girl v. modern manners

Today's Saturday Times' article about modern manners got me thinking about my pet peeves. Having had a relatively strict upbringing I pride myself on being quite polite. However, I will admit that my high standards have been slipping. I thought reminding myself about my pet peeves will instill better habits within myself... Maybe. 

1. Tipping. There isn’t such a consensus on what is appropriate tipping etiquette in England. But I believe it should reflect whether or not you enjoyed the meal and the service. I always leave a tip but it is dependent on the service. My friend left a £5 tip on a £20 meal the other day because he didn’t want to carry round the change despite the fact that the waiters ignored us despite only 3 groups in the whole restaurant about about 5 staff. 
2.  Phones on the table at a restaurant. I may have fallen for this recently but in general I hate people putting their phones on the table at a restaurant whilst we eat. I mean, who is more important than me right now. And then it lights up and we have to pretend that isn’t your mum texting you asking what you had for dinner. Please. Unless you’re a brain surgeon your calls and texts can wait a couple of hours.
3. Whatsapp. I have a serious love/hate relationship with whatsapp. With my friends abroad I tend to have a constant ongoing conversation with them which will peak and trough depending on how social we are or whether we are commuting to work at the same time. But I hate it for many reasons. Because people can see if you have “seen” their message and therefore you feel compelled to reply and then to enter into a conversation with them. It’s like that bloody Facebook now which tells me if someone has read my message. Well thanks Facebook for making me question WHY HASN’T HE REPLIED!!!!
4. #YOLO . Do you know what? YOLO if you don’t have rent to pay but seriously I have 20 grand’s worth of student loan to pay off and more bills then Destiny’s Child. Don’t tell me to YOLO because I’ll tell you that I’m going to make enchiladas on a Saturday night and you can suck it. 
5.  Cell phones at store counters. I’ve worked in retail. And I tell you, if yapping on the phone whilst ordering your coffee or picking up a pair of jeans is the HEIGHT of rudeness. It’s like climbing on a physical pedestal and talking down to me.
6. People who get on the tube before people have got off.  Self explanatory and yet people still do it.
7. Talking of public transport, passive aggressive commuters. I am one of those people. I hate me. But muttering under your breath is doing no one any favours. And guess what, if that person will push you then that’s just because they are a douche so muttering won’t help them suddenly have an epiphany where they will become Mother Theresa. Don’t let it put you in a bad mood. It’s like sun rises and douchebags, the day will always start with both, whether or not you take it personally is up to you.
8.  Talking with your mouth full or eating messily. I do struggle with pastry like the best of us but those who eat like a hoover should really learn to aim for their mouths and talk less, if at all, when they eat. To watch meat rolling about in someone's mouth getting masticated is just vile.  If you know that you’re going to get rice in your eyebrows then order the salad.
9.  Talking about the weather. We all do it. It’s in our VEINS, we’re British! But if I have to make idle chit chat about how summer is already over I think I’d rather the earth swallow me up. Let’s get a bit controversial and mix up our “small talk” to big topics. Tell me about child soldiers, nuclear war and everyday sexism, please!

 Do you have any pet peeves you just can’t stand? And what manners matter to you in this day and age when the line between what is polite and what is not is blurred?

girl v. writing

There’s something poisonous about love that I just can’t get enough of. It entered my life a mercenary, a stampede through my heart when I least expected it. I was a lost soul that had sunk into a deep depression, dropped two dress sizes, dropped out of university and fled far away from the promising future I had always worked towards. Then I was smothered by an enchanting satyr and once I was enticed to the other side, once I had tasted love, I just couldn’t waste another day of my life without it. So I followed it. I stalked, vehemently pursued and hunted it down like prey. 

girl v. london dating

one of the best things about my new work location is that I'm 5 minutes walk from one of my favourite people in the world. Which means after work cocktails in Aqua and walks through Green Park to avoid the sweaty summer men on the tube.
Summer is approaching and we starting thinking the only thing missing in our lives is some potential double dating, summer lovin' Grease style. I want to wear my skin tight disco pants and skip around the fairground singing before we jump into a flying car and go off happily ever after. WAIT? that's not what dating is like? Japan has obviously changed me...

