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Corporate airplanes are the prison cells of the skies.

/ Stephen Tetsu / Leave a comment

I’ve never really been all that bothered by long airplane trips.  Sure they pack you into a tight enclosed space with some of the least comfortable seats imaginable and you’re essentially strapped in place of hours on end like some sort of mental patient in a Kubrick movie or something.  And then there are the several hundred other passengers also thrown onto the flight for good measure, some of them almost certain to be quite ill or small children who will undoubtedly spend half of the flight screaming like someone just sawed off their leg.  Sure (until recently) you’ve been forced to inexplicably turn off all your electronic devices for what seems like half of the flight because, in all their infinite wisdom, the world’s best and brightest apparently just can’t figure out how to make it so airplanes won’t explode because Cousin Jimmy is playing Angry Birds on his iPhone, forcing you to resort to (a) reading a book, or (b) cannibalism.

But with all those caveats, I don’t mind the mind numbing immobility of a long haul airplane ride.  Hell, I might actually like it.  In a modern world filled to the brim with all sorts of stimuli and crack-monkey culture, sometimes it’s good to just take a chill pill and enjoy the pleasantly tasteless monotony of airline food.

In terms of this bleak world of cross-oceanic airplane travel, my flight from San Francisco onwards to Haneda on Wednesday night was a freaking trip to Tahiti.  The main reason why?  Free space.

Unlike most of my other trips between Japan and the states, this flight was relatively lightly travelled, giving me an entire half a row to myself.  Add in the fact that I was on a newer plane (the ironically named Boeing 787 Dreamliner, I’ll get to that a bit later.) and I was practically staying at the Ritz.  Okay, well, maybe that’s a slight exaggeration but it was still better than the usual situation where you have to stuff your full-sized adult legs into a space that could have only been designed for the legs of a ten-year-old girl and a small one at that.  The great thing about the new Dreamliner is that the in-flight entertainment system is new, in other words, not the 1980s reject systems I had to deal with all my other times across the ocean.  One thing not so awesome about the Dreamliner I was on: there was a constant buzz through the entirety of the eleven hour flight, meaning it was even more impossible to sleep on the Dreamliner than on the usual run-of-the-mill aircraft.

As per usual, the movies on the plane were either things I’ve already seen (Pacific Rim) or complete and utter crap (World War Z).  Since Pacific Rim was one of my favorite movies of the year, I didn’t mind watching that again but I want the two hours I wasted on World War Z back.  Spoilers: Brad Pitt saves the world and Peter Capaldi doesn’t use his TARDIS.  At least the screen they built into the seat in front of me was bigger than an iPhone screen like the old ones almost were.  Audio system’s still crap though.

Gonna make this a two-parter because a lot happened once I landed and I kinda want to keep posts coming at a normal pace/whenever I’m near a stable internet connection.

-Stephen

As I was writing this, I just experienced the first earthquake of my new life in Japan (only a 3 on the Shindo scale, magnitude 4.8).  My grandparent’s house rumbled and shook for a few seconds but nothing too major.  It’s an old house made of wood with paper thin walls, which means it’s freaking old but also durable when it comes to tremors.  How did I react to the shakes?  I stopped writing for a brief moment and simply admired nature at work.  I suppose I should have a little fear in me but what’s the point?  If I freaked out about every earthquake I felt in Japan, I’d probably be freaked out all the freaking time.

Waiting at the Boarding Gate (AKA Anyone With Any Objections Should Speak up Now)

/ Stephen Tetsu / Leave a comment

This is going to be a stream of consciousness thing because I’m really bored and boarding time isn’t for another twenty minutes.  (That’s a lot of boards in one sentence.)

So the International Terminal at SFO is dead.  Like really dead.  Like set from the Walking Dead dead.  I guess it makes sense though.  American Thanksgiving isn’t exactly an international holiday.

The lack of crowds still didn’t make the whole TSA Security Screening thing any less annoying though.  Then again, I wore like ten layers of clothes, forgot to take my laptop out of my bag the first time around, left my wallet and iPod in my jeans pocket because I wasn’t paying attention, and almost left my passport with the first dude at the head of the line.  In other words, maybe the TSA screening sucked extra hard this time because I’m a freaking idiot.

I got to my gate with a whole whopping hour to spare, meaning penny of time to sit around and act really really bored.  I have an entire row of waiting area seats to myself but the stupid seat dividers mean I can’t lay down like the sloth that I am.

