycle mode.  Even the audiobooks I'm so fond of caused it to lurch forward and back.  That train ride home was as bad as the one going in.  Almost worse.  Sweat was pouring off my head.  I stopped 3 times, and let me tell you that no assistance from any digit was needed to make me throw (what little was left) up.  I had the good sense to buy some Pocari Sweat, a Gatorade like drink they sell here, to keep my body's salt and water levels from getting too depleted.  Finally, the last stop, and I can't wait to get off the damn train.  I thanked my luck that I didn't embarrass myself further by throwing up in public on these crowded trains, where surely I would have tagged no less than 4 people with my spittle.  I get upstairs, thanking Japan for it's obsession with escalators.  I make another stop in their bathroom, get stuck with the Japanese style toilet, and just sat in the corner of the stall, biding my time until I had the confidence to get back out into the streets for the last leg of the journey.

Of course by this time, my legs feel bruised.  The shakes had made my hands lock up in a peculiar shape, not unlike lobster claws.  So cold, I was, that I knew it must stem from an intense fever.  Despite the long johns, the shirt, the over shirt, the hoodie, and the vest over it, the boxers, the thick jeans, and a god damned scarf, I was shivering like a wind-up-toy.  Vomiting aside, I was getting more worried that I'd start to cry in public.  The pain and cold, on top of me feeling emotionally off kilter from everything leading up to now, was pushing the boundaries of my stoic demeanor.  In a moment of determination, I gathered my things and made a final march home.  Leaving early from school, I wasn't used to being greeted by the sunlight when I exited the Oedo line.  It gave a touch of warmth that I focused on all the way home.  Finally, up 4 flights of stairs, dropping the school bag, and nothing else, I came into the tatami room, blasted the heater, and slipped under the blankets.  Now that I could lay down, quite literally for the first time since I woke up, I knew I couldn't get back up.  I was down for the count by 4 in the afternoon.

The next day, the nausea was gone.  The damage it did to me was still there though.  My legs were stiff with a sharp pain, my stomach was still tender (I swear I have a hernia), my shoulders and neck could not move independently anymore, and my lower back refused to support me enough to sit up straight.  Oh goody.  There was no getting out of class though.  I had another presentation due for a different class.  The hilarious part was that it was a group project.  A group project that, for 7 days, my group never even bothered to respond to my emails.  I did my project from start to finish, solo.  However, I held no grudge since the assignment was a trifle anyway.  I printed out 4 copies of my work and was prepared to hand them out.  Come class time though, they were all absent.  It dawned on me that last Friday was the last day to drop classes.  Clearly, they jumped ship and didn't have the heart to tell me I was screwed.  I wasn't mad.  Actually, I thought it was funny enough to be pleased by the outcome.  Since nobody wanted to do their presentation (save for the first group.  Bravo, guys) I went up and did my speech.  For a solo job, I think it all went really well.  I haven't heard back about the grade, but I got some chuckles and good questions.  That's about all I really wanted.

After class, I was blessed.  Truly blessed.  For, the class afterwards, was reserved just for essay writing help.  Me, I love essays.  I have never needed help in constructing a competent research paper.  I've had this teacher before and I knew that this day was not a requirement, so I happily skipped home (I did not "skip", so much as I waddled).  Which still took half an eternity.  I came home and laid down.  Quickly I learned that I had exhausted all the energy I had in those few early hours of the day.  Barely able to get to the bathroom and back without running short of breath, I called it a day.

Wednesday, the rest of the cold hit.  Head was stuffy, lungs were clogged, nose was dripping both ways, the whole shebang.  Thankfully, I had my medical face masks (you know, Japan, good move with these; it hides your 5 day old beard and it's hygienic to your neighbors).  Time was catching back up to speed.  I endured my Japanese test (which I'll find out how I did on today (edit: quite well)), and started outlining the essay due Thursday.  What made this day special though, was that my appetite came back.  What a better way to deal with hunger, then to douse it in polyunsaturated fats and salt?  It was time for some Makudonarudo!

