What I miss most about England

Stussy and Toffee Crisps. And the news. I get the news here, but it`s in American and generally about finance. Gugh! And the Houses of Parliament. I wouldn`t mind a gravy dinner either, but I don`t think you can get Bisto out here. However, I am quite looking forward to my big bowl of udon for tea.

I think I may be getting homesickness. I am getting small pangs and wishing I was back there so Stussy could fall asleep on my chest and dribble. She`s getting old and I feel I should be there with her. Poor, old girl.

My date with Uriah was mediocre. He scoffed Western food and moaned about Japanese izakayas, thereby sealing his fate. He arrived with a Walkers-style packet of crisps, bought me Baskin Robbins ice cream (which was amazing, thank you!) and bought some cold, over-priced chips near the temple we re-visited. On the way back from the temple, he clocked a vending machine stocking Kit Kats and pounced. We spent some time wandering around Sogo and I galloped off dying from boredom and bother from needing a new haircut.

The hairdresser I wanted to go to (Mario of London, World Champions) did not take credit cards, so I had to try Earth, who were new, funkily decked out (with a VIP area, although I was not permitted) and also much cheaper. Sadly, they were just shutting, but I went back Friday, fully equipped with a picture of Phil Oakey I had sketched, should `shortto` and `cutto` no work. They would have, as did `asymmetrico`. I am feeling fluent. The hairdresser who spoke English was off when I went back, so I was informed by the floor-sweeper (who spoke the best English) that I could have my haircut, but there would be no communication. They won themselves a repeat client with those beautiful words. I hate being forced to converse with hairdressers. I generally have a hangover when I go to get a do, so want to just be left to sleep or read. It was bliss. My eyes were covered with a small cloth while I was having my hair washed and I was given a drink and some small sweets to keep my energy levels up while I sat and was worked on.



I had acquired my hangover in Riaz`s room drinking two small bottles of ￥420 wine and watching Harry Potter, which Karen and I thought too sinister for young children, particularly the bit that`s ripped off from American Werewolf in London. I was craddled to sleep by some small earth tremors, which I couldn`t be sure wasn`t just the room spinning until Karen confirmed it for me later.

I have a new student on Saturdays who I think will become my idol. She is called Minako, although referred to as Minataur by the wacky teacher I work with. He has lowered my opinion of himself by doing this. She is a divorced mother of two who is completing masters with a comparative study of domestic violence in Japan and Singapore, with a particular focus on the indirect victims of abuse; children who witness the attacks. She has travelled to Bangladesh to assist poor women attempting to educate themselves and her daughter, who is currently undertaking a philosophy degree, has helped build houses for the poor in Cambodia. As campaigners go, she was still fairly meek and polite, but for the Japanese to even mention such a subject is a considerable achievement. I congratulated her and we discussed the necessity of her rewarding work, her using the Amnesty site to practise English and rage some more, along with her love of musicals (particularly Miss Saigon and the Sound of Music) and her need to sing to give her life some ups to alleviate the downs of her research. The receptionist snickered when I said it was an impressive way for a Japanese woman to live her life. I want to befriend Minako, join her campaign and watch her sing.

Mum, could you give Stussy some sardines and say they`re from me please.