The upbeat tempo of “Travelling” by Hikaru Utada takes over… “(Traveling). Kimi wo nosete. Asufaruto wo terasu yo. (Traveling). Doko ni iru no? Korekara ga ii tokoro…” [Japanese] “(Travelling). I pick you up, lighting up the asphalt. (Travelling). Where are you? This is where it gets good…”

Two web revelations.

Last night I had a look at my stats and noticed that I have been picked up by Google’s bot (not that kinda “picked up” and not that kinda “bot”) because this page appears on searches there now. The weird thing was the speed of it, because my Friday’s post was picked up and I received a visitor via Google on Saturday! After Chris found out, it prompted some further random searching. Here are a few excerps from his discoveries:

“Haha, just got a hit for “elephant tastes like beef” =))”
“Wow, and youre on the second page of hits for “Compton bullet-holes”! You’re the man!”
“LOL, you are officially the top hit on google for “teriyaki police” hahahahaha.”

That’s just great. I definitely didn’t want to run into trouble stealing traffic from the almighty Teriyaki Police over at TeriyakiPolice.com. Officers, what can I say? I’m so sorry. ;)
I have a knack for walking into conversations and rooms at the right moment to learn things I shouldn’t, but it never happens in women’s clothes stores nor dressing rooms at fashion shows. It happens right here, in cyberspace. I like Pippa’s writing over at her page. The other day I noticed one of her pals commented and confessed to an e-crush on yours truly (note: I held a gun to no one’s head, nor did I even ask ;)). A pleasant surprise to know my blues are having an affect on people. A pain because I was stuck in my room all that day because my oversized head couldn’t fit through the door. The laundry never got done.

Today I had the day off from work to take a trip into central London with Chris for a spot of shopping and catching the fortnightly movie at the J-Embassy. 2 things I learned today (mentally scribbling in under the “Sod’s Laws” list):

1. Hats will be available everywhere and everyday, that is, until the day you decide to buy one.
Evidence: Having to go to Leicester Square, then through to Covent Garden, Tottenham Court Road, Oxford Street and Piccadilly Circus before finding a hat on Carnaby Street that will sit stylishly on Chris’ bonce.

2. Gloves will be available everywhere and everyday, that is, until the day you decide to buy a pair, on a cold day.
Evidence: Chris spoke of a time where he left the house and forgot his gloves. It was freezing, so he decided to nip into Marks and Spencers and pick up a pair. He was informed that they were “sold out.”

I really fancied eating at Misato today and partly because it had been a while, but it was closed and if we went when it opened, it would have meant eating quickly to arrive at the Embassy’s movie screening in good time. So, opted for Wagamama (Chris: {Looking at the tables and seats} “This place looks like a school dining hall“). Something I noticed that I hadn’t noticed from going there before… this time, we had two different waitresses. The first one changed over with a second halfway through the meal and I experienced a phenomenon I will call “waitress changeover shock.” Ever been in a restaurant where you are served by one waiter/waitress who’s adequate, smiles a bit and just qualifies for minimal tipping, then there’s a changeover to another waiter/waitress and you find yourself suddenly receiving dramatically better service (better eye contact, better tone, etc)? It’s weird. In this case, the waitress was about 10 times more polite, bubby and cute. Waitress changeover shock. Furthermore, this time I got a straw in my drink and Chris didn’t, but I had learned from a previous incident that I was not going to point it out this time so he could start hypothesising, like a crazy person, about my future with this waitress. At the end we received the bill and she had drawn a star with “thank you” underneath. This was too much. I’m so used to just plain old printed receipts that sometimes forget to mention the restaurant’s appreciation for my custom. So I’ve had bills that automatically thank me, but had I ever received a handwritten gesture of thanks? Nope. I was impressed. It’s the little things in life that do make a difference. This was another trinket that made me realise how much of a sucker I am for gestures such as these.

After leaving the cash to settle the bill (plus service charge), we got up to leave. The waitress had not come over yet, so I suggested we try running out of the restaurant to see how they’d react.

Chris: I will just yell “let’s peg it!” (note: I think “peg it” is a 1960s term and also an existing Pirate’s term. It means the same as “leg it”)
Me: And I’ll shout “Hurry up, before they notice!” I’ve never tried doing that before. I wonder what kind of response that would provoke. Maybe the head chef who is a big Mexican jumps out and pursues us with a meat cleaver.
Chris: They’d just run after us down the street.
Me: But how far? Perhaps a stone boulder or a huge circular slab just rolls in front of the doorway to block us in.

We decided not to attract too much attention so just walked out normally. The waitress even said “Good bye” and waved energetically to us as we left. I had no idea waitresses even had the ability to wave to customers. Are they even supposed to? You can rest assured that she was tipped well. I’ve worked in customer services roles and in retail too so know how it is. Before working in a shop I thought it would be fairly easy to stay upbeat and to keep smiling. I was wrong. I try to be cheery most of the time, but it’s difficult to do it all of the time, which is ideally what is expected of you. Maximum respect to everyone that does it for a living.

Watched the movie Hachiko at the Embassy, about a faithful Akita pedigree dog called Hachi who used to accompany his master (a Tokyo University Professor) to and from the train station; in the mornings on his way to University and in the afternoons on his way back home. It’s a true story that explains the bronze statue of a dog sitting outside Tokyo’s busy Shibuya Station, which was sculpted and placed there in his memory.

I enjoyed the film and another thing I enjoyed was watching it amongst the audience which was composed of people of different ages. I’d say most generations were represented. It’s always an experience watching films with the older generations because I like to hear their laughter during scenes in the film. Sure, they laugh at the same times as everyone else, but I like finding out about other scenes that normally do not provoke laughter from the rest of the audience. It might be as simple a thing as the way a character handles a tray, or perhaps even a slight swagger in their walk, or even the way a dog will jump around playfully. I don’t really laugh along with them because I still find these things concordant with normality. But, I’m slowly beginning to understand and pick up on the simple and little things that cheer people up and make life all the more funny. Everyone has their own set of perspectives, which change with time. Young people don’t see things the same way as the old, who are equipped with the wisdom of ages. I wonder of the things I believe in now, and if they will still be accepted years from now. Is naivety a state of mind, or a state of time?

During the afternoon, I also remembered the conversations with Yogi last weekend. For a while now he’s been thinking about possibly buying a bed with a fluorescent tube going around the outside. I love it when we have conversations about hypotheticals. Here’s the conversation between him, Sanje and myself (note: Sanje is a big guy):

Yogi: I went into the furniture store the other day and was looking around at the beds and asked one of the staff if they sold beds with fluorescent tubes going around the outside.
Sanje: What did he say?
Yogi: He said that they don’t do them.
Me: Surely it must exist though. They can’t find out or order it?
Yogi: I don’t think they exist. I might build a few for myself, and sell a few. You want one?
Me: Errr, I don’t know. I like conventional beds.
Yogi: It’ll be cool. I could make one for you that can change colour if you turn a dial, or I can make one that can simulate flames. But that would cost extra.
Me: Errr, sure I’ll buy one, but I might sell it a bit later.
Yogi: {Turns to Sanje} What do you say? You want to buy one too?
Sanje: Uh, I’d probably break it. I need a tough one.
Yogi: You could just get a tough and thick mattress for it.
Sanje: But if the bed’s made of wood I’d probably break it.
Yogi: OK, get this… I’ll make a special one for you made out of solid marble.
Sanje: Will that cost extra?
Me: Solid marble? Why not just make it using titanium?
Yogi: Because marble is classy.

The boy should have been a salesman. I want one now!