But it's not just her who is wondering where the hell to meet their next other half. A work colleague recently asked me: "Where do I meet people in London? I want to meet someone new but I have no idea where to start." Another went to a socialising event, like a relaxed speed dating event where people can just come to "meet new people"... Feedback said it seemed a bit forced. However, as long as I spend my Saturday nights with the same huge group of friends whose laughter takes up the whole bar I don't think we'll be meeting anyone new soon. My friend's mother chimed in with some advice; having a drink or two in a smaller group in a nice bar ass a means to start operation meet other people. Simple enough right?

So how did you meet the love of your life? Or even just the love of the month? I met one in the changing rooms of an Abercrombie and Fitch and the other on a deserted island in Vietnam. Well neither of those options seem likely anytime soon so perhaps I'll stop hanging out at the Big Chill Bar and try being open to trying new places and meeting someone new.

girl v. a new office

Even though it's holiday time, there's always a bit of work to do.. Wish I could call this my office everyday! 

girl v. island life

There's something rather sinister about relaxing on a deserted beach... book in one hand and drink in the other with only the sound of the lapping waves... and the F22 stealth fighter jets flying above you. Yes you heard right. One of the hazards (?) of holidaying on a US military base island. 

But bar the frequent air traffic the island is lazy and slow paced with few and far between going on. Like any other island. There is a distinct lack of actual PEOPLE though... adding to the creepy "I know what you did last summer" vibe. I spent the day walking around the island with no distinct direction and I saw two other people after several hours. Here in Japan, and especially on Okinawa, everyone is in their cars. Faces looked at me with shock and bemusement as I walked along the roads that led to the middle of nowhere. It is a short and sweet reminder of some great times traveling across Asia in 2011, where life was slow and days were long but enjoyable. 

The constant to-ing and fro-ing of the fighter jets and military helicopters is especially relevant at the moment. A constant, but gentle, reminder that the ever so slim chance of nuclear war currently looms over the East. A war consisting of largely rhetoric could soon amount to something more sinister. But for now I will drown out the jets with a bit of the Shins and try to think about something else other than the impending doom of the world, like where the hell is there an ATM on this island?! 

girl v. trains

I don't know how I do it, but I manage to get myself into the most awkward of situations and then seamlessly out of them once again. 

I guess some people call it luck... But I'd rather think of it as earned good fortune. Whilst karma is a word commonly thrown around, I do believe that "the universe" throws at you what you can take and that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. Have I bored you with cliches yet? 

The other day I was ambitious enough to lug 60kg of my life to the airport, and please note that I weigh a mere 50kg... I like to think I am invincible. So I made it to the train station from my apartment and I thought the hard part was over... I stood at the platform and waited for the train to come. Put one suitcase on... turned to grab the other two and to my utter horror saw the train doors close and watch my suitcase; packed with my passport, laptop and wallet, chug off into the sunset. I mouthed TOKYO! TOKYO! To the man on the train... And bolted to the next train bound for Tokyo. Except when I got there my suitcase was not. I looked up and down the platform... No sign. Perhaps he had got off at the intermediate station... I lugged the 50kg remaining of my life to the next platform... Back to Kanda... No sign. My arms started to fail me. Back to Tokyo. And as I begun to think of my life as another episode of "Locked Up Abroad" but without the drugs someone tapped my on my shoulder. I assume the feeling of being reunited with my luggage must be like reuniting with your lover after months apart. Tears streamed down my face like nobody's business and all I could do was throw my Japanese etiquette out of the window and hug this man like crazy. 

I think of my life and how lucky I am to be where I am. But sometimes, sometimes luck doesn't have anything to do with it. Sometimes life throws you those curveballs that reminds you, hey buddy, things can change in a second. And then sometimes life reminds you that it's not all cut-throat baddies who push you on the tube and don't hold the door open for you. Sometimes it's just pure, unadulterated goodness. And that's enough to get me through another elbow in my side or another queue jumper (you bastards!). 

girl v. mountains

Everyone in Sapporo is happy. 