 

Pro-tip: Check you departure time before you leave the house.  My flight to Haneda turned out to be an hour earlier than I thought it was going to be.  If we hadn’t left so damn early, I would have been in a world of hurt.

—-

Things Observed at the Boarding Gate

  • Old white lady freaking out because she thinks someone stole her boarding pass to the point that she starts hyperventilating.  Where did the pass turn out to be?  Her husband’s pocket.  Yep folks, you just can’t make this stuff up.  Even as I write this ten minutes later, she’s still having trouble breathing.  
  • Nerdy-looking white college student girls obviously discussing what they’re going to cosplay as when they get to Tokyo.
  • Sloppy bathroom janitor dropping his piece of gum on the floor and then, after waiting a few pregnant seconds, popping said dust-crusted piece back into his mouth after retrieving it with the end of his broomstick.
  • Young attractive couple that may be on their honeymoon practically having sex under the escalators.

Boarding time is in ten minutes.  The next time I write, it’ll be from Japan and my new life in Japan will have begun.  Whoopdie-doo.

 

-Stephen out.

 

PS Why aren’t airports designed with like a bazillion power outlets.  It’s the 21st century and airplanes aren’t designed with power outlets either?  Just a thought…

On the Eve of My Big Move

/ Stephen Tetsu / Leave a comment

Remember when I wrote that I’d be a good blogger and update and write things on a consistent basis like a good boy?  I lied.  I’d like to say that I’ve been too busy to write but that’d be a boldface lie.  The majority of my days over the past two months have passed with marathon Doctor Who Blu Ray collection sessions and getting more in-depth into basketball statistics than is probably healthy for a normal human being.  But all those days, all those wasted hours have been done in preparation for this moment, this day.

As I write this, I only have about 20 more hours left in the United States before I haul two suitcases jammed to the brim with snotty office clothes that I never imagined I’d ever wear onto a plane bound for Japan and the high-stakes world of underground wolf wrangling.  Okay, so maybe I made that last bit up in a desperate attempt to impress you guys and not seem like a total sad sack.  Here’s the reality of my whole move thingy:

  • The destination: Mito-shi, Ibaraki Prefecture, Japan.
  • The job: English instructor/ teacher at a large chain English conversational school (Not quite sure if I want to disclose which company at this juncture)
  • The salary: 250,000 yen a month (I think)

My contract official ends in March of 2014 due to a technicality but I’m actually probably signed until 2015, at which point, who knows what the hell’s going to happen.  Until that point, I’m going to be living in Japan, away from my family, away from my friends, away from my beloved American sports (which is probably a good thing because I swear I’m a bad luck charm for the 49ers), and more importantly, away from all of the people who have filed restraining orders against me.  In short, if graduating from college wasn’t enough of one, this is a brand new start from scratch (disregarding the four suits I’m bringing with me and the laptop I’m typing this on).  I didn’t really need a fresh start or anything but I find that concept all sorts of fascinating.  All those ties and social circles I’ve acquired over the years? Gone.  That safety net of family and friends? Adios friendo.  Now, if I screw things up (which I probably will… repeatedly), I’ve only got myself to blame and I’ll be the one suffering.

In writing this post, I’m once again procrastinating on the whole packing deal.  I’ve made the decision to take two suitcases, which I’ve found to be surprisingly empty, even as I do my best to fill them with everything I’ll need to be a professional in uptight business Japan, which means I’m probably forgetting something important.  It’s not money (I’m barely gonna be scraping together enough to survive for the first month there) and certainly not socks.  Maybe it’s something less physical and more… abstract.  I already know the most important thing: No matter how much I prepare myself, I’m going to be caught off guard.  So why worry about packing?  Once I have the big stuff down, what point is there in sweating the details?  I don’t want my last couple of hours in the states to be filled with dread and panic.  I want to savor that thick American smog, get stuck in the usual bumper-to-bumper traffic of the American commute, smell the roses undoubtedly doused with some drunk hobo’s urine.  If the time comes and I’m missing something crucial, so be it.  It’s not like Japan is a distant way station in the middle of the Sahara.  They have stores there too.

If you’ve made it this far, thanks for reading the ramblings of a dude who’s low on sleep and high on impatience.  I promise I’ll try to write a bit more once I’m over there since I’m sure some of you will be curious about what I’m up to amongst the chilly natto-fields of Mito.  If that doesn’t appeal to you, why the hell are you even reading through this blog?

