Train Delay

Last Sunday, Sandy, Naomi and I caught the train home after a day out Ikebukuro. Sand and I, in a particularly lazy/hung-over Sunday mood decided to stay on the train one stop to go grab a video at the local store. But unfortunately our carriage didn't make the station and we stopped just short. We waited for a while confused by the Japanese announcements over the speakers, complaining about the inconvenience. After a while people started walking through the train because the first few carriages were at the platform, so we followed suit. When we got to the front people were milling about watching something outside the windows, curiosity got the better of me so I had a look too, just in time to see them covering the body of a suicide victim. We stood in shock as we watched them carry it away and I wondered why it took 10 fire trucks to clean up the mess. Naturally this lead to discussion about the value of life in Japan, total confusion as to how one person’s life could get so bad they felt jumping in front of a train was their only option and some internet research on suicide in Japan:

In Japan over 32,000 people per year commit suicide (3 times higher than the nations road death tolls) victims are predominantly overworked or financially troubled “salarymen” although recently there has been a rise in youth suicide with the advent of “suicide clubs” online. So, with an average of 88 people per day knocking themselves off there are systems in place to minimise delay. Our train was held up approximately 25 minutes before carrying the disgruntled passengers on their way. This delay however has considerable ramifications. Tokyo has a population of over 12.5 million people. 90% of those people use the train as their primary method of transport.

*The financial cost to train companies of just one suicide can be astronomical. For example, in January 1999, a businessman jumped in front of a train at JR Harajuku Station. He was seriously injured, but survived the experience. His suicide attempt halted 26 JR Yamanote Line trains, delayed 54 others and caused the temporary suspension of operations on the entire Yamanote and Saikyo lines. It was estimated that this one single suicide attempt disrupted the journeys of about 160,000 commuters.

It seems trivial to bitch about the train being delayed when the cause was human demise, but one late train here can cause chaos. Approximately 3.5 million people pass through Shinjuku station per day. Peoples here time their days to the minute, they are stressed and overworked, I watch people having anxiety attacks on the platform when the train is one minute late let alone half an hour. If they want to lower the suicide rate then they should start by reducing the insane amount of overtime companies expect their employees to do. But anyway, somebody has to pay for this mortal inconvenience. The families of suicide victims are charged somewhere between 90 thousand and 1 million Australian dollars for delay and clean up costs.

So my advice to those terminally depressed: If it’s all getting too much take the day off work, go see a professional, do the adult thing and sort your shit out. Don’t be a cunt and jump in front of a train for innocent bystanders and railway staff to scoop up your sloppy remains off the tracks. Nobody wants to see that shit.

*J. Sean Curtin (Fellow, GLOCOM)
http://www.glocom.org/special_topics/social_trends/20040319_trends_s72/index.html

Authors note: Apologies for the absence of anything light-hearted, fun or boozy in the above blog, oh and also for the word cunt… sorry, but they are.

and now Brock?

What is going on Australia? The big man is culling our great nations hero’s.

The Loss of an Icon

I think I speak for all Australians tonight when I say I was devoed to hear the tragic news that Australian Icon Steve Irwin was killed today in a freak sting ray accident. It is a sad day for Australia.

The End of an Era

It is with deep regret and sorrow that I bring you this tragic news. On Wednesday, the 23rd of August 2006, Andrew-chan is leaving Japan and everything in it. Andrew has been my loyal partner in crime since my very first day in Japan. We met at the airport and never looked back. Andrew I took on Tokyo the only way we knew how – drunk. I think we have both aged about 10 years in the 18 months we have been here but I think we also finally started to grow up. Last night we celebrated his farewell at a Shabu Shabu restaurant in Shinjuku and actually caught the last train home, a concept previously unheard of.


I’m devoed that he is leaving me, but on the upside he’s returning home to Sydney, which means we will be reunited for more shenanigans in the not too distant future. It means I have to wait until Christmas for long discussions over pints of beer about the state of our modern lives, for elaborate/inappropriate photo shoots, for random acts of chaos, impromptu dance routines and general mayhem.

Thank you for being here babe, Japan just would not have been the same without you. I love you lots and will see you soon.

