The one(s) that got away...

Reflection is good

Birthdays and new years bring with them an interesting challenge - the "what have you accomplished over the last year(s)? self actualization assessment.  
Being a new year baby I have a double whammy as, even if I might have tried to ignore that "call to assess" had my special day been any other time of the year, now that everyone is doing assessments (or merely talking about doing them... Many of us know the annoyance (or have been the annoyee) of having to wait longer than usual to access our favourite treadmill (or any other machine for that matter) while our gym is innundated by New Year's resolutionists the first 2 - 4 weeks in January... but I digress), I am compelled to proverbially face the music as the pressure to check one's self is stronger at this time of year than any other.

I'm beginning to realise more forcefully that as one gets older, there is a tendency to become more reflective (at least I have).  Reflection is good.  One just needs to learn to draw a line between identifying the mistakes and learning from them, and transcending into a pit of "what ifs?" and"how I wished".  For example, I know quite a few people who recognised the loves of their lives early on and capitalised on that #cheers2them.  On the flip side there are those who only recognised that a former lover, love interest, person they never gave the time of day, could have been theee one, only after the opportunity had passed and their lives had taken polar directions thus making the realisation too late and by extension useless #insertSadTearyEmoji.

I've reflected and seen my screwups and have sought to learn from them...  

Today, as I scraped the inside of my makeup foundation stick, I reflected on the ones I'd tossed when they'd got to the stage when I would need a spoon like object to extract the product (incidentally better than the one I now used).  How prodigal I'd been!  Now all I often think about are the ones I dumped...all that makeup that got away! 
My makeup rescue package is somewhere in snailmailer space but I trust that sooner or later it'll get here (hopefully before this one runs out lol).  Being as rare a shade as I am in my current place of abode, finding makeup to match my dark chocolate hue has proven impossible so I know that when the replacement comes I must not be so quick to discard it just because it has got to the place where using it is not easy and effortless.

Standing in the Hall of Fame

Nobody notices that which is ordinary... at least not right away.




My favourite puzzles have  always been the ones where you have to spot the difference. Naturally I've had fun times playing a personal mental version in my classes since initially all the students, or rather most of them, looked the same to me.  Eight months in though, I've realised that is definitely far from the truth.  Of course some kids stood out right away.  Those who were louder (or quieter), those who wanted to answer all the questions (or tried to dodge eye contact because they didn't want to answer any question).  There were some who, though the haircuts are chiefly same, tried to add some pizzazz to the way they arranged it; and very soon they became "the one who wears three hair pins" or "the one with two pony tails" (or no ponytail); or "the one without a bang".  There was also "the one with the cushion on his chair" or "the one with the potato chips back pack".  I've eventually come to recognise the differences in most of my students, many still however "disappear" into obscurity.

I always wanted to standout - be well known (on my own terms of course - don't think I want the part of people going through my trash or peeking through my window).  Ironically, I got to come to perhaps the most homogeneous country in the world to be the most different, as being one of a handful of black people in my town gives me some amount of popularity LOL.  I remember meeting a lady and during the conversation she said "I think I saw you once before at the mall...a few months ago".  Now maybe that lady did in fact see me and her memory is great, but I stiffled a laugh at her comment because  what I think she meant is  she'd seen a black woman so it must've been me.
The fact I am Jamaican too is added flavour LOL Wi get nuff ratings ennuh (though I continue to disappoint by not being able to do any of the top things for which Jamaicans are often known - run fast, cook well and dance) #disgrace

Naturally I'd want my fame to stem from something I actually had control of LOL but "we play with the toys the gods give us" (Troy 2004) so until I finally write that best seller, I'm gonna work with being inadvertently famous.  

Still, regardless of popularity (or the lack thereof), we each can choose to be our own biggest fans, for in the grand scheme it doesn't matter if the world doesn't know our names.

"I really don't see race..." psssh

Heck, even Stevie Wonder sees race

"Seeing race" is only about your retina converting light into neural signs that instant message your brain to create visual images, as much as "Netflix and chill" is solely about sharing a big bowl of popcorn and binge watching your favourite series with the current guy/girl interest.

I've always mused about what is meant by those who claim not to "see" race.  My conclusion is that it means being able to recognise someone's ethnic difference without making assumptions about, and judging them by it.  After all, all Asians aren't Martial Arts experts, computer geeks or restaurant proprietors; there are black men who are present and stellar fathers; and white men can jump.  
Of course this doesn't negate the scientific differences that are unique to the various races across the world but it also doesn't justify the superiority or inferiority of any race.

Since the announcement of the relationship and subsequent planned nuptials between royal redhead, Harry and Suits star, Megan Markle, so many have tried to make an issue of the actress' ethnicity.  Of course this means I must weigh in on the race thing with my hyaku en ( ￥１００) worth.

For millennia people have 'seen' race.  Aaron and Miriam in the Bible took issue with their brother because he'd married someone who wasn't one of them, so I'm preeetty sure these attitudes aren't going away any time soon.  But the real thing is, there will always be those people who will take issue no matter what.  I know couples whose families had problems with their partner's country of origin - same race, different country and 'everyone knows that people from (insert country name) are (insert stereotype)'.  I've known of others who took issue with the partner's family/ educational background or financial situation - it's not only about race. 