Julie, it seems, has been cursed with ordering from McD's here.  She always winds up short 1 large fry.  I assumed it was because she didn't clearly state that she wanted 2 sets (meals).  So, when I stopped by, I did my damnedest to try and order, very clearly, 2 separate sets.  Right now they have this awesome Texas 2 burger, which is a big chunk of beef (whopper size, but thicker), chili with beans and big onions, a mustard/relish sause, and the obligatory middle bun.  This happened without a hitch.  Julie, as we've discussed, isn't big on condiments.  Unlike Burger King where removing things from the sandwiches is (mostly) painless, the staff at McDonalds here just can't seem to grasp what she's saying.  It's like she's asking for a cheeseburger without the bun.  Typically, then, she jumps on the chicken nugget meals.  I asked for one.  Here is where the confusion began.  The fact is, there IS no chicken nugget set in Japan.  At least not normally.  You can buy all the parts separately, but there's no price-saving method for getting 6 nuggets, fries and a drink.  However, the man did his best to be accommodating to the baka gaijin in the face mask, and made a logical leap on my behalf.  He gave me a chicken nugget set.  

The happy set.

I figured out what happened when he didn't offer me a choice of size.  I asked in my broken sort of way if I understood correctly, and, sure enough, nuggets are just a side dish here.  I shrugged and went ahead with it.  After all, shakes only come in one size here (pathetically small), and I was happy to share my fries.  

What, to my surprise, should I find at the bottom of the bag when I get home, but a toy!  Of course!  How could I forget about the toy!

Seriously, how could I forget?

So, I am now the proud and kind of creeped out owner of this SUPONJI BOBBU who looks so genki he's ready to shit his little squarepants.  

Now that the week is winding down, I'm looking forward to a weekend that isn't filled with work.  I'll just tend to my Minecraft world a little bit.  I think pruning my arboretum will put my mind at ease and body to rest.  Surely this week's sudden sickness was a sort of preemptive karmic balance.  Just like how I was ill right before the trip to the life sized Gundam in Shizuoka, I'm sure this is a sign that my 4 day trip to Kyoto, and Hiroshima will be wonderful.

Dan out.

Ja jaaan!  Suponji Bobbu da yo!

It's a place where loose change can mean dinner for 2.

Today, let's talk about money.  Coins, specifically.

First, let me introduce a friend of mine.  His name is the man.

The man is accepted everywhere.

I go to a 7-11, and I want a can of coffee, a rice ball, and a Weekly Famitsu.  It comes to 1180円.  Then I slam down a man, a 10,000円 bill.  The clerk doesn't hesitate for a second, smiles and takes the man and returns to me 8 sen.  Then he hands me the following:
1 500円 coin
3 100円 coins
2   10円 coins
I smile, say どうも, bow slightly, and make my leave.  I put the 8 sen in my wallet.  That is now the money I "really have".  The change, well, that's just change.

This is how I wind up with 800円, about $10, in my pocket, going completely unnoticed.

This sounds awesome though, doesn't it?  I mean, no one here questions the use of, essentially, $100 bills to pay for $15 bucks worth of crap at a convenience store.  They don't even bother holding it up to the light to make absolutely certain that it's not counterfeit.  And, if you plan around having only what's in your wallet you can make yourself a pretty pot of gold back home.  Which is what I've found that I had.

Here, I have divided my change pile in half.  This is what was accumulated in about one month's time of utterly ignoring change (outside of buying drinks from the vending machine downstairs).

Now, to those unaccustomed to American currency, it'd be easy to pull a fast one and make one large mound of nickels and pennies, and one tiny one of quarters and dimes.  This is, precisely, what I've done here.  However, the difference in value is staggering.  Mind you also, these are completely standard coins.  There's no "uncommon" coins in either pile.

Left value: 3,750円 ($45.18)
Right value: 172円  ($2.07)

Amazing.  I'd have assumed 1,000 or 2,000 at most, but nearly 4,000円 going completely unaccounted for, gathering dust in my turned over DVD spindle cover.  It is a boon of dinner like proportions.  Tonight, we dine out.

