Yes, It Happens at the End of the Year Party

“Drink, Drink! C’mon in” ,said my co-worker, pushing me into the party room.
These are the words that signal the kick off of the-end of the year party. Everyone knows that someone, including themselves, will take off their shirt and start belly-dancing. Drinking to the point of unconsciousness is a ritual at this party. No one has a curfew on this fanatical and foolish night. This event seems to erase the boundary between the juniors and the seniors.
However, nothing can bridge the gap between these two factions. The young employees or juniors must not forget to be respectful to their elders or seniors.
In the Japanese culture, age deserves respect whether a senior administrator is highly competent or incompetent or he or she deserves respect. Why? Because senior members of a business behave age rules. That is the way it always has been and continues to be.
Alcohol will never erase the truth. The juniors always have to remember their place in the business hierarchy.
Young versus old, and never the twain do meet. The next morning, it’s business as usual. Last night’s old belly dancer might make you today’s outcast and shamed you in front of everyone for your behavior at the drinking party.
Whether we work in the States, or in Japan, a proper Japanese junior never forgets his culture.

The New Year Coming Up!

Every year, as far as I remember, I spend New Year with my family and my relatives. I loved the fact that all of us who have the similar face gather and joke around at my grandparents house.
However, from this year my New Year might be different. For the first time, I will spend my New Year and Holidays with my friends in Philadelphia. I am grateful that I have my "second"family in Philadelphia, but also, I feel some kind of invisible distance between my family, relatives and friends and me.
It was a ritual that I see my immediate friends whenever I go back to Japan. I let them know what date I was coming back. We were all excited about what we would talk about over coffee and dinner. My friend called every classmate in high school for me when I visited Japan last year. My best friend showed me "what's hot" spots and food in the fancy Department. I miss them and wish we could spend some time together this year too.
The reason why I chose not to go home is simple. It is the politics. From January elect-president Obama might change some of the immigration policy that might affect my status in the U.S. With my visa, I am allowed to go to any country and come back to the U.S., however, because of this turmoil in the world, the computer system that is responsible for keeping individual's visa status document might act improperly. Thus, there is a possibility that the re-entry to the U.S. might become harder for non-U.S. citizens.

Japanese 'Bonenkai"

At the end of the year, most of the Japanese companies host the end of the year party called Bonenkai. It is all about getting away from the stressful work and relaxing. Those liberated employees drink and joke around over funny events or something nothing that happened that year.
Well, the end of year party for our company happened a little earlier. I can say that we had pre-the end of the year party, and it happened in one of the conference rooms at the office. Preparation started around 4 p.m., and pne of the co-workers started to stuff the fridge with bunch of Sapporo.
I was not sure of what was going to happen until two hours later, after our supervisors left the office, a couple of colleagues were making splashing sounds with opening beer cans. I was in total shock. I never thought nor heard that employees would party at their work place.
However, before I knew it, I became the loudest and craziest happy camper. People see me that I am a quiet and diligent, and I do so because I am not still used to how to act like and as Japanese as I used to. I have lived in the States for the last five years, and I seem to have lost the "Japaneseness." So, everyone thought that I was going crazy and losing my sanity when I revealed my true identity with a couple of tasty and sweet Sapporo.
To my co-workers, my act might have looked funny, but, for sure I felt great, feeling accepted for who I am, knowing that it might last only for the next couple of hours until the party ends, but we talked and joked around, which I never had done before.
However, this pre-end of the year party made me realize that they will accept me and I should accept them for who they are and who I am even if we know that we all have different attitudes, notions and perspectives from each other.
From the party, where everyone sincerely worried that I lost my mind, I learned that if I change, they will change too.

