I’M GOING TO TOKYO, JAPAN.

Just wanted to get that out of the way! I’ll say this again later, and delve deeper into the subject. What is important now is that I have a new job. I am the personal assistant to Baltimore’s resident artist, Shawn Theron. Dude’s a pretty all right guy. Well, he’s a lot more than that. I’ve actually known him for a long, long time. He used to be my brother’s roommate when they lived together in COCKEYSVILLE, MARYLAND. He used to write situational comedies about towns called Hampden; now he puts paint on wood. My job may or may not include priming stacks and stacks of wood with this really spectacular white paint. I get to wear a mask that makes me sound like Darth Vader and everything. Because I’m dealing with white paint under the glaring sun, Shawn makes me put on these crazy sunglasses as to not “fry [my] retinas.” This is a pretty validated concern. One time, when Shawn wasn’t looking, I gave that wood-painted-white a good, long stare. I’m talking… well, the way you’d look at an elderly man falling off the roof of a school bus. Or a beautiful Russian girl wearing a pink eye patch. I basically ruined my eyesight for like two hours. He’s a man of principle and safety.

A PLACE I AM GOING TO: TOKYO, JAPAN.

Shawn gave me these really great herbs from his kitchen. One of them was dill, which I was told to put in my eggs. The other one is a leafy green sort of thing. I was not told what to do with this. Hell, I’ll probably end up putting it in my cereal just because I’m like that. He also gave me a table that lights up and a big piece of sharp metal. This is artwork! I may put it on the wall. It’s sort of heavy, however, and I’m afraid of it ripping the nails out of the wall.

When I’m not putting herbs in my cereal or painting slabs of wood, I’m usually holed up in my creative stronghold, playing guitar or wishing I were playing guitar. I’m going to play guitar while I’m Japan, but I’ll probably play a lot more drums. Or rather, I’ll play drums more often. I’ve been practicing these, too. I need to practice more. It’s just so difficult since I have such a small time frame in which to practice. I have neighbors! Living a modular lifestyle has its up days and it has its downs. The downs, of course, being that I figured out what they’re building behind my house: a bridge of some sort. Maybe it’s just a road, who knows. I’ll probably take a picture of it at some point.

MY ONLY FRIENDS AT COLLEGE ARE WILY BLACK GIRLS WHO MIGHT THINK THAT I AM A WILY BLACK GIRL, TOO. ALSO: GOING TO JAPAN.

It’s true — they’re my most trusted companions. We giggle and laugh and comment on everything in the back of my literature class. They’ve got me using “girl” as a sentence-opener (i.e. girl, what is even wrong witchu?). Basically all we do is giggle. I almost asked one of them, “Hey… do you want anything from Tokyo?” out of pure comradery and excitement. They’re my favorite, though. Second place goes to the girl in my Russian culture class who stares at me as if it isn’t blatantly obvious (s’up preferential vision), before dropping her head to the desk and instantly falling asleep out of pure exhaustion/boredom. Man! Third place goes to this big-ass fat guy who breathes so heavily you’d think Jabba the fucking Hutt is trying to verbally molest me with a megaphone. He loves to sit directly in front of me, breathing up all the air in the room, all the while wearing a goddamn ushanka WITH THE EAR FLAPS POINTED UP. Last time I checked, there wasn’t a dress code to Russian class. I sometimes wish that I could go through life with that same audience of wily ol’ black girls every step of the way. They’d always have my back and we’d always be happy. Well… at the very least, we could make fun of everything. Essentially every problem in my life could be resolved with a, “OH NO HE JUST DID-N’T.” We’d all wear ushankas, too. I think I’m going to start Monday.

Speaking of days of the week: I’M GOING TO TOKYO, JAPAN ON WEDNESDAY. This is not a joke! I am actually going to get on a plane and fly to the ORIENT. Isn’t it only old white people who call it that? I’m pretty sure I’d never refer to someone as “oriental”. Hell, Japan isn’t even called Japan at all to its own inhabitants. In case you hadn’t realized, I will be an inhabitant of Japan for 13 days. I’m probably just going to walk around and eat really great food and tell you about it every day. Every single day, guys. I’m going to stop off at roadside ramen stands and just cry my eyes out; sit for a spell and let my tears sizzle as they snap the surface of the almost-boiling broth. I am going to cry into soup and I want everyone to know it. Jacob, go ahead and whip something up in MS Paint so I can use it for a ‘feature’ button. In the picture (which, again, will be drawn inPpaint), I want you to draw me crying into a ball of ramen. Make sure it’s raining, and be sure that my fellow ramen patrons, as well as the weathered old cook, are in a state of mourning. We’re all just crying like children over our disillusioned paths in a world of black and white, and although we don’t speak the same language, our tears blend together to form a river of international sadness, which pours into the streets only to flow eternally with the chilly Tokyo rain. Oh, and Xzibit watching down over us from his divine perch in the heavens above for no reason. And he’s raking some leaves.

I have to take two planes to get there. One of them will take me to Detroit. Detroit, guys. How shitty is that? I’m going to touch down in Detroit and immediately be mauled and crucified by car manufacturers and jobless city-dwelling yokels who used to make cars. So I might not even make it to Tokyo. Should I survive, I’ll be staying with Tim Rogers for a few days, and possibly with this lovely man named John. Apparently I’ve had closets bigger than John’s place, so who knows how that will work out. Other than that, I’m going to sleep in capsule hotels and internet cafes. That is, when I’m in Kyoto. What I’m going to be doing in Kyoto, well, I don’t know. Here is my current itinerary:

• Go to Japan

Give it a once-over and let me know what you think. I’m also interested to hear what you all want from the land of the rising fun, as the only answer I’m ever given is, “I DUNNO SOMETHIN’ COOL,” or, “AN USHANKA, PLZ.” I am offering you the chance to have a real, warm-blooded white 20-something-year-old buy you something in Asia’s Japan. If you don’t pick something, I’m mailing you a random Super Famicom cart, which may or may not be Battle Tycoon. You seriously don’t want this. Hell, I don’t even know what that game is, but you’re going to get it.

SO CHOOSE WISELY. Somebody better post an article or something in the next three days, or else it’s going to be two weeks of Tokyo and man are you going to hate that! I love you all equally, so, uh, goodnight!

(P.S. – I’M GOING TO TOKYO. I’m also (possibly, probably) missing the cherry blossoms by, like, three days so do not mess with me.)