Cue the cheesy montage.





Click below for a little impromptu interview that Andrew did with Alex and I in an Izakaya recently.

New Boyfriend #17

It’s the episode that had to come. I’ve been a little reluctant to write about my new boyfriend for fear of jinxing the budding relationship. But I’m pretty sure I got him in the bag now so I’ll spill the beans.


My boy is a J-giant. I don’t know how I did it, but I managed to find a Japanese man who wears bigger jeans than I do. The man is built because he’s a Pro-American Football player in Tokyo, which when you think about it really shouldn’t carry that much weight. But I still love to boast about it, regardless of the fact that I have never even seen an American Football game, even on TV and I still don't know what colour his team is. He thinks that I’ll love him more if I actually see him play a game.


Ishi is probably the most un-Japanese Japanese man I have met. He doesn’t have a shy bone in his body (unlike me). Last night at Andrew’s Sayonara party he gave me a quick rundown of his day (that’s me with the incredibly goofy laugh in the background but I couldn’t help it, he was too cute):



I broke an unwritten rule the other day when I suggested that he get English lessons (because I am starting Japanese). His response: “I’m not want to”. And you can’t argue with that. This coming from a man who told me Star Wars was his English teacher. Which actually makes perfect sense when you listen to him speak. His sentence structures resemble Yoda’s, maybe lacking the wisdom.



Anyway, he’ll probably be co-starring in my blog from now on, so soon you’ll get sick of hearing about him. His name is Ishi, stage name is Rock and he’s a beautiful man and my own personal rockstar.

Happy Birthday Naomi

It was Naomi's birthday on the 9th of June, which means I am about 2 & a half months late posting these pics. But better late than never ne? We went out to an Izakaya in Shibuya and then went on to a club that I have since forgotten the name of but it was a wicked night with B52's a plently and Naomi looked even more like a princess than usual. Love you girl x x

Me, Sandy and Hallie

At the club

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

3-1 AUSTRALIA

On Monday night three very lovely ladies donning an abundance of Australian paraphernalia sat and watched a soccer game in a sleepy little Japanese bar near their home. Given their celebrity status in the town they received prime positions directly in front of the TV. They sat meekly for 84 minutes quietly sipping their Moscow Mules, brainstorming which players would make the cut for the ultimate dream team based solely on sex appeal and striving to unravel the enigma that is the offside rule, before conceding defeat, deciding that some things are better left unknown.

Then in the 84th minute they were blessed with a face saving goal permitting them to show up at work the next day while the next 10 minutes saw them screaming in elation. The celebrations ran into the night with drinks on the house, completely rational conversations in fluent Japanese and concluding with the creation a few new cocktails with the barman at 4am.

It would have sucked to be one of my students this week.

My 25th Birthday

On Saturday the 20th of May I celebrated my 25th birthday for the 3rd time. I felt like the luckiest girl in Japan surrounded by my best friends and my mum to celebrate my favourite day of the year. We had a fabulous night at the Christon Café in Shinjuku with gourmet delights and Moscow Mules a plenty. Mum scored some major brownie points with my mates when she proved she can still drink like the rest of us and possibly gave some insight as to where I got my talent. Upon entering the dining hall we were curious as to why they would stick us in the upstairs corner, however towards the end of the evening it became obvious with foreigners screaming across the room, elaborate photo shoots, Andrew’s beautifully choreographed dance routines and a small brawl as a finale. It was a wicked evening with wicked friends, sitting at that table it dawned on me that it was finally ok to be turning 25 because I know what life is about. Thank you for a perfect birthday guys, I love you x x x

Japanzine

I’m pretty slow these days, but big up Japanzine for publishing my Board Bunnies blog in the April issue of their magazine. Thanks also for sending me a couple of copies because I was too slow to get my own. You guys rock. Now that my blog has been published I like to consider myself a celebrity. I’m currently considering selling the movie rights to my blog because it would naturally be a box office hit but my only concern is who would play the lead? What actress could possibly pull of that delicate balance that is the Booze Hag? Frankly, I’m just not convinced anyone is up for the part…