Grand Central Illumination

I was walking back from the attorney's office. The attorney is our company's personal lawyer.However, My boss gave me an advice when I deal with him from now on.
He said, " just nod, and do not ever talk back." Also, he started telling me about pet peebs of each clients that he has been working with.
I was following him around because my boss is leaving for Japan due to his personal issue. He has ten major advertisement clients, and has been in the industry for the last eight years, and here I am, a newbie, who joined our company a month ago, is about to take over all of his tasks.
I was filled with anxieties, and he was telling me about the detailed information about each clients on the way back.
Today is Dec 16th. 9 days to go for the Christmas. However, neither of us noticed that the vibe in the Grand Central Station was special and different. Looking around, I saw many different colored lights reflecting the walls around us. I looked up. The blue and yellow lights was moving and filling the large dorm style ceiling. When I turn my head around, I noticed that lights were surrounding us. I felt as if I were in the planetarium.
We needed to go back to the office, so the excursion short. Yet, it surely made me cheerful and joyful.

To the 9th Avenue

I will move most of my belongings from my friend’s house to my new apartment on 9th Avenue in Brooklyn tomorrow.
I have butterflies in my stomach. This is quite similar to how I felt when I was first coming up to New York for my first job.
I did not want to leave Philadelphia. I did not want to have nor to expect to have a post-graduate life in New York. However, the reality was that I did not have any choice.
One of the reasons that I feel still unsettled in New York is that I have only acquaintances, a couple of them in Brooklyn, Queens and even the Long Island. I am still very attached to Philadelphia where I have immediate friends, mentors and most of all, my lifestyle that I loved.
When I was at work, I read the article that there is some kind of a disorder for some New Yorkers. I canot recall its name, but its recognizable symptom is simple; feeling lonely completely alone in the crowd. One of my good friends left New York because he was not able to stand being assimilated even though the crowd surrounded him.
Also, my former professor said, “There is nothing worse than feeling alone in New York. Make friends or get a boyfriend. ”
I laughed at his comment, but I think in a way it makes sense to a certain extent.
Another chapter of my life will start from tomorrow. I will be leaving Astoria, the place that I end up liking and wishing to stay, to all the way down to the 9th Avenue in Brooklyn, the area called “the second China town.”
I am nervous, but I will find the way out to entertain myself and enjoy each moment in New York, staying away from having the disorder!

The Sushi Restraunt

One of my friends finished his internship today at the newspaper company I work for. He has much more experiences than I do. I have worked only for two weeks, and he has worked for six months.
To learn from him about the job and to celebrate the successful ending of his internship, we decided to go to a sushi restaurant that is close to our workplace. Then, I found a peculiar thing that I did notice before.
He did not talk at all while we were eating delicious sushi. I thought I was making uncomfortable, so I asked him why he was quiet.
He said, "I am a quiet person. I just pretend to be a happy camper at the social settings. It is only for business, and it is only for my success."
I was amazed how he could control his emotions and behaviors so easily according to situations, especially to make himself look more appealing and marketable for the network.
On the other hand, I am not good at putting a mask on my face to be someone that I am not, or that I wish to be to be "more sociable." I tried in the past, and I failed. I just felt chocked.
I strongly feel that I wish I could be accepted for who I am and receive credits from others, and go clime up the ladder.
However, he gave me the most important assets to become successful.

He said, "Just be careful of what you say, and respect others."

I thought, ... that I can do it!

Tap Tap Tap!

At the Grand Central Terminal, every night musicians, artists and dancers entertains the pass-bys with their talents and skills.
Three days ago, it was a tap dancer. He danced a long with high-speed famous classic music songs. His tap was sharp and fast. It was as if I were hearing a secretary crazily punching her typewriter. Tatata tatatatata. I wish I could have written down the rhythm and beat. More than anything else, the tap dancer was releasing the powerful energy that heated every audience. Outside was 26 F, but he was in sweat.

Businessman, children and stood in awe, kept moving their eye balls up and down and right to left.

That show was definitely worth good amount of money. I felt uncomfortable not being able to donate money to them, but also felt lucky to have had a chance to hear this astounding performance at the subway station in NY.

