4/3: Fasten seatbelt! Turbulence doki-doki!

[Transcribed from trip journal]

This morning, I had breakfast (scrambled eggs, Pocari Sweat, ham, and two slices of toast with that phenomenal blueberry jam) and then returned to my room to pack.

When I met up with everyone in the lobby, Phil said, “Hey, [CQ], what’s up?” He squinted and read the front of my shirt and said, “Dude, that shirt is wicked! I gotta read it again.” So he did, and then he said, “Man, that is just awesome. I could read that shirt all day.”

“Pervert,” I said fondly.

Our native guide/translator Hori walked us to the subway station, and then he bowed deeply and said goodbye. We all clapped and thanked him for his hard work, and he waved as he walked away. I loved Hori, not just because he had a fun name to say, but because he was simply awesome. I swear, these tour guides don’t get paid nearly enough to deal with the likes of Dawn Weiner and Tee-Hee (a really sweaty, loud, irritating Sailor Moon freak who kept asking Hori rapid-fire questions using unusual words and slang and getting mad when he didn’t understand), and they’re always so patient and kind.

When the train left the station, I put on my iPod Shuffle and rested my chin on my hand as I looked out the window. The first song to come on was Bonnie Pink’s “Last Kiss”, and I actually misted up as I watched the scenery go by. It was hard to believe my wonderful trip was over, and all that remained was a very long flight.

Fuck.

To take my mind off it, I composed the following list.


COOL JAPANESE STUFF THAT I WISH WE HAD TOO


*Heated toilet seats. Yeah, there are people in the US that have heated toilet seats, but they’re rich. I firmly believe that all Americans have the inalienable right to warm buttcheeks.

*Safe, clean, reliable mass transit.

*In both hotels, when I got out of the shower, the bathroom mirror was fogged up with the exception of one perfect fogless square. Of course, I had to wonder why they didn’t just make the whole thing fogless, unless the maids were doing the bar soap trick on one patch of the mirror, which just blew my mind. The borders were somewhat uneven, lending credibility to that theory, so if the fogless mirror does not actually exist, then I want a Japanese maid to do the bar soap trick on my bathroom mirror for me every night. And I want her to be young and cute and wear a uniform like the girls at e-Maid did. And she must fawn over me. She doesn’t have to be sincere or anything, as long as I believe she’s sincere. Make it so.

*Haagen-Dazs crispy caramel ice cream sandwiches. Orgasm in a wrapper.

*This one’s kind of hard to explain, but in both hotel rooms, once you set the alarm on the clock, a tiny window popped up at the bottom, underneath the current time, showing an icon of a bullhorn with wavy lines, to show that it was on, and what time it was set for. This is such a vast improvement over my alarm clock, which forces me---the OCD poster girl---to press a button repeatedly to make sure it’s actually on and set for the proper time. Also, it had a reverse button as well as a forward button, which mine does not. Genius!

*Several different flavors of Kit Kat bars. I didn’t see the lemon cheesecake ones, dammit, but I had a white chocolate one that was pretty damn good. I wasn’t brave enough to try the pomengranate one.

---

Once we reached the airport, there was a flurry of panic as two of my fellow travelers realized they had lost their return tickets and as several others realized they had to reorganize all their shit because they had far too much to carry on. When my stuff went through security, the guard asked if she could look through my suitcase, and I said yes...only to cringe in horror as she held up the copy of "Young Animal" (a porno comic that says on the cover, in English, "Everything but animal!") I'd bought as a joke souvenir for G. She repacked my suitcase neater than I had, though, so I guess it all worked out okay.

The flight itself was probably the most turbulent I've ever been on, and I was on a plane that got struck by lightning once, so that tells you something. The crew was in the middle of serving dinner and had to put the carts away and strap in. I tried in vain to enjoy my meal (the same delicious spread they had last time I flew Thai Airways: steak, potatoes, cha-soba, cake, rolls, crackers and cheese, a crab and teriyaki chicken appetizer, salad, and as much tea and/or wine as you wanted) but I was having a hell of a time cutting my steak, so I sat back, tried to keep my tray from falling into my lap, and waited for it to pass.