I know the impact of what I’m doing has completely gone over my head but oh well.  I’ll have plenty of time to ruminate on the deeper meaning of my job in Japan during my twelve hour plane flight.  Let’s just get this show on the road.

-Stephen

Something I probably won't be getting in Japan

Something I probably won’t be getting in Japan

P.S.  I should probably check whether or not I’m actually booked on this flight.

P.P.S. If anyone is reading this and has my phone number, just get rid of it.  My sister’s taking over my phone and I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to deal with you guys texting her with your nonsense.

P.P.P.S. Whoever invented the Rice Krispie Treat deserves a Nobel Prize.

Hello Out There (Alternate Title: Are you There God, It’s Me Stephen)

/ Stephen Tetsu / Leave a comment

By the time you’ll be reading this, I’ll have officially accepted a job teaching English in Japan at a private English school chain-company-corporation-conglomerate-thingy.  Not exactly the most exciting way to start off a brand new blog (Still looking for a good title, by the way), I know, but the truth nonetheless.

I suppose I should probably start this whole thing off by introducing myself since, hypothetically, there will be people reading what I write who know nothing about me. (The biggest hypothetical here is of course the contention that there will be people even reading this blog at all but that’s besides the point.)  So here goes nothing.  Here comes the deep philosophical avalanche in which my every deepest darkest secret is laid bare before your very eyes like your supper after a very long, very rough night of drinking.

Ahem.

Hey there,  My name is Stephen… or Tetsu… or both…  Honestly, I don’t care.  People screw up my name all the time anyways so I’m freaking used to it.  Anyways, I’m 22 (even though I look like I’m in my mid-thirties), a recent graduate from UC Davis, and a goddamn sexy beast.  Alright, so maybe I made that last bit up.  The rest of it is true.  Go ahead, try and prove me wrong.  I dare you.

So where were we?  That’s right, my favorite topic: Me.  I like many things such as (but not limited to) nerdy stuff like comics and Doctor Who and other stuff you’ve heard people talk about but were too cool actually care about, music (both the listening to and creating of), sports (everything except for hockey because, hey, if I wanted to see a bunch of alcoholics beat the crap out of each other for no good reason, I’d rather just pay a couple of hobos to fight to the death), and food (both eating and making, but mostly eating because I’m fat).  I don’t dislike many things but things that really curl my crepe include  douchey dudes who take advantage of really drunk (and/or otherwise incapacitated) chicks at bars/parties/company functions/bridal showers/Little Timmy’s Bar Mitzvah, angry drunks, humid heat (which, since I’m moving to Japan, is going to be an issue), wine, things that give me heartburn, and people from Seattle (unless you’re reading this blog, in which case, you are the freaking best).

I guess the responsible thing to do would be to elaborate upon some of these things but I’m a recent college grad so screw responsibility.  Well, kinda… Not really… I was one of those college students.  Since I plan on focusing on stuff that I like (primarily food and sports and pop culture-y sorta things), there will be posts introducing my views on those things in the days to come (I obviously have a lot of time on my hands at the present moment).  Hell, maybe if I have the time, I’ll explain why I hate what I hate as much as I do, although most of those things are tied to things that I like.

Anyways, I suppose the big question revolving around this blog/thing is a simple one: Why?

My answer isn’t nearly so easy to get across.  When I was younger, I used to write… a lot… Probably too much, come to think of it.  Be it melodramatic love poems (some which I’ve somehow managed to keep and could possibly come to share somewhere down the road), ridiculously insipid musings on stuff going on in my life (did not keep those, thank god), posts upon posts of writing for text-based RPGs (don’t knock it til you try it/I was really lonely at the time), and works of fiction that I mostly would start and never finish (still have most of those).  Then, sometime in college, I just stopped writing.  It’s been a few years now and that decision still nags at me like the ache of a bad dream.  Which brings us to this point.  (There’s definitely a lot more to this story than that but it’s five in the morning and I need my sleep so that’ll be a story for another day.)  I dunno what I’ll wind up writing but lord knows I’m going to try to write as much as I can.

So stick around and be patient.  I’ll try to make sure that patience is dutifully rewarded.

Thanks for your read-timing.

Stephen

Image

Pictured: I was obviously dropped on my head as a child.