Laying Off, Laying Off

Tonight, I read a news report about the Tribune Company filing for bankruptcy. My friend who works for Sheraton told me that about twenty of her co-workers got laid off. Apparently, some of the soon-to-be-former Sheraton workers are now worried about how to support their families.
I am horrified that other companies will also downsize. I never lived during such unpredictable times. Not having enough savings to make myself feel secure, I am losing my mind because of this "second depression."
I am sure that people have a lot of trust in president-elect Barack Obama. They want to believe that he can change their lives. However,the most important thing to remember is knowing how to change your life by yourself.
My mentor once said, "You are unfortunate when you allow misfortune to affect and destroy your life."

Life in Astoria and Kensington

The bridge over the broadway station in Queens looks very similar to that of Kensington in Philadelphia. Kensington was the area that I needed to cover for stories for my Journalism capstone class.

This area in Queens is called Astoria. It could be called "fishtown" of Queens. It is busy in the day time, but it is very quiet at night time. Supermarkets, tailers and flowershops fills the street. The Christmas illuminations in the air are beautiful.

However, there are some garbage, old magazines and used toilet papers on the street, and they remind me of the streets of Kensington.

I remember how warm-hearted and ambitious Kensington residents were, at least the ones that I met and interviewed. They were trying to become better than who they are. The area was labeled as one of the notorious areas in Philadelphia and so are they. However, I do know that it is the resources that the people need to improve the quality of their lives. It is not entirely their fault who create social problems in Kensington.

Most likely, very few people from the place have been to Astoria and to "new york" where the opportunities for careers and dreams await them. I do know that life is not fair, but I just wish that Kensington residents have a chance to come this place and have the life they deserve.

Fire Blazes!

At my friend's house, the heater burst into flames near her bed. Ayako rushed into her room and screamed, “Takako, water! Water! Bring some water!”


I ran to the kitchen. I stopped. Piles of different sized dirty dishes filled the sink. On the top of the stove, each of the four burners held a pot or pan, in addition to which rested at least six other cooking vessels which were either black with food or black without food.

Old text books, some still wearing their “used” sticker, were strewn across the floor like stepping stones across a stream. Some of them were closed and some were open with pages torn in half from being trod upon by high heels, boots, slippers and bare feet.
An occasional tube of lipstick, hair brush, shoe and crumpled fast food wrapper dotted literary landscape

I stood paralyzed, facing these obstacles and trying to plan a strategy.

“Just pick one!” she yelled and pushed my shoulder to move me out of her way.

In spite of her urging, I was not about to waste a perfectly good strategy. I saw my path, chose my pot, and decided on my approach to the sink. Pushing some dishes aside, I shoved a blackened two-quart sauce pan under the faucet, when I heard Ayako scream,
“Is it clean?”

I spun around, water sloshing out of the pot and onto the torn pages of an English anthology, and yelled, “How can you tell?”

With that, she grabbed the pot and ran to the fire and threw the water across the flames. After yielding a great puff of steam, the fire died out.

Safe at last, we turned to face each other. What first appeared to be steam on my friend’s forehead turned out to be sweat. My friend was actually sweating. It was the first time, during our five-year friendship, that I saw my constantly cool companion in a state of abject terror.

We hugged and rejoiced over our good fortune. What began as an evening of candle lit meditation and relaxation became one of the most stressful and shocking situations ever. Nevertheless, we found cause to laugh over the ridiculousness of it all.

And after the dust settled, literally, we were hungry. Once again, in a state of cool confidence, my dear friend looked at me and said, “What are we gonna cook?”

Just one word came to my mind: Clueless.

A Lovely Moment on the Subway

I heard someone hitting drums. Honestly, , the osund was nothing but annoying because I was feeling quite sick. On top of that, these two men were speaking in French over my head with so many consinants. That escalated my headache. I was just about to faint. I tied my scarf too tight by mistake and I was not able to breathe well. My mind started to go blank.
Then, I saw a teenager boy with a drum dushing toward the conjunction of the subway cars even though it was moving. Then followed a big man. Then did two other little kids. I was not able to wonder what was about to happen. It was as if little ducks following one after another. In the meantime, the big man/big duck was holding the heavy conjunction doors that were not supposed to be open, but to make a bridge for the kids to jump to the next car.
Most likely, they were on-going subway performers. They jump from one car to the other like an united duck family.
Probably their behavior might have not pleased anyone, and I believe that it was quite a peculiar incident. But I felt something warm inside, and also I noticed that my headache was gone.