Dining out in Tokyo can mean a cornucopia of various dishes and atmospheres.  However, as Julie can attest in her (much more frequently updated and picture laden) blog, having the courage to try new food is NOT her forte.  Try as I do to expose her to new experiences, we've settled into a groove of food choices.

Option #1: Cafe Gusto

The old failsafe.  Gusto is part of a family of restaurants owned by Skylark.  You can find these and it's other variations all over Tokyo.  Jonathan's, Bamiyan, Yumean, they all have the same pricing and atmosphere.  Be seated, get an enormous menu, push the call waiter button when you're ready, get a meal in 5 minutes.  While each of the different names offer a different style of food, Gusto seems to deal mainly in hamburg.  It's not exactly like american hamburger but closer to salisbury steak, right down to the sauce, the side of tater tots and corn.

Every once in a while, they offer something new and wild.  Sometimes they're wonderful.  I had a great kimchee bowl no more than a few weeks ago that goes toe to toe with some specialty diners.  Then there are the disasters like the cheese-in burger.  Imagine a salisbury steak patty that was injected with far too much processed cheese.  After the first bite, globs of oil and cheese-esque slop came raining out of the burger, soaking the plate in nightmarishly off-white coating.  I tried to salvage the burger by wringing it like a towel, expelling the vile infection, but no amount of effort would make the burger worth the effort.  Since then, both Julie and I have played it safe, ordering no meals that cross lines man was not meant to overstep.  Pictured above is a wiener plate and the uncommon steak.

It's hard to get too upset about one bad meal though.  Gusto has many other plusses.  They're literally one block away, so it takes no effort to go out, even on chilly winter days.  They're also open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  To top it all off, if we were truly so desperate, they deliver.  Great stuff.

Average price of a meal and drink per person: 1250円

Option #2: Nakau

Nakau is located about 8 blocks away, north towards Ekoda station's Seibu Ikebukuro line.  Despite being a bit further out from home, it's a cosy affair.  It's another 24 hour slop shop, this one dealing more in soba and gyuudon bowls.  You order from the vending machine in the front of the store, inserting money and picking your meal by pushing buttons.  The machine spits out some tickets, which you hand to the cook, who in turn seats you and offers a hot glass of green tea.  Additionally, machine lets you set the tickets for take out, providing decent take out meal.  Which we actually prefer, because the radio blasts the Nakau theme song every 3 minutes.

Check this guy's video for an example of how this place works.  Note how the man is accepted even in a vending machine.



Also, someone else captured that damn song (and not much else) in this vid.



Credit to the original uploaders.
Average price of a meal and drink per person: 750円

Option #3: Masala

God bless you Julie for being able to tolerate Indian food.  While you can't seem to stomach the contents of most bento boxes, sushi, anything remotely spicy, or almost everything in the vegetable block of the food pyramid, you redeem yourself ten fold by liking curry and nan.  Credit for finding this place is entirely hers too.  It's in the maze of shopping that is the Ekoda Ginza (not to be confused with Ginza proper).  Our shopping arcade is hardly as classy as its namesake would lead you to believe, but I love it just the same.  In the basement of one building is this really comfortable, warm, Indian bistro that has good prices, generous portions, thick mango lassis, and comfy chairs.  On top of all that, the waiters spoke English, or at least enough so that I could ask some questions and compliment the staff.  Recommended.

Average price for a meal and drink per person: 1200円

Option #4: Burger King or McDonalds

Don't laugh.  This is real treat for us.  There's no BK close by to us on foot.  The closest ones that we know of are in Shinjuku and Ikebukuro, both are about a 10 minute ride by train or subway.  Is it worth the extra 270円 just to eat American Fast Food?  You bet your ass it is.  There has been literally nothing lost in the transition to Japan.  The food tastes just as it should.  You'll notice in the picture something else as well: beer and highballs are available to drink for a measly 70円 more than a soda.  Going there always puts a smile on our face.  The last time we went, they were offering what is, in my opinion, the single most Japanese innovation that BK could've mustered:

Because this is what Americans eat.  This not-quite-pizza/not-quite-burger frankenstein costs a whopping (pun) $20, and set is nearly $36.  According to the BK in Ikebukuro they will actually deliver this set.  Good lord.  I mean, it looks pretty delicious, don't get me wrong, but this almost deserves a place on thisiswhyyourefat.com.

