Home Is Where Your Kitten Poops

Last week was pretty eventful and a bit emotional. I was wallowing in my pit of homesickness over the Thanksgiving weekend – so much so that I bought a kitten who cost more than my car to make me feel warm and fuzzy – so luckily we finally received our household goods shipment just in time for me to avoid impulsively buying a puppy or shipping myself a paycheck's worth of Stumptown coffee and WSU Cougar Gold cheese. After several hours of three Japanese men unwrapping wine glasses and plates in my kitchen, squeezing my last reupholstery project through the back door, and dropping my husband's expensive-ass computer on the ground, we had a houseful of stuff that came all the way from our home in Portland.


It has started to feel more familiar but as soon as we leave the house we're reminded that we're in completely foreign territory. My smile-and-nod technique when I don't have any idea what someone is saying has resulted in everything from ordering an entire bottle of wine instead of a glass to buying $40 worth of cat food. Our new aforementioned kitten, Gibson, is apparently also struggling to truly acclimate to his new surroundings because he has spent the last week shitting everywhere and going off his titties around the house like a drunk howler monkey after a cocaine bender. 


This weekend, we decided we would man up and instead of traveling everywhere via pre-planned train route, we would get off at a stop and walk about 10 miles to a few different destinations within Tokyo. What better way to acclimate to your new environment? While making a sincere effort to not behave like drunk howler monkeys or shit all over the place, we took off to Shibuya, from which we would walk to Akihabara.

Shibuya is home to one of the busiest railway stations in Tokyo, and the famous Shibuya Crossing. Shibuya Crossing will challenge everything you thought you learned about crossing the road when you were in Kindergarten. It's hard to describe... when I was a kid living in California, my neighborhood friends and I would go all over our cul-de-sac putting roly polies (or “potato bugs” for those who are wrong) into a mayonnaise jar. Then, when we had amassed a great fortune of terrified bugs, we'd dump them all out at once. They would unroll themselves and scatter in a million different directions with absolutely no semblance of order. Shibuya Crossing is a bit like that.


Shibuya Station is also a mega-huge shopping center. Do you want a scarf that costs more than your couch? Well don't you worry about that, they got you covered. An umbrella that looks like a mushroom and has a bottle opener on it? Boy howdy did you come to the right place. Did you just generally want to look at clothes you could never afford on mannequins who are more attractive than you'll ever be? Well then call mammy and pappy and tell them you ain't never coming home, because this place is for you. The views are great to boot.

After narrowly avoiding maxing out a credit card on fuzzy socks and pashminas, we embarked on the long walking journey to Akihabara. On our way, we stumbled upon a farmer's market right on the edge of Shibuya, in front of United Nations University. I've been talking a lot about missing home lately, and this chance encounter was unbelievably fitting.

First of all, that's a guy in a plaid sweatshirt that I thought said “OREGON”, with a dog wearing boots standing in front of a food cart with a sign that says “ORGANIC VEGAN” selling kebabs. No seriously, am I in Portland or am I in Tokyo? I haven't felt this at home since I found a receipt from Bailey's Taproom in my jacket pocket.

We enjoyed a couple of Pilsners which were actually quite delicious, and decided to roam into the inner market that was filled with gifts and clothes and trinkets. And what did I spy with my little eye?

I wanted to shit twice and die with excitement and it took every ounce of self-control (read: every ounce of my lack of mastery of the Japanese language) to avoid telling the cashier, “I'M FROM THERE! THAT'S MY HOME!!” ala Buddy in Elf losing it over knowing Santa.

Seriously, that little bit of home completely warmed my soul. There I was, in this amazing new city on the other side of the world – and I stumble upon merchandise from my home city at a FARMER'S MARKET IN THE MIDDLE OF TOKYO. Where there are also food trucks!!!

Pass me the smelling salts, lest I faint.

Heading through Roppongi, we were reminded that in Tokyo, even Mario has to sit through traffic lights.

After I peeled myself away from that bastion of nostalgia, we passed the Imperial Palace garden area during sunset. I have nothing amusing to say other than it was absolutely beautiful.  I took a million pictures but I'll leave you with these.

We walked a few more miles and ended up in Akihabara, which is sort of like eating a jelly bean that you think is watermelon flavored only to find out it's ghost pepper flavored and also it explodes when you eat it like Pop Rocks and makes your pupils dilate until you start hearing colors and tasting techno beats.

Akihabara is known as the hub for all things anime, gaming, and technology. We ventured through one store that was eight stories of action figures, and the higher you climbed, the more raunchy they became. I did not take pictures because I am a LADY, and such things offend my sensitive nature. Nah really, I just didn't want to look like a perv. Because these figures were straight-up raunchy and made me crave a shower. Boobs are NOT supposed to be 2x the size of a woman's face, and legs don't actually bend like that. Jeez, Japan... calm down, cowboy.

We were so exhausted after 10 hours of walking and exploring that we finally hopped back on the train heading home. Home.. there's that word again.


My grandparents both passed away this year, and my grandmother spend decades turning their home into an absolutely beautiful, crazy, weird, bat-shit nutty but strangely cohesive collection of art, antiques, and everything under the sun that struck her fancy. When you walked into their home, the first thing that greeted you by the front door was this 5 foot tall, bizarre creature with bat wings and a cat face and a fuzzy feathered tutu and giant bedazzled high heels. It was the weirdest thing ever. I loved it. When they passed and we all got an opportunity to choose a couple of pieces that we loved to keep in memory, I laid claim on it.


And I had it shipped to Japan alongside my household goods.

Every time I saw this thing while I was arriving at their home, I knew I was in for a good time – because Grandma and Grandpa's house was ALWAYS a good time. My grandparents' house felt like home because it was weird and crazy and overstimulating and there was too much to look at and so much to do that you just HAD to relax and enjoy it for what it was or you'd never get out alive.


Japan is a bit like that. This adventure is for you, Grandma. You and your bat creature and all the other treasures that instilled in me a sense of adventure and appreciation of everything weird and different. It's serving me well now.  Rest in peace, you beautiful, weird, amazing firecracker.