The snow is finally melting and like little woodland creatures taking the first tentative steps outside after a long winter, so too has life here become more animated day by day.
I, however, have been writhing around in a feverish haze. I have taken long lonely walks through the mountains and train rides on old rickety carriages that skirt around the coast during the day... and spent sleepless nights tossing and turning with a cough that won't quit.
But like the little caterpillar that turns into a beautiful butterfly I have awoken from a week in the mountains a new person with dreams and ideas far above my station. But dreams drive the successful and I need them to breathe.
I needed some time where the most conversation I had in a day was ordering a murky coffee in a dingy cafe down the side streets of Sapporo. I needed time to unravel my thoughts about Tokyo and life. To let my brain decide whether I could welcome the change that has come over me.
I hear England has been hit with snow recently, but whilst it is an inconvenience in London, I feel it more refreshing here. It's a clean slate. So when the snow melts and the streets are visible below my feet once again, I too feel refreshed and washed of my winter coating of snow.

girl v. lost in translation

Tokyo wouldn't be complete without a mandatory visit to the New York Bar on the 52nd floor of the Park Hyatt. With live jazz playing, a view that simply took my breath away, and a cocktail with more punch than Manny Pacquiao, I was in heaven. With the fast paced life of work and robot cafes sometimes it's nice to enjoy the finer things in life. (Even if I could only stretch to one cocktail, well it is the end of the month!)

With three girls sitting at a bar on a Friday night the inevitable happened and we started talking to a rowdy bunch of Americans. I must have developed a new "type" since THE American. But it's a good change of pace from psychotic English men with more underlying mental issues than an episode of Girls. I side-lined the least orange looking American and got chatting. It was blissful and I got lost in the deep blue pools of his eyes, what? I mean the intellectual conversation challenged and excited me. But really, the past three months have been invigorating but tough and I welcome and relished talking to someone who made me feel like my old self again. It was also nice to get vaguely political, it's rare to talk about the UK defense budget when you are chatting up someone in a nice bar, but hey, that's the way I like to do things and that's the way you sort the wheat from the chaff, or the complex from the psychotic. However, due to me being absolutely besotted by those blue eyes and "I've just come off the set of a Ralph Lauren advert" look I definitely and completely forgot his name. I wanted to say Brad... but I think that's because I was also dreaming about Americans I wanted to roll about in the snow with and make snow angels (absolutely no euphemism). 

Normal people would find clever ways to find out their names, like, hey add me on Facebook, how do you spell your name (classic). I, however, being the awkward London girl I am came out and said: "I find you really interesting so don't be offended but I've completely forgotten your name and I feel so embarrassed." (I felt all chance of getting a date evaporate into the air and my chances of obtaining a Green card dry up.)... Luckily for me my English charm worked a treat and he didn't just bolt. Oh, and he wasn't called Brad, unfortunately.

The yanks eventually headed out to Ropponggi (but if you knew anything about Tokyo you would have chose not to) and I headed, well I headed to bed because I had work the next day and my soul is tired but we exchanged emails. Less luckily for me, the only time he was free was the next evening, when I was working until midnight (thank you Japanese working hour laws for that one) and he was flying off on Sunday. "I can't let you go without seeing me one more time." (when I read his emails I imagined an all-American voice over like I was in some sort of teen romance romantic comedy movie.) 

And so came a first for me, a 9AM breakfast date. Now, it's hard for me to admit this but I was actually nervous for this date, and that is just not normal for me. Maybe it was the American in him, or perhaps because I hadn't put together a proper conversation that didn't revolve around work or where shall we go to eat tonight for three months, or maybe it's because I have lost my mojo and am not that cool cat I once was. Whatever the reason I tossed and turned the night before and sat on the train over with little bitty butterflies in my stomach. When we met he said he'd just been for one last run around the city (my heart swooned, the most exercise London boys usually talk about is about all the running they do with their mouths). We grabbed a coffee and headed out around Shinjuku, losing our bearings amongst the dwarfing sky scrapers and joining the tramps in the park as the Sakura cherry blossom fluttered down around us. We sat and talked and walked and talked and I felt completely at ease which I haven't done in so many months. Like I said before, I felt back to my old self. I think the West Coast sun must have some added benefits, the sun always shines out of their smiles. (Or maybe it's the Crest white strips)... But the smile, the drive and ambition and the talk of having such a multi-faceted lifestyle (hikes for a first date in California), just entralls me. The more I hear about the West Coast the more determined I am to move over there, if only for a first date hike. Yes, now I was sure I was in a romantic comedy film, except the punch line was why had I met this guy on mine and his last days in Tokyo. 