Wait.  It is: http://www.thisiswhyyourefat.com/?p=553684318

And what do you know, it IS an American meal, "exclusive" to New York City's Whopper Bar.  Maybe I should go back and edit my entry now that I've done some research.  Eh.  Nah.

On the other hand, McDonalds is right in our neighborhood, only about a block further down from Masala.  What can be said about マクドナルド that hasn't already been said?  I think the internet does a good enough job giving you the gist: it looks and feels and smells (yes) like any other Micky D's, but has peculiar specials (way more eccentric than the NY Pizza Burger) and ludicrous commercials.  Just google it.

Let's see now, the last two months, they had these wonderful iCon Chicken sandwich specials rotating every week or two.

First up, the iCon Cheese Fondue Burger (the word "burger" is used pretty loosely here).

This one had come and gone by the time we started visiting McD's, so I can't vouch for its taste.  Suffice it to say that anything that's been dipped in cheese, sprinkled with cheese, and put on a bed of bacon, lettuce, and a slice of cheese is maddeningly close to being a weapon.

Next up, the iCon German Sausage. 

This made a grown man cry.  I learned to love again.  I came to believe in unicorns and wishing upon a shooting star.  This...this is what all 500円 sandwiches should strive to be like.  Not only was the chicken cooked with spices and batter that fairies concocted in a magical tree of heavenly delights, but the sandwich had a huge slice of sausage, brown mustard, sauerkraut, topped off with cheese (the cheese was nothing special).  Then, in the blink of an eye it was gone, whisked off to Avalon to await the likes of King Arthur, where it rightfully belongs.

The iCon Chicken Diabolo.

For something so impressive looking, I'm mostly neutral about it.  The chicken is dipped in a hot sauce of a sort (lots of it), has bacon (Japanese bacon is not bacon, it's just luke warm ham), American cheese, and a toasted bun.  Looks better than it really was.  I still preferred the mainstay of the menu, the iCon Chicken Salt and Lemon. 

Last, they had the iCon Chicken Carbonara.

Which I had been looking forward to trying until I saw the picture.  I love a chicken carbonara, but this looked like the cheese fondue all over again, but with...what is that...corn on the top?  I gave it a miss.

Average cost for a meal and drink per person: 750円

Option #5: Mr. Donut

This one is pretty conditional on the time of day or  what "meal" it's supposed to be.  Me and donuts have a pretty amicable, if not strictly professional relationship.  I will order one, and I will eat it, and I will not have any qualms about it.  That's about as far as we go though (save for that one box of Krispy Kremes that surely ruined our future together).

So no, I'm not crazy about donuts.  Doubly so for Japanese donuts.  They're either too bland or too sweet, but never right in the right dose.  Take those in the picture.  The glaze is almost unnoticeable in flavor, but the frosting on the cupcake had a bold kick of strawberry that begged the mouth to take some of the cake along with each bite, lest the frosting shock the nervous system.

The part that grinds my gears abut this place is the prices.  I'm used to spending under a dollar per donut, but these bounce between 120円 and 270円.  That and the coffee, while not bad, is expensive for the amount they offer.  Dunkin' Donuts has really spoiled me with those 32oz hot coffees, which are about the same price as the 6oz cup pictured above.

Complaints aside though, Julie deserves a sweet every now and again, so I'm happy to indulge her.  It's not terribly far away, just two blocks down from Nakau, and has ample seating.

Average cost for a meal and drink per person: 270円 for each drink, about 150円 per donut.


Until the next time I have anything worth talking about.  Dan out.
This one's for you Bob