Min did Tokyo

Because I am a slacker, I am 2 weeks too slow reporting on Min’s trip to Tokyo. But anyway, Min came to Tokyo! Min came to Tokyo for 5 days on her way to her new life in London and it was wicked to see her. Min urged me to partake in such cultural activities I would otherwise never have embarked, for example a tour of the National Diet Building (Japan’s Government House). We signed up for the tour under the promise of English headphones only to be denied at the point of no return but it turned out to be fabulous. Min learnt something and I had fun mock translating the tour guide for an hour. We appreciated culture a little closer to home when we went to nomihodai (all-you-can-drink) at the Shinagawa Prince Hotel 39th floor bar, which for me was the highlight of the trip. The view was spectacular, the service amazing, the cocktails sweet and the company priceless. It felt like another world sitting up there gazing over one of the biggest metropolis in the world, for some reason I was reminded of sitting at my computer playing Sim City in my sleepy old Cambridge days. Min was lucky enough to experience one of Tokyo’s more prestigious events, an Anton all-star party, which was sadly the last because it was his farewell. Anton rocks for all kinds of reasons but mostly because he introduced to a special big man I’ll boast later.




Having Min here gave me the opportunity to see Tokyo through tourist eyes again. I remembered how daunting everything was when I first got here. How difficult it was and how alien I felt. It was good to do some sight seeing, but it was great to spend time with an old friend. It was awesome to have her here and I know she is going to love life in London. Thanks Mindle, you rock.

Nihongo Wakarimasen

Before leaving Australia I set several goals for myself while in Japan. Number one was to learn Japanese. Number two was to save some money. Number three was to make great friends and have a fabulous time. The last one I have completely in the bag and I have managed to make a slight dint in my mountain of debt. But I have now been in Japan for one year and still can’t speak a word of Japanese. I’m not exactly sure why I am broadcasting this shameful fact but I felt the need to confess. In my defence I speak English all day at work, my flatmates are Commonwealth citizens and my Japanese friends just laugh when I attempt to speak their tongue. But not only can I not speak Japanese, my own English ability is getting progressively worse. I find myself saying things like: “yes, the roads are very crowded today”, “many, many people go to shopping in Shibuya”, “Maybe ok” and I’ve lately been referring to my weekends as “special holidays”. My vocab is wasting away because my brain can only process one language. For every Japanese word I learn, an English word slips away. I speak slower than a stroke victim. I have developed a vacant stare when there is talk of anything intellectual in the office and to me ‘current affairs’ are which J-boys my friends are dating this week. And I refute the theory that any of this is a result of excessive cocktail consumption chipping away at my brain cells. It’s just a simple fact of J-life. しょうがない。

12 months in Japan

Today marks one year in the land of the rising sun for me. I spent the day pondering exactly how that may have happened, but like every foreigner in my situation, I still can’t work it out. At times I feel like I have been here forever and forget how easy it is to function in the western world, but mostly everything is still as shiny, new and confusing as a Louis Vuitton bag in a display case. I often wonder how long it would take in this wacky country for anything to feel real because I still feel like I am on vacation.

In Nippon I live in a bubble. But a glorious one. Sure, I’ve learnt how to order my food at lunchtime without getting the double-extreme ultra-pork value set. I’ve mastered the train system and I can even stand peacefully on a packed commuter without wanting to punch the walls. I’ve stomached schools of raw fish, eaten creepy sea creatures and even raw horse, but strangely, still can’t bring myself to eat Natto (fermented soy beans) or anything that is still moving.

I’ve sung my heart out at Karaoke. Subjected myself to shopping torture in Shibuya. I penetrated the hideous crowds of glittering J-girls tottering about only to find that the L-size clothes may have fit me when I was eight years old but sure as hell aren’t going anywhere near me now. I’ve pushed the limits of Nomihodai (all-you-can-drink) and wondered when the establishments will realise that it’s like holding a red flag up to a bull by allowing gaijin to partake.

I’ve swum in fountains, scaled walls, frolicked in gardens and danced up a storm. I’ve drunk with tired old salary men, swapped horror stories with fellow gaijin, made mates with random strangers and accosted folk on the street. And everywhere I go I never fail to meet the most beautiful strangers each with a wicked story to tell.




