Hairdresser on Fire

I'm not sure what's happening in America right now but I'm assuming that television sets across the nation are inundated with memorial specials for the most important political event of Mr. Bush's career, that which he so affectionately refers to as "nine eleven". I'm also assuming that the major news networks are repeatedly showing some of those really distasteful images and video clips of the disaster in lieu of a more dignified memorial.

Well, here in Japan, it's election day. In case you haven't heard, this election is quite possibly the most important in the history of the postwar Japanese state. Due to some rather radical moves made by longtime Prime Minister Koizumi in conjunction with his plan to privatize the Japanese Post Office (the world's largest bank, in case you weren't aware), his Liberal Democratic Party is facing the first real threat on its power in over half a century of almost uninterrupted control. Anyhow, the normally politically apathetic Japanese are now faced with a significant decision, the outcome of which will effect everything from the hot topic of Japanese foreign policy towards China and Taiwan to the status of foreign government workers like myself. As a matter of fact, one of the parties running in this election is making the expulsion of foreigners from Japan a part of their platform. Charlie believes that this party may have parked their annoying campaign van in the parking lot of his office so that they could broadcast their nationalist message over loudspeakers to the people inside. People are really getting worked up about this election, with reactions ranging from cautious excitement to the the downright bizarre.

Well, I figured that there was no better way to exercise my rights as a non-citizen than by getting a haircut. I have been needing a haircut rather desperately for a few weeks now but I didn't really know where to go. Charlie recommended the salon in the mall to me, so I decided to give it a try. I went in and despite the fact that I was clearly the only dude in there, I asked for an appointment and was told to come back about half an hour or so later. When I came back, I was ushered to the back of the salon where they washed my hair. They put a little towel over my face which was quite nice as I'd rather not have to awkwardly stare up at the person who is washing my hair for five minutes. They also put a little pink towel around my neck and covered me with a smock. I could almost feel the last shred of my tattered masculinity give way. After this, I was taken to the stylist who set a stack of magazines on the table in front of me to read while she cut my hair. One of them was a porno. I told her simply not to cut it too short and after confirming with me how short I wanted the front, she set to work.

Since my hair is generally pretty low maintenance, it's kind of rare that I get a bad haircut. Thus, I generally grade a haircut based on how much time the stylist spends and how willing they are to go back and fine tune. In that respect, this may have been the best haircut I have ever received; she slaved over my head for more than half an hour, meticulously cutting, texturizing, clipping and shaving. Afterwards, I was taken back to the sink where they washed my hair a second time. Then, another woman came and sprayed some cold stuff on my head and proceeded to give me a head massage. The massage basically consisted of her punching me in the back of the head for five minutes but I felt like a million bucks afterward. Lastly, the stylist put some sort of gel or something in my hair and carefully and deliberately disheveled it for me. The final product:

I'm so ashamed that I took a picture of myself in the mirror but I couldn't think of any better way to do it. I feel like I need a fucking Myspace or something now.

Afterwards, I went to the novelty store where I fed my increasingly unhealthy obsession with Japanese toy collecting. If you're not familiar with Japanese toys, many small toys come in what is called "blind box" packaging, that is to say, you cannot see what the toy inside of the box looks like until you buy it. Most of these boxes have pictures on the side of the different toys you might find inside and some even list the probability of getting each toy. However, some blind boxes have no pictures of the toys whatsoever. I really like buying blind box toys despite the possibility of getting two of the same toy; it makes it a lot more fun and exciting to go home and open them up. Anyway, all of the toys I bought today came blind boxed.


I'm really excited about the last one, it comes from a series that immortalizes in plastic important moments in the history of one Mario the plumber.

Afterwards, I went to the supermarket to stock up on munitions. I found some things that I'm almost positive are the equivalent of regular hamburger buns, so I decided to make burgers tomorrow. I asked someone working there where the teriyaki sauce was and he gave me a really confused look. He then led me to the sauce aisle and pulled a bottle of takoyaki (octopus ball) sauce off of the shelf. "No, teriyaki," I told him. He just returned a confused look. "You mean, like what you put on a hamburger?" he asked. "Yes, that's correct." He then stood there looking awfully confused and mumbled quietly for a few seconds before pulling out his phone, which he proceeded to stare at. Teriyaki sauce is Japanese right? Why should this be so confusing? "It's okay, you don't have it. Thank you," I said and walked away. Halfway down the aisle I spotted a bottle of teriyaki sauce and placed it in my cart. About 10 minutes later, as I was just getting in line to pay, the same guy ran up to me and said "Here it is, I found it". Thanks, buddy.


Remember how I ate a fish head at that barbecue? Of course you do. Well, this is what they look like, pre-cooking. I briefly considered buying a few to feed my evil twin who I keep chained up in the basement but quickly decided against it. He doesn't deserve that good.


Some eggs in Japan have individual expiration stickers on them. I think that this is a terrific idea.


We are apparently getting a Caprisiosa in the Shimoda Mall. Other JETs will be very jealous of me as this is without a doubt the most beloved/overhyped/hated restaurant in the Aomori JET community. The pizza is really good, it's just a bit expensive is all.


I have been watching the development of this building with keen interest for some time. It used to be an expensive home furnishing store just outside of the mall but they closed down about a week or two ago. They then painted the building blue and yellow which got my hopes up that it might become something cool. After a few days the enigmatic word "GIGA" appeared on the building in tall yellow letters. What could it mean? The following day "OUTLET" appeared underneath. Today, as I biked past, I was greeted by a disappointing revelation. The text under Giga Outlet reads "Home Interiors". Oh cruel fate.