My Day!

A WOMAN SHOULD HAVE
a feeling of control
over her destiny..


MAYA ANGELOU'S'

My Big Japanese Sister!

I had such a blast today! I went out with one of my friends to have a dinner at Riki, a Japanese Izakaya Restaurant. She was considerate enough to save my seat as the place were getting filled with customers who were fond of Japanese cuisine.
The best part of the night was that we were able to share our stories beyond business issues. We talked about the rooommate problems, which I believe that every single New Yorkers faces. We discussed about how beautiful and magnificent Broadway shows are and but also felt sad for the fact that the companies are closing the shows down most likely because of this world financial crisis.
She is, I would say, the Japanese person that I can truly trust in this new city. She is like my sister, if I had. Interestingly, she is quite opposite of me. She is such a good listener, has a beautiful long hair, looks very Japanese, petite and considerate. She has great deal to teach me about life!
She has been helping me enormously for my job, and one day I wish I could pay her back somehow!! Maybe... creating our own Broadway shows and let other Japanese know how life-experience shows they are!

When you don't have anything, you will see everything

This one time, my co-worker said to me, " I vowed to myself that I would never complain about my life ever again after 2008." Of course, I asked him the reason why, and he said, " I went on a shoot to cover the Katrina. I realized whatever problems I had were nothing to compared to what they had down there."
Yes, I believe that it is unhealthy for a person to complain about his life all the time, it is also unattractive, too. However, complaining and wishing for the better is different.
For example, my friends and I,who are on special type of visa in the states, have a lot of difficulties achieving who we want to become or even to have a steady income in this foreign country. Even if we want to, we are not allowed to work at MacDonalds. It is due to the law that we, as international post-college students, have to work in the fields that we studied. Some of the students who graduated from Universities in New York worked illegally to just to stay in this country, but my friends and I never did. We instead chose to live poor, and lead more meaningful life and be proud of ourselves.
A distinctive memory that I had with my dearest friend is us sharing suffragettes with just hot chilly spice. It was not the most tasty dish that I had, but it was the most unforgettable dish that I ever did and that I will have. We laughed how broke we were, but also, we promised how strong this would make us like a spring board. There was no other moment like this I appreciate me having such a friend.
When I came up to New York, someone broke into my house and he stole all of my equipments to shoot. As a broadcast major student, it was quite a shock. They must have cost close to $700. On top of that, that bugler was greedy enough to steal my suits too even though he would not going to be able to fit in for SURE!!! I left 13 boxes of clothes because I knew my place in the new city, New York will not accommodate them all. where I would live in New York was small
At this point in my life, my life is not the way how I want to live, but I am thankful for what I have in front of me. I learned to appreciate and gained patience, instead of what I do not have like I used to do.
When something bad happens, I have several friends who IMMEDIATELY call me back or text me and ask to see if I am doing okay or still alive. First of all, they are not my family members. They do not owe me anything, but they are sincere and kind to me. How much more fortunate I could be! I don't have as many things as before, but I got to find things that money can never purchase me.
I am very grateful that I am surrounded by thoughtful and sincere friends. I am thankful that my parents are well. More than anything, I am happy that I am alive so that I can be enjoying my life every day with a hope of becoming better each day. Right now is difficult time for me now, there is no doubt about that, but I am truly confident to say that this would be the greatest time of my life.

Everyone Freezed Today!!

It was 10 a.m. I stepped outside the house,and I needed to go back to the house immediately. It was unbelievably cold outside. I swear that bananas would transformed into a hammer.
When I lived in Philadelphia, a thin sweater and heavy leather jacket perfectly warmed me up, and let me enjoy the beautiful winter time.
I remember when I came up to New York to visit the metropolitan museum in the middle of December about 3 years ago, I begged my friends to go back to Philadelphia as soon as we arrived. I truly felt the danger of my life.
Today, I just read the article that some charity organization would help homeless on the street during this time so that they won't be frozen dead.
The winter is coming in New York. For instance, it was supposed to snow today.
From now on, I will layer my clothes and go to work looking like a snowball. Only wish I do not be rolling down from the stairs on the subway like a real snow ball !