I have been in Japan for one year and despite its flaws I can’t help but love the place. The past year has been an experience I will never forget. It’s had extreme highs and critical lows but never even remotely boring. I have the most gorgeous friends in the world. We live in the craziest city on earth and we know where to go to get free drinks. Why wouldn’t we love life?

Rhythm Nation

Today is the first Sunday in a long time that I've actually made it out of bed, & for what better an occasion than the Taiko Festival at Narita temple. There’s something about these drums that fascinates me. The thunderous beats are full of energy and as soon as I hear them I can’t help but smile. It was wicked to see so many people loving it today. It really is something special. As soon as I find an English speaking sensei I’m there. Totally.

Other Peoples Blogs

After recently browsing other people’s blogs, I have discovered a fundamental design flaw in my own. It’s not anonymous. I was silly enough to include my name and mug shot and because of this and the fact that my mum, grandparents and the majority of the people I know and their mums are aware of this URL it means it has to be strictly censored. I think this could be far more interesting if I only I could be blatantly honest about my drunken antics and debauchery but I think my mum still holds a faint glimmer of respect for me so I’ll continue to keep a lid on it.

It’s also quite lucky that blogging requires a number of deliberate steps and thought processes, which prevents me from drunk-blogging. Unlike my mobile phone, which has recently evolved into a weapon of mass destruction. It would probably be best if I didn't have my keitai at 4:30am after a disastrous experience in a seedy gay club in the middle of Shinjuku, because then I couldn’t call a certain big man repeatedly in tears until he came and rescued me. Censorship regulations prevent me from disclosing details but lets just say that being the sole woman in a club packed with 300 sweaty men all trying to bone each other does certain things to a woman’s psyche which is not good. Having a phone in my drunken possession is why I spent the majority of Sunday and Monday building bridges. I thinking maybe a 9 digit unlock code could be the answer but I’m open to suggestions…

Cock Festival

… No, that's not a typo.


This week my mate Chris text me and asked if I wanted to go to a cock festival on Sunday. Excitedly, I accepted the invitation “I would love to go to a rock festival!” But it wasn’t a typo. It actually was a cock festival. Due to unforseen circumstances I was unable to attend the event but Chris emailed me the evidence. Apparently it was a fertility festival, celebrating the penis. But I think it was just an excuse for a bunch of men to get their bits out in public.

Foxes in the snow

Those that know me, probably wonder where I get my buns of steel. It’s probably a number of factors, namely genetics and a strict diet and exercise regime (I drink diet coke in my vodka and I dance up a storm on a Saturday night) but probably predominantly because I am a snowboarder. I can call myself a snowboarder because I have been four days in the last month and I also think that qualifies me to be “outdoorsy”.


Andrew and I decided to throw caution to the wind and go on a holiday together again. It was a bold move but we thought that we were ready. This time we did it right. We left all alcohol at home, took responsibility for our belongings and our sexual selves and attempted to behave for 2 days.


Despite getting covered in bruises and gaining a mild concussion it was a successful weekend. I am getting much better on my board and after much coaxing from the lift-men (who again gave me lots of praise and candy) I ventured past the beginners slope. Actually I ventured a lot further and got lost in the next village. I am far more confident now, but confidence just means bigger stacks maybe a little fewer in frequency.

The end of the snow season is painfully close so I fear that I will have to hang up my boots until next year. Totes devoed its over but it was wicked while it lasted. Pretty sure that next season will be a perfect time to begin our professional careers, but for now we will just have to retire as top seeded amateurs. Loves et.

I need rocks.

Last night 4 very sexy ladies went to an all-star house party for Anton’s birthday. We love Anton because he has wicked parties, is wicked fun and knows lots of sexy J-boys. Last night we met an enormous J with huge arms and dubbed him Rocks because a) the name totally suited his gargantuan physique and b) after carefully studying his drink he declared: “I need rocks” and set off to put some ice in his drink. Rocks totally lived up to his name and rocked our world piggy backing me round the party and providing us unlimited giggles. I also devised a sexy new drink - Sho-chu and cold tea. Delicious and nutritious. After a friendly visit by the J-police, home time saw a legendary taxi hustle when our miscalculations proved there was one too many people for the cab I did a stellar blatantly obvious dive for the floor, I’m sure the driver was totally unaware of his stowaway. I would have photos to document the night had if some idiot had remembered to charge my camera so you will just have to imagine how hot we were and how big our new best friend is.

