fatalist
NOOOOO!!!! I'VE BEEN JAPANIZED!!!!!!
Why? WHY does today suck so much?

Out of the million things on my list to do on my day off, I have about half done, I've still spent the whole day busy, I didn't even get to the gym and I'll probably be working on random $h!t until midnight anyway.

But at least one entertaining thing happened that's worth writing about. My hair. They took my hair.

I left the house about two hours after I wanted to, bought a few things in Shinjuku and then hurried to Baba so I might have time to get a haircut before my English lesson. I had planned to go to the Japan Travel Bureau office in Shinjuku station this morning but I didn't have time. Probably a good thing because when I looked for it later today, it wasn't where I thought it was.

As is, I had about an hour and one flier that entitled me to a free haircut at a beauty school near Baba station. You know, eh, I figured I'd give them a shot because if they fucked it up too bad I could just pay someplace to fix it anyway. Well, by the time I get there, I have about 1/2 hour free for the cut. Never really takes longer than that in the states... but I should have figured... THIS IS JAPAN AFTER ALL.

The woman understood perfectly well that I needed to go by 2:30 but still had some routine she felt it neccesary to complete, including a full shampoo/condition AFTER she cut my hair and even though it was 15 minutes past when I needed to leave. She would have given me a shoulder massage too had I not told her to cut it out and left.

It would have been relaxing. Would have, if I'd had more time, as is the same with ever exasperating stupid &^$ing thing here. Would have, if I hadn't already been aware what she had done to my head.

It's not so bad. I told her to take off about 3cm. I also told her to layer it a little. A little, I said. I didn't suspect anything until I noticed the interesting sensation of what seemed to be her combing the back of my head after she trimmed me. Hmm, that's a nice feeling, thought I, I wonder what she's doing back there. Thank you, subconscious. One should never think that particular thought in a doctor's office, hair salon or piercing parlor, I have learned. And no matter how Zen I am sometimes at letting the end results be what they may be, I was still horrified to find out that she was, in fact, hacking at my hair with what appeared to be a saw-blade butter knife to give me the JAPANESE version of layers... which involves fraying the hair into nearmullet and probably causing irreparable damage.

But, like I said, it's not so bad. I probably saved myself with that "sukoshi dake" (a little only). I'm just angry I there was nothing I could have done or said to figure it out beforehand. My hair is white person hair and well-treated at that, so I look fine. What frustrates me is that the end result took off a lot more than 3cm and will grow out funny due to the god-awful-fashion-victim layers. Right now my hair probably appears about the same as it did when I got it cut before I left Eugene. Which is... eh... fine. And since I'm not planning on getting it cut again here, it should be nice and long again by the time I leave.

AAAGH. And I'd hoped so much to be able to braid it soon. I'll have to wait forever now. NOOOOOOOOOooOOoOO.

My hair. My beautiful, long, blonde hair. My American hair. I suppose, you know, when in Rome. But no. If I ever find a pair of those pointy shoes in my room and learn *I* bought them, I'm shooting myself in the fucking face.

I'm not sure whether that's sarcasm or truth. I've already bought Japanese shirts, boots and purse. A coat is next. The hair is just hair though. As much as it irks me, it will grow back fast.

So, yes, I could leave it at that, but the story of my irritation continues. I was also 20 minutes late for my English lesson because of my haircut. And of course the woman knew and asked me "jikan daijoubu?" (is your time ok?) and I answered her yes and smiled. Because this is Japan.

I wasted $2 on the bus to get to my lesson a little faster. Then ran from the bus stop and scraped about half the skin off my left knuckle dodging some knock-kneed high-heeled fashion-victim tottering down the street. Because this is Japan.

My lesson was fine anyway, although I momentarily considered homicide or suicide if I'd lost my clients because of that beauty school ... woman. Afterwards I still felt like falling over dead from emotional exhaustion so I decided not to go to the gym and even though all I really wanted was a hot latte, it wasn't right to be both lazy AND fat so I just walked back to the station.

I was going to look into working at a bar near Baba today but when I got there at 5, it still hadn't opened. And I can't imagine any part-time work that starts after 6PM doing anything but killing me slowly. But I may be sitting in for an artist in her sculpture studio starting this weekend. Any work is good work, really. But I don't want hours and contracts at this point.

I must be doing better though, because even though today sucks, I don't really care. I was even humming and whistling on the way back to the station when I should have been berating myself for missing my workout.

The truth is, my "ugh" feeling is just normal now, which means that in the grand scheme of things the "up" will just seem MORE up. I've also learned that going with the flow means that I should stop giving a shit about getting everything done and even being on time with what I do get done. If it needs to get done, it will get done. If money needs to come, it will come. If God decides to strike me dead tomorrow, so be it.

I can't see the future and I need to stop trying so hard to plan every minute of it down to perfect detail. As this place is proving, I can't even predict what to expect five minutes from now.

So I'm fine with crappy days. Because they happen sometimes. Or even a lot. But that's OK... it doesn't matter if I study. It doesn't matter if they ruined my hair. It doesn't matter if my hand hurts. It doesn't matter if I work out or not. If I choose to do something because I think I can see how it will end, I will only find that I am wrong.

Goodbye Cassandra complex. Hello fatalism.

But I'm still pissed off about my hair. You know what got me through the day though? Japanese old people. They may be slow but damn are they cute. Even with terrible osteoporosis and such, they're just so... classic. My bus was full of them this morning. And what's even better than old people in general is old men who smell pleasantly of coffee. I had my very own coffee smelling man sitting next to me today. And it kept me humming even through it all.

Thursday, here I come!