Julie and the Sea

Sometimes when I was in a melancholy mood I would hop on the train and ride the three stops down to the heart of Shinjuku. Intently listening to my headphones, I was deaf to the sudden soundless onslaught of people rushing up and down the stairs, pouring through the exits and entrances. I quickly learned to be carried along like a member of a school of fish, part of a mass but swimming with determination. 

It was winter then. The station was crowded as always, and from the exit I frequented I could see up close the clocktower that usually illuminated a portion of my window back home on the twelfth floor of my building. Wearing more sweaters than I would have ever back in sunny California, I pulled my hat down over my head and my scarf around my chilled face. And then I would just sit. And watch. Somehow the ebb and flow of people was more entertaining than any movie, more comforting than the tumult of stores around me. It was an interesting way to language learn as well, catching snippets of vocabulary that I otherwise may not have learned, while in the meantime pondering and wondering upon each of the little realities that every person carried around. 

Eventually the temperature would drop even lower, the neon lights simultaneously flicker on to create the illusion of a overly chromatic daylight, and I would make my way into a cafe. No pressure to leave after just a cup of coffee, and it is just me alone with my thoughts, the neon glow, and the sea of people.  

Lost at Sea?

Four months. It has been a little over four months that I've been in Japan, and it both feels and doesn't feel that way. So much has changed, and yet it feels as though time flew right on by. Like I've been stuck in some sort of alternate reality, segregated from what I know and the regular flow of events, leaving me time to think and do what I will.

I came to Japan for three months when I was only seventeen. I had many amazing experiences that really helped me recognize and shape my sense of self. Since I entered college, in the back of my mind I always entertained the idea that I would return some day for a longer duration of time. I tried to keep up with the language while balancing my college life, and I even revisited for three weeks last winter. Revisiting was lots of fun, especially since I got to revisit with the very friends I made in Japan and had not seen in person for three years. It is weird how one experience can lastingly bring people together.

As I was finishing my undergraduate studies, it felt more and more as if studying abroad was not an option. When application deadlines for Waseda Univeristy in Tokyo came around, I decided to try and apply without expecting to be accepted to the program due to its competitive nature.

But, as I've learned, I was shooting myself down beforehand. I got into the program, received scholarships and grants, and everything was good to go. I was perfectly willing at the time to go into a little debt to go abroad and finish a degree that would boost my career if I chose to work in Japan.

So I came to Tokyo and did everything I was supposed to. I made new friends, tried different things, went on many expenditures, spoke lots of Japanese, attended my classes, went to parties, drank, socialized, etc. It was very easy for me to slip into a routine, though that very routine was only a distraction. I thought that this was good, since I tend to think about things too much, but I had to eventually face reality.

I came here not only to study but to find out more about myself, and I certainly did, though it was not at all what I was expecting. I realized Japan was not my dream anymore. For so many years I held it in my heart as something I really wanted, something that I had to do. I started changing once I got into college (for the better, in my opinion), but it left me feeling ambivalent towards who I was anymore. I clung to this phantom idea of myself - a girl who really wanted to live and work in Japan someday - because it was familiar, because it was something I had accepted and adopted into a mindset.

Don't get me wrong, Japan is a fun place to be, and for many people it is a dream, I think. It is just not mine anymore. I would like to visit again, but to live here? I know the language well enough to get by, I'm comfortable going places by myself, have seen and learned a lot. For now I feel entirely correct in making the decision to come home after this semester, to find a new dream's horizon to chase after. If when I reach that horizon I find nothing but undesirable fluff anymore, well, then the journey was worth it. I can no longer disregard how dynamic human nature can be.

I once thought to myself, If I keep riding the waves as they come, will I eventually be lost at sea? And now I answer myself that I can try and steer myself in whatever direction, fight or take with the waves, but in the end its a combination of both that gets me where I need to be.

2 Months Later

So I've been in Japan for about two months now. It feels kind of hard to believe that it's been that long already, although in retrospect I have done quite a bit. I find myself studying a lot less than I did back in the US, an occurrence that leaves me feeling a little jaded. I am supposed to be going to school here to learn Japanese, but instead I find myself meandering about, drinking way more than I ever have before in my life, or eating too many snacks and fooling around with my friends (both Japanese and foreign).

It's been a lot of fun, but I think I need to make the conscious decision to a) stop eating so much crap and drinking (I'm developing quite the excessive gut :X) and b) speak in Japanese and crack down on my studies. Not that my grades are bad or anything, but I really need to absorb what I'm supposed to be learning.

In other news, it's Fall in Japan! Coming from a part of California where seasons are nearly nonexistent, I have never experienced more beautiful leaves in my entire life. I spent a few days in the mountains last week, and the leaves were really rich in oranges, yellows and reds. The weather is also colder than I'm used to, so I'm learning how to layer and bundle up appropriately.

I keep wondering when I'll have to bear through waves homesickness. I had a bit of anxiety at the beginning of my stay, but I'm pretty accustomed to my life here already. It may sound kind of strange, but I find myself having a hard time remembering what my daily life was like back home. The idea seems foreign, disconnected as if it was a really long time ago. My heart aches for certain things from home, events or people that induce feelings of longing... but I never ponder too long on them. I know I'll be home again before I know it, or that we'll be in contact soon (thank god for Internet, really).