When meal service resumed, the stewardess asked if I wanted a refill on my red wine, and I gratefully accepted. Jared, the fellow traveler next to me, said, "It's none of my business, but are you even old enough to be drinking?"

I stared at him to see if he was mocking me, and finding no hint of such a thing, I said, "Um, how old do you think I am?"

"Uh...low twenties?"

I beamed. "I love you."

"Wow, is that all it takes? Wish I'd known that at the beginning of the tour."

Other than the great meal, the bad turbulence, and the unexpected compliment, it was a pretty uneventful flight. I got up every few hours to walk around the cabin in hopes of staving off DVT, I slept, I started a book so shitty (The Pact by Jennifer Sturman) that I couldn't bring myself to finish it, I listened to my iPod. It went by pretty fast, actually.

We landed at LAX a little after 10AM and went through customs. Phil was standing near me in line, and he said, "Man, that turbulence was off the fuckin' hook! I was trying to eat and it was like trying to cut a steak on the back of a fuckin' wild horse or something."

Once everyone had collected their suitcases and gone through the customs rigamarole, we all scattered. I didn't get a chance to say goodbye to anyone, since almost everyone was racing to catch a connecting flight, and that made me sad.

I walked out into the beautiful California sunshine to catch a shuttle to the hotel where I was meeting K, and to my delight, I saw Joe waiting for a cab. I yelled, "Joe!" and he turned around and waved, saying, "I better see you at Anime Expo this year! You keep in touch!"

When I got to the hotel, I called K's cell to let her know I'd gotten in a little early. She said she'd just dropped Rick off and that she'd meet me in the restaurant, and asked if I could order her a quesadilla. So I went in there and ordered her food and a French dip sandwich for myself, and I could tell the waiter thought I had an "imaginary friend" or something, so I was glad when she showed up!

After we'd finished our meal, I paid and asked the cashier to validate the parking ticket, but she said her machine was broken and to go up front. So I waited in a line full of angry people (apparently a couple of flights were cancelled), got the ticket stamped, and K and I went outside and I gratefully tumbled into her car.

Buuuuut...

When K pulled up to the gate and put the ticket in, it said "Voided" on the display. "What the hell?" She tried again, and got the same result, so I went back inside, marched past the unruly crowd, and got the ticket restamped. Came back outside, same thing happened.

K stared at me as my hands clutched into fists. "Are you okay?"

"Remember how you said you've never seen me truly angry?"

"Yeah..."

"Oh, you're about to see it. You're about to see it hardcore."

Seriously, I almost never get really angry, and I felt like the top of my head was about to come off. Let's do some math!

Crowded subway ride + 3-hour train ride + 11-hour bumpy flight + impending one-hour car trip + sore shoulders + rapidly approaching jet lag + sadness at leaving Japan x Holiday Inn's moronic desk clerk = homicidal CQ.

I stormed out of the car and began yanking on the automatic gate arm, yelling, "Lift up, you cocksucker! You fucking piece of fuck! Fuck you!"

And lo, it lifted.

I don't know if they saw me inside and were afraid to have me come back in or what, but whatever the cause, I didn't care. I got back in the car and passed out within ten minutes.

When we finally arrived at the Happy Ranch, I took a whiz, loved up Sneakers, left messages at G's, my brother's, and Daddy-O's to let them know I got back safely, and I retreated to my room for ten hours in a vegetative state.

I really miss Japan, but at least I had an incredible time, and I've got my memories and my 200+ pictures to tide me over until I can get back there. But it's also good to be back in the US, where my friends and family and NS are, where I can communicate without a guidebook and elaborate hammy gestures, and where my wonderful enormous comfy bed is. Man, you'd think with all their technological innovations, the Japanese could invent a comfortable bed.

Preferably a heated one.

With vibrating attachments.

And a Japanese maid.

Make it so.