But such is life readers, such is life. We shared a sweet and very innocent kiss in the hotel lobby (I'm not one for garnering an audience with my goodbyes) and went our separate ways. Him, back to the sunny west coast of the US of A and me to the deep dark depths of the ninja restaurant in Asakasa. 

So my lost in translation moment was made even more perfect with the addition of the lovely Brad, let's call him Brad. And my ever growing love for Americans was augmented even more so.

So... about that Green card...?

we found this cute 'statue' in Shinjuku, perfect Japanese photo op.

girl v. march

One day without any notice Spring struck Tokyo. Whilst I read the news and status updates about the cold and snow in the UK, I have a smug feeling inside as I look out to the sun blazing down on Tokyo and the 20C temperatures making those midnight trains home not so chilly as a few weeks ago. 

Just a few weeks ago I was visiting frozen waterfalls and now I am sitting in the park watching the Sakura. I've never been somewhere where the seasons have changed so nicely and so quickly (as in the UK our "Spring" usually doesn't hit until May...! 

The sun and Spring can certainly change a city, and I begin to love Tokyo even more. It's a shame I will have to leave so soon, however, duty calls! And who knows, I may be back sooner than I think. 

I am very excited to be taking some time out and visiting the north of Japan and Hokkaido, as well as the southern island of Okinawa soon.. I am always looking forward to writing a bit more. But until then, here are a few more photos of the past few weeks. And if you like you can follow me on instagram or twitter for more photos that are updated daily. 

girl v. robots

It's not everyday that you can say you had your dinner with a side of robots now can you? From robots wrestling with dinosaurs and Kung-fu panda, to scantily clad girls and robots dancing to Gangnam Style, the Robot Restaurant was possibly one of the most fun things I have done in Tokyo. It just completely and utterly blew my mind. So random and yet so perfect. Oh, and don't forget the giant fembots. I certainly won't..

You can follow me on instagram or twitter for more photos.

girl v. Santa Monica

I am not a vintage shop kind of girl. In fact my fashion sense as of late is an amalgamation of the brand I work for and silk shirts, so many silk shirts. (oh and trying to make those dresses I wore when I was partying in college into tops) However, I was wandering around Omote-sando and Harajuku the other day, desperately looking for Bills to have brunch (but the four hour wait put me off), and I stumbled into Santa Monica, Harajuku. A small vintage shop that stank of the 80s and was filled to the brim with American flags and college sweatshirts. Clothes hung from the walls and bowls on dressers were filled with badges from US elections of the 70s and 80s. It was super quaint and they had some really beautiful pieces that I just couldn't resist.

It always puzzles me that vintage shops can be more expensive than new clothes, after all these clothes have already lived one or two lives. However, I couldn't resist, plus trying to be as unaware of the changing exchange rate as possible, meant I just HAD to purchase.
What made me feel pretty smug was as I explored Santa Monica I was wearing my old smelly Barbour jacket because finally the weather has got a lot better and the down coat is no longer a necessity! Anyway, I saw some similar Barbour jackets, second hand mind you, retailing for nearly three times what I had paid! MUAHAHAHA I thought to myself. I'm cool and I don't even know it.

The dresses are perfect for summer in London as the last thing you want is to wear anything too short when you're clambering through the tube to get to the next destination. And yes that does mean I will be back in London shortly. I received my next assignment to work back in London for a few months so I am trying to soak up as much of Tokyo as possible, that mainly means multiple trips to the 100 yen store for all the goodies I want!

You can follow me on instagram or twitter for more photos.

girl v. starbucks

Despite all my political science education and post-structuralist views, I do find myself in Starbucks a lot. But I have to admire (?) their ability to customize their products for the market. Just like how the Ronald McDonald statue on the Koh San Road in Bangkok is bowing to accomodate for the Thai culture, so too has Starbucks with its personalized menu. 

Last month I saw the cutest ever Sakura cups, along with Sakura flavoured drinks and a LOT of souvenirs you could buy with Sakura on it. Great money maker. I haven't noticed anything as obvious in the UK where a company tries to accomodate the "English" market so it's quite interesting to see. Even Baskin Robbins customises its seasonal offers to the Japanese market, incorporating very "kawaii" (cute) additions to the packaging and promotional flyers.

You can follow me on instagram or twitter for more photos.