A Parkslope Lounge

I am waiting a phone call at 10 p.m. Now, it is 5 to 9. My friend and I am planning to go to a lounge at Parkslope in Brooklyn.
Parkslope used to be a sloppy, dirty and unstructured place where a lot of working-class people lived. However, in recent years, the area has transformed dramatically. Especially 5th Avenue is THE avenue to go.
Brooklyn residents, and even some Manhattan businessmen visit this inexpensive heaven to have fun during weekends. Thousands of restaurants are lining up along the streets against each other. It looks like people being squashed on the train during the rush hour. This 5th avenue is just packed!
I am sure that my artistic friend will take me to somewhere that I have never been tothat would inspires and give me a different perspective on life tonight!

My "Neverland"

The other day, Micheal Jackson's "neverland" theme park or something sounds similar to that closed down due to his financial crisis. However, my neverland will open forever!
The joyful and powerful energy was coming out of each store along with high-pitched paced Latin music. All I could see were from Mexico. For a split second, I thought I was in Mexico, but the next moment, finding the pole painted with three colors that are on the Italian flag; red, white and green, then I wonder that I might be actually in Italy. I had no clue of where I was, but, big and endless blue sky was there. Every single house was flat. Maybe this is California, I thought. However, detecting that greesy unhealthy, but one of Philadelphia's specialty, cheese stake, I finally figured out where I was. I was in South Philly.

South Philadelphia turns its town's color at night, like a camouflage. South Philly after the sunset was incomparably relaxing, but more entertaining than any other area that I knew of. Store lights were beaming and danced with the color of the night. Cheese, pork and pasta that I saw through store windows were just sitting still. No one was there, nothing was moving. There only breathtaking view existed. Oh my, it was just very peaceful.

I felt as if I owned this whole magical theme park all to myself.It is as if I was watching a movie in a huge movie theater all by myself. It was such a treat.

This unexpected excursion made me find my "neverland." It was much more than a $6,000 luxurious tour. I had it without paying a penny. Oh god, that was such a place, and unlike that of the Jackson's, my "neverland" will stay open forever!

Doing it over again!

At 10:17 P.M. on my way back home to Brooklyn, I heard sounds as if someone is reading a newspaper.It was definitely not seven a.m. during the rush hour. It was close to the midnight.

Actually, the sounds came from passengers reading vigorously reading today's newspapers, from metro to NY times. The train filled with non-American including myself. Out of all people sitting in the car, only one person was white. The others were 80 percent Chinese, 20 percent Mexican, and all of their heads were covered with newspapers. Chinese and Spanish on the papers were dancing as they turned over the pages. I also noticed that poster hung on the subway wall that says, "Yes we can." It was striking to see those immigrants, who probably do not speak English well, who do not have high income, and who might not have jobs that they wish, trying to strive and change their lives for the better. Then, I realized that change is not something that falls upon on people by itself, but it is something that we create.

Sometimes, I feel frustrated with my work situation and concern about my future. This on-going economy is making me frightened about my job career and sometimes making me wonder if I could get to where I want to be.

However, the people who were looking for better opportunities and changes, instead of worrying about loss, washed away my trifle anxieties. Change is what we make, not what we receive.

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Today, I went on a shoot to the Columbus Circle at Time Warner Center. Apparently, The Holiday under the Stars and Snow program was the main target. At 6:00 P.M. at the entrance of the Time Warner Center, 12 stars hang in the 85 foot high Great Room illuminated by the largest specially crafted display of illuminated co.or mixing in the world started to dance along with various kind of Christmas songs. This exhibition will lasted until midnight, however, it was only 15 minutes when "Magic Snow" fell on the ground.