Board Bunnies

Last week I discovered my true calling in life when Sandy, Naomi and I embarked on a well-deserved winter adventure in the sexy ski-slopes of Nagano prefecture. Snowboarding is not for everyone. It requires dedication, determination and a sexy snow enseme. Equipped with one of those, we three ladies absolutely carved it up.

It was the first time I boarded, a person of lesser physical coordination and stature might endeavour to get a lesson or two but it was obvious from the outset that I was a natural and I decided to waive the trivial lesson. I boldly took my board up the lift breathing in the winter panoramas and the chilly mountain air. At the top people were sliding about with ease. I snapped on my board and attempted to get up. 15 minutes later I was still attempting to get up. Half an hour later in a fit of rage and frustration I decided to pack it in. Took off my board and watched it sail down the mountain without me. There is a little strap on a snowboard that one should tie around their leg to prevent these accidents happening, they probably tell you this in lessons. Instead the guy behind me shrieked and took off down the mountain in an attempt to capture the elusive board before it wiped out my fellow snowboarders. Alas, he was too late. It sped down taking out one unsuspecting victim and landed in the car park at the bottom of the hill, fortunately there were no major injuries because we would have looked like total bitches pissing ourselves laughing at the top. This incident would be the first in a succession of events that led us to believe the people in Nagano are among the friendliest in the world. The kind gentleman retrieved my board, carried it back up on the lift and on return immediately fixed it to my leg for me to carry the bloody thing back down the mountain in a huff. After screaming to the girls that I would see them in the fucking bar, Sandy and Naomi came to my rescue. We spend a much needed half an hour teaching me how to get my arse off the ground and I was away. I never looked back either. I’d say I’ll need a couple more runs down the beginners slope before I turn pro, but its only a matter of time.



Exhausted after our first day of tearing up the slopes we headed back to our resort to a) go for a piping hot bath and b) find the sexy young man who gave us unlimited assistance whenever we needed it. His name is Eiji and from now on we will refer to him as my boyfriend. My boyfriend worked on reception, which was very convenient and we came up with any excuse imaginable to visit him. We asked for directions, loaned his gear, took his advice, got change for the vending machine and borrowed many random items. Then of course I needed to return the many random borrowed items and then when there was nothing left to borrow I finally asked him to come drink with us. Eiji brought his snowboarding mates and their Nagano hospitality to the TV room and we sat up playing drinking games with the ridiculous amount of alcohol that they provided. PIN, PAN > PON. I was in awe when I realised that I was sitting with a celebrity, one of my boyfriend’s mates was actually the Pro-jumper that I saw during the day doing massive jumps and somersaults in the air! We managed to convince the PRO guy to give us free lessons the next day (which he did while holding an umbrella, I was impressed). This time he taught us to bend our knees but I’m sure next time he’ll move on to the jumping part.

"New York" and Eiji (bear in mind he had hat hair coz I stole his hat).

By day two we were everybody’s friend. The women wanted to be us and the men wanted to be with us and everybody wanted to help us. We were rockstars of the slopes, the lift men even gave us candy. Naomi had convinced one of our new boarding mates to let us ride the snow-mobile by ourselves. He showed us where the accelerator and the brake were and when his boss wasn’t looking we sped off up the slopes with the wind in our hair - about 10 metres up the hill before I nearly rolled it and he confiscated it. Those things are very similar to Quad’s; very difficult to turn…

Our sexy snow holiday is probably the best holiday I have had in Japan. A wicked time with fabulous friends and sexy men and there is just something about a ski wardrobe that makes everyone looks hot. And it is simply fate that our newfound snowboarding mates live right near us in Tokyo in the summer. The gang will be back together in April because snowboarding is not just a sport. It's a way of life. Rock on.