And off the back of the Sakura hot chocolate, this month, with the start of Spring, has come the Candy Orange latte. To me, it seems something perfect for autumn but it tastes delicious (to my ill-educated taste buds). I am pretty sure they don't have anything like this in the UK... If it isn't available in other countries then I am very curious as to why it is only available in Japan... I know oranges are one of the few fruits I can get my hands on without spending £5 for an apple. 

Girl v. Disneyland

Last week I lived out a childhood dream of mine, I went to Disneyland! It was so much fun despite it being the only day that week it rained. The rain just could not dampen my spirits! I never went as a child so I felt I had finally completed "childhood". (Does that mean I now have to grow up for real?)
I loved the tackiness of it all; the faded facades, the screaming girls chasing Daisy and Donald around the park, the outdated rides. At one point we watched a 3D musical starring Michael Jackson (1980s Michael), it was literally like stepping back into the 80s. The park definitely had a "20th century vibe" but I think that was what made it so great... Like the way riding in your 13 year old Peugeot 106 holds a special feeling in your heart no matter how many sports cars you take for a spin ;)

girl v. kigurumi

When in Rome...

girl v. tokyo date night

Time in Tokyo has passed in a blur of neon filled nights and skyscraper days.

My off days are filled with trying to soak up everything Tokyo and its surrounding areas have to offer; snow capped mountains and crammed sushi bars, evenings at izakayas and themed restaurants that turn into nights and early mornings belting out karaoke classics, wandering the streets of suburban Tokyo and stumbling across the best pastry outside of Paris. It is all a blur. But a good blur.

When I first arrived I read an article about dating in Tokyo, it said that it was easy, if you didn’t mind dating married men. I was shocked but I suppose not that surprised, I am sure it’s similar everywhere you go. Without speaking the language and having my only social circle as the 12 Europeans I came here with, finding a date is not the easiest of things to do. However, I felt that I was beginning to miss a good date. Those butterflies that you get when you’re on your way to meet them. The worry about whether you’ll find some common ground amidst the nervous initial conversation, the smiles that catch you on those pregnant silences. But I am a lucky girl and I soon stumbled across a lovely expat who took me to an izakaya on our first date and insisted I eat chicken hearts and drink a glass of a litre of beer.

Despite speaking the same language our communication rivaled one of mismatching cultures and every time we meet it takes us about an hour to actually find each other. “Stay in the station when you get to Omaichi.”

“Where are you?”

“In the station.”

“I’m on the platform.”

“I’m by the exit.”

“Meet me in Shinjuku station. Follow the exits to the Tokyo Metropolitan Building.”

“Where are you? I’m in the station.”

“I’m in the Tokyo Metropolitan building. Come find me, I’m at the North Observatory.’

‘Hurry, I want us to catch the sunset.”

“I’m already up at the top watching it.”

“I’m waiting for you downstairs!!”

Much like one of those cringe-worthy comedy shows where only the audience can see the mix up and wait with baited breath to see which poor soul realizes the mistake first. But it was cute.

Whisked up to the 45^th floor on a weekday where the tourists were few and far between we watched the sun set over a smoggy Tokyo. I have been informed (forcibly) many times but it is not pollution! Tokyo has no pollution!! But whatever it is, it casts an eerie layer over the city that never sleeps. We whipped out a compass and squinted in the direction of Fuji. I love that wherever I am in Tokyo we always try to get a glimpse of Fuji. It’s the kind of excitement of being able to see the London Eye peeping out behind the buildings when in London… except more relaxing. It reminds you that there is a calm life outside of this crazy city.

After the sun had set and Tokyo started to light up we sat at the bar and drank overpriced cocktails for hours, talking about life and love and everything in between. I love my life here but it was refreshing to speak to someone other than the people I live/work/breathe with everyday. 

“Sometimes I look out at the night sky in Tokyo, I see the moon, and I wonder to myself if my friends and family are looking up at that same sky on the other side of the world, and I wonder if they are thinking of me and my little life here in Tokyo.” I laughed at the deepness of his remark but now I think back, I do the same. Sometimes before I make my way from the quiet haven of my tiny apartment I sneak out onto my balcony that looks out over the train tracks and I look up at the mighty night sky as the cold nips at my face and I think of all the people I miss in my life and my past, and all the wonderful people that lay in front of me. It's a cathartic exercise that grounds me and reminds me where I have come from and where I've yet to go.