Yamanote Love

This is a story of true love. It’s a story of two young sweethearts in the midst of budding intimacy. The kind of heart-warming romance you find on a train in Tokyo late on a Saturday night. A tale of unadulterated devotion.

After a mouth-watering steak at the Outback Steakhouse in Shibuya on Saturday night the girls and I boarded a slightly packed train to head back to the Palazetto palace. I couldn’t help but notice a kindly young gentleman helping a slightly inebriated Miss onto the train to stand directly behind me. I noticed them again as he gently caught her before her legs gave out from beneath her and watched as he adoringly held her up. As I went back to standard train practice of scoping the carriage for talent, I was drawn back to the loving couple behind me just as she proceeded to retch the entire liquid contents of her stomach. But all I saw was romance. This boy was a keeper. He swiftly covered her mouth in order to catch the projectile and protect fellow commuters from the onslaught, all while simultaneously holding her upright. He spent the rest of the ride apologising profusely to surrounding passengers and tenderly wiping the vomit from his darlings face and hair. Meanwhile I was breaking my neck to ensure my favourite skirt had escaped the affair unblemished.

That is, true love. The man put himself in the line of fire for his woman. A man like that young gem is hard to find. I just hope she appreciates him in all his glory because if she doesn’t marry him, I will. He might come in handy one night coming home from the local.

Catch up

Alright, so its come that time. It’s been a while since I had the time, energy and motivation to blog so here it is. I’m having a few time management issues at the moment. My biggest problem is work. It’s totally getting in the way of my social life. I’ve done far too much since I last wrote and I can’t remember what I’ve done. Throw a baseball game, my friends theatre production, my mums 10 day visit to Japan (which totally warrants a blog of its own but I am too lazy and a bad daughter), more than a few raucous nights out, a trip to Hakone, a little karaoke and a boyfriend in there and you’re pretty much up to date.

Last month I worked 6 days a week so the one day I did have off was spent sleeping, cleaning and shopping. Which would mean I am officially Japanese. But I have recently had my days off changed to Saturday/Sunday, which has opened up a whole new world to me. Having a proper weekend is a little dangerous because it means I can go out on both Friday and Saturday nights as opposed to only Saturday nights.

So I’ll ease back into blogging gently, I’m going to have a Pimms on the roof with my gorgeous flat mate. Stay tuned for “The complexities of intercultural relationships”, “New Boyfriend #17” and “what the fuck am I doing with my life” blogs. Over-and-out x