My computer's still in the works, but I seem to not remove myself from this "itch" that I have to write. My recent compulsions to write mount at home --especially after work-- but by the time I actually find my way to the office --today's a day off btw-- my lackluster motivation seemed to have dwindled to something else...

Nonetheless, my day has been spent very well, thank you... as I venture out of the Yamanote to trophy myself some excellent furniture... which are definitely not readily available.

Never did I imagine going furniture shopping at this tender age of 23. Well, whatever. I stroll into Mujirushi Ryouhin or Marui "In the Room," or something... and my intrusive entanglement with young OLs, Jyoshi kouseis, and androgenous males beg the question of what the hell am I doing among these kyapi kyapi people. The pitch of the voices --or whatever classifciations these sounds fall-- are clearly a few octaves higher than my tolerable capacity... and despite the inexpensive prices, I am surely bewildered by the expanse of energy... which remain dormant as whispers... a clicking time bomb that's ready to pop. Surely, this is a product of my imagination. Yet, whispers are whispers, and the quaint bustle yields little comfort... if not discomfort.

So I move on... to more expensive arrangements, and I reached a definitive conclusion. Japanese products --as far as furniture goes-- is CRAP. Of course, I leave myself some room here with a fine print discretion stating that ths statement is nothing more than a gross generalization which do not strike each and every elements that construct what is Japanese furniture. For all I care, Japanese birch and pine are one of a kind!!!! I just have to say that there's some indescribable fascination with post-modern Warhol flavors that are simply SHIT. Please excuse my French. More simply put... this frustration that I am getting in searching furniture... is wild. I WAS looking for a bed. I decided to be a little bit more tactful, and look for a sofa-bed (Two-in-one... smart huh?), bookshelf, and a dresser. My place is a bit more spacious than expected, so my minnimalist principles worked against me.

Anyhow, I've now taken refuge to Pier One Imports, and they were actually now ok in comparative standards. (in my honest opinion, I disliked Pier One for their more "ethnic" flavor... when I lived in California) But now, Pier One looks like heaven. So it's time to go virtual reality and hit the IKEA web site. Alas! As there's no IKEA in Japan. The nearest location is Hong Kong. (But there's several in Slovakia, Prague and Hungary). They are a Swedish company, but someone please reassure me that there's something wrong here. I know I didn't take Business 101 or an entreprenurial course ever in my life... but Japan must be a marketing heaven for their pre-fab rinky-dinks. Given, they are yet another post-modern crap firm, but I dream of a western size sofa to recline in comfort. Some essentials in life are impossible to sacrifice. A recent re-discovery that I've made quite recently.

There's really nothing like coming home, taking a shower, and recline back in your sofa with an ice cold beer, David Bowie, and a good novel with your shirt off (probably a male prerogative, but definitely the most recommendable act one can take with the least expenditure to gain maximum comfort -- A suggestion to those women who complain of hyper tension and whatever else you may be coming across).

Nonetheless, my day has been fruitful in a sense, I now know what I want, what I can afford, and to what extent I'm willing to go... along with the most important fact that Japanese furniture made for the masses IS CRAP. For that matter, I discovered that everything that's made for the masses is crap. Surely, there's an affordability issue here, but I came to a conclusion that I'd rather own less than fall into the synthetic trap.

Maybe this is another criticism againsst Japan. I'm not a believer of cultural relativism... and I don't believe that Japan is any more (or less) special than any other country or culture. I admit that the "general" standard here is high... but it just goes to show that C-average is 80 percent rather than 75, and there's no one who's valedictorian, or with any kind of honors. Actually, I take the latter back. You get honors here for drinking a liter of sake from a plastic bucket that who knows what's been done to or from it. Yes... an honor and a distinction. My pride and soul. Whatever that's worth to you.

I just want my sofa-bed.

Euge