What most of the people did not notice was that each star was choreographed to change its color with original interpretations of holiday music derived from a 12 person orchestra.

Anyone who used to play any kind of instruments would know that there are many tones and sounds that different instruments make. Indeed, this is the place for them. I used to play piano for over ten years, and I was lucky enough to listen most of the different sounds that various intruments were making.

The timing of me hearing a sound and looking at stars changing was perfect and nothing but magnificent. In addition, the mall doors made of glasses reflected all of the lights and colors of stars, and they merged into the outside scenery; a lightened up fountain, tall monument, cars on a long road. For a second, I was in an illusion that I was in Paris that I saw in the movie. It was breathtaking.

Sometimes, camera lenses cannot show what exactly cameramen and reporters are looking. I just wished so deeply that viewers of this package could feel uplifted and joyful as we got when they watched our show that will be aired tomorrow.

P.S.

I realized that when I see a beautiful thing, I strongly wnat to share wit the feeling with someone that is important in my life. When I was watching 12 stars, all I thought was how satisfied I would be if I were able to share this once-a-year-event with my beloved family.

Draft 1

Monday, November 10, 2008

The Lady With Her Suitcase

It happened at the cafe, which name was impossible for me to pronounce because it is in French! I was lining up in front of a casher with a hot beaf stew soup and a cold cheese bagel for my supervisor. It was quite windy out, which made it harder for a customer to push the heavy door to exit. I also pushed the door with my entire strength,almost attacking the door with my torso.Then, I felt someone standing behind me. It was a lady with a black suitecase. She had beautiful blond hair and and nice white fur coat. I thought it was a commonsense to keep holding the door for her so she could smoothly get out the store with her suitcase while she was on her cell phone. Well, she successfully left the cafe, however, I did not "thank you."
I am not asking her to express her graditude to me. She just horrified me with her behavior making me surprised with how inhumane and ungracious a human being can be.
New York is a fast-speed society. People might not see anything but the way to get to their destinations; workplace, home and bars after work.
I found those people pitiful and unfortunate because they are missing the most important phrase in human life.
The phrase "thank you" is simple. Sometimes we forget and underestimate its power and its value. However, this is the phrase we use most in our entire living lives, I believe. Then, isn't it the time for us to remember how warm inside it made us feel to say and to be said the words

Sunday, November 9, 2008

It was both an ordinary but rare Sunday. The subway window rims cast geometric patterns that moved along the isles. The light passing through the windows bisected faces in light and dark. The sense of peacefulness was all-pervasive. People, dressed in unique, casual or toned-down attire, were squinting their eyes, looking outside the windows into the bright afternoon light. Sunbeams held time tightly in their strong grasp. Passengers sat in golden capsules. It was as if the sun embraced and memorialized all these New Yorkers, lining up their golden busts in a traveling Work Museum. Flashes of light, like sunshine reflecting off the ocean, danced in celebration though the air. Yes, it was an ordinary Sunday in New York, as I walked to the subway, but once on the train, a rare and magical, sunlight excursion took me to a place full of peacefulness and hope.

New York has its own pace, created by New Yorkers, and which victimizes New Yorkers. It is
frightening to see businesswomen and men constantly moving their fingers across their I-phone
keyboards like frantic squirrels rushing to bury their hoards of nuts for the winter. Reading and listening to audio books or music through headphones seem to afford a respite from daily urban tensions, but this “so-called” respite is certainly a continuation of sensory bombardment. The tempo of Times Square, like river rapids, pulls us away from the healthy environment of our inner space. Then why do people seem to choose overstimulation? Much like a child overloaded with sugar, we do not recognize the symptoms.

I believed that I would never become a New Yorker. Limiting myself to an average three hours of sleep in the-city-that-never-sleeps is simply something that I could never do. However, I have had my moments like the time when my sixteen-hour work day came into conflict with my need for winter clothes. I told my boss that I had to leave early to purchase winter clothes. Naturally, my company does not allow personal shopping time during the work day. However, my work day begins and ends as stores open and close; hence, my need for prevarication .