From my desk I look out my window at night and twelve stories below there's the dull roar of Shinjuku (students cheering, cards trolling on down the road, salesmen shouting to buy their wares), that Tokyo cacophony, resplendent lights glittering out in the distance below. Sometimes I find it hard to believe that I am where I am, that somehow I managed to uproot and chuck myself on a plane bound for the other side of the world without a backwards glance. But hey, I'm here aren't I? And I'm doing just fine.

Anyway, I'm not really sure what this post was about... but there you have it - an update! C:

Braindead.

"What's wrong, JuJu?"

Despite the sudden onset of positive things going on in my life, I've recently been sent into a backlash of mental numbness. Don't get me wrong- life has been tons of fun lately, but that busyness that comes with that fun has left me little time to think. At first I thought this was sort of a good thing. I tend to get lost in thought when I'm reflecting or being introspective, and that doesn't always leave me in the best state of mind.

The other day I was trying to read a book and found myself reading the same line over and over. When I finally pushed myself to keep reading, I felt disinterested and so I moved on to another. Same reaction.

I sat and tried to think about things, but I had no relevant thoughts. Instead I felt a sort of silence pressing down, even as a spread over bread, and I immediately felt the need to get up and do something.

I know what is making me feel this way. It's my same old demon, the a-word, the one I've been struggling with since the precipice of puberty: anxiety. I have a lot of changes in my life coming up, and though on the outside I am excited and living things to their greatest extent my subconscious just won't let go of that feeling. I even fooled myself by not thinking about it, by masking it with preoccupation and laughter, but for the past couple of nights I've lied awake, thoughtless, but teeming with inexplicable thoughtless energy.

I'm happy. I'm not even too worried, on the surface, but change is both invigorating and challenging.

21st Birthday!

So this Saturday was my 21st! Wooo. I was trying to keep it low key in preparation for Vegas next weekend, but I ended up doing a lot. In the morning I ate at Las Brisas at Laguna Beach with my mother and ventured over to Tiffany's to order a necklace. I'm not usually a Tiffany's sort of girl, but I wanted to a piece from their collection and thought it would be a nice gesture to remember my parents while I'm not near home.

In the afternoon I got my nails done and then went to RA sushi for happy hour with my sister and some friends, had a few drinks (including a birthday shot that tasted oddly enough like chocolate cake), dropped by home for cake and ice-cream with the family, went to see Scott Pilgrim (it was nerdtastic, I would like to see it again!) and then headed over to a friend's get together to throw back a few more drinks and socialize. It was a really fun birthday, and despite it being my 21st, I was pleasantly tipsy all the while.

On Sunday my brother was nice enough to take me to Hondaya for some drinks and izakaya food, and he also got me two really thoughtful gifts: a much needed external hard-drive and a pair of solid black Toms I'd been pondering over for a while...though that's not to say that I didn't receive very thoughtful gifts from all of my friends and family. :)

It does not feel much different being "legal" or what have you, but it's nice to be on the same page as a lot of my friends!

大変化.

Despite the sudden onset of big changes in my life, I can't help but feel a bit over indulgent. I have been taking it easy the past couple of weeks, not working as much, going out everyday (eating out and shopping too much) and basically enjoying the month I have left in California. It has been a great summer, and the month ahead is full of big events.

First off, it's my 21st birthday this Saturday. Yay! I'm postponing celebrating till the following week, since I'll be going to Vegas for my future sister-in-law's bachelorette party. I'll probably just end up seeing a movie and going out to eat to celebrate. on the actual day.

Second, as mentioned above, my brother is getting married on September 4th. I'm really excited to be a bridesmaid and participate in all the wedding festivities and events during these upcoming weeks. Of course, I'm happy for my brother as well, who has been with the same girl for eight plus years now. I cannot think of a more deserving couple.

Third, I leave to study in Tokyo for a year on September 13th. Part of me is dying with excitement, the other part of me wants to cling onto my home and never leave. Not having the funds to come home during my short winter vacation doesn't help with the anticipatory homesickness, either. I hope I'll be able to visit my friend in Taiwan or my family in the Philippines for Christmas.

That said, this blog will probably shift to more of a "JULIE'S ADVENTURES IN JAPAN!" feel. I redid my layout, and the sub-caption 樹里の世界 means "Julie's World" in preparation for this.

33 more days. I fidget unremittingly at the thought.

Watching.

"Things outside you are projections of what's inside you, and what's inside you is a projection of what's outside. So when you step into the labyrinth outside you, at the same time you're stepping into the labyrinth inside."

Instead of the cliche mental image of a stone or hedged maze, spirals of overgrown blades of grass come to mind when I read this line. It is probably influenced from the story itself, but I feel that way when I picture myself in a metaphorical self-labyrinth. Wandering aimlessly towards the center, some parts dry and barren while others are overgrown, walls shifting and changing... There's something watching me - I catch glimpses of a figure through blade gaps, its hair the same as mine, skin the same as mine, but its eyes dark and brooding and feral. It follows close but not too close and I want to tell it to go away, to leave me alone, but it knows that at times I get weak and then it can pounce, dominate, relinquish and return.