Race, and by extension, race relations, is quite complex but time and experience always alter our perspectives.  Eight months ago when I moved to Asia I was aghast at how ugly/ridiculous some fashion choices looked.  Yet, a few weeks ago, I - a grown woman in her late 30s - wore visible knee high socks as part of my outfit for work... It doesn't look as silly anymore.  That example (though possibly trivial and not at all about race) highlights that given time and a willingness to put aside one's prejudices on an issue, a new outlook is possible... Having lived my entire life (until a few months ago) in the Caribbean, I've only heard of, read and watched movies about racism.  Though there are complexion prejudices in my country of origin, racism doesn't exist there.  But I have seen what racist perspectives can do and I am quite sympathetic to those who've been victimised because of their race.  Still there are more of US (not racist) than THEM (outright racists) so how about just trying to embrace people regardless of their ethnic origin?

The 'faceless' nature of the internet and living in different countries have taught me an awesome lesson.  I have social media friends of different races whom I've never met. Yet some of the things they say and how they behave, mirror that of people of my own race.  The same goes for many of those I now interact with, I actually think, 
"OMG! that's exactly how (a friend of a different race) would respond!"

I'm not scientifically versed so I won't dwell on this, but as far as I know every race in the world has the same four blood types.  And though there may be differences in the prevalence of a certain type in a particular race, at the end of the day I'm sure there is the possibility that Lacretianique's lifecan be saved by Ching Ho's blood and vice versa. 

People are like a box of chocolates.  There are differences and that's what makes interactions so exciting though sometimes testy.  But the main ingredients are the same.  Nothing's wrong with recognising that physically we look different, it'd be rather dumb to pretend we didn't.  

So I guess what I'm saying is, for me when I see people I see race, it's just called the human race.

Damn I forgot my makeup bag

There's nothing quite as humbling as not having your makeup on point (well of course there is, but for the purposes of this post...)

We live in a world where we're constantly being judged (although for some of us half of it is our own doing because we're so addicted to taking selfies and making social media posts), so there is the feeling of a need for keeping appearances powdered to perfection (whatever perfect is). 

I've however long come to a place of relative self acceptance, which for me means I hate my flaws but I no longer feel inferior because of them.  I'll be quick to acknowledge that this acceptance was a long and arduous process.  In fact after I typed and reread that line I realised that I should actually say it "continues to be a long and arduous process" (and it's a process that I have to stick to because I can't afford plastic surgery and walking around with body dismorphia is unhealthy).

Makeup n non-makeup selfie days
#EverydayIsAselfieDay

Interestingly, there was a time in my adult life when I didn't wear as much makeup as I do now.  There are still some days (few they be) when I scrap the eyebrow and winged eyeliner bit and just daub on a bit of powder to control the grease.  Fewer still when I forego makeup altogether and hit the streets au naturel.  Nevertheless, I keep a 'to go' makeup pouch for those on the road touchups that I've deemed are quite necessary, and it is quite annoying when I change bags for an event in the evening then somehow forget to replace that 'to go' pouch into my work bag the following morning #grrr@self.  You can imagine the sheer horror when I reach into my bag for that traffic light touch up (nevermind I just left my house five minutes ago) or worse after lunch (and by then I really need it) and have nothing to use.

There was also a time in the very recent past when those "Damn I forgot my makeup" days would truly dampen my mood.  Because I believed there was a circle of grease in the centre of my forehead or at the tip of my nose (and there probably was), I would try to keep a low profile because I didn't want others taking note of it.  These thoughts of insecurity got worse when I hit the late 30s and started to suffer acne outbreaks; so my problem was now grease AND spots.

I can't point specifically to what has ignited this awakening but I do want to share that it's necessary to stare (or glare) at our perceived flaws meanwhile accepting that 'this is me', and it's such a mentally liberating place to be.  Of course wear the makeup! But I think every woman needs to be at that point where she does not see her made up face as the complete definition of who she is and what she brings to the table.

My mantra now is, it's totally ok to NOT be dolled up all the time, and so makeup should be like a cute little dress or a great outfit, and not an essential, like underwear.

I'm the girl with the dragon tattoo

I think I'm the girl in that movie.  Except for the tattoo of a dragon bit, or having a motorcycle, or the troubled childhood history.  Ok maybe I'm really not the girl in that movie, but I do believe I can identify with her on a certain level.  Granted, this level is in the last 15 seconds or so of the movie but clearly it resonated rather strongly with me.


Lisbeth believes she has a bit of a 'connection' with Mikael (because of other stuff that happens in the movie), buys him an expensive gift, shows up to present it to him, sees him with his girlfriend, dumps the expensive gift in the nearby dumpster and rides off on her Harley (well I know nothing about motorcycles so I don't know what kind she had, just thought a Harley best fit the picture I aimed to create).  


My point however is, I think I can identify with her because I know what unrequited love feels like.  And my advice (i.e what I've done) is MOVE ON!

If you watched the movie (if you haven't then it's an ok enough use of two hours.  It's a little sexually graphic, but there's not too much of that) then you understand how much of a big deal it is that the girl even considers getting this gift.  Sometimes this is what happens. We make major adjustments, step outside of ourselves and our comfort zones and all for naught; but that's sometimes how the cookie crumbles and it's just a reality we have to deal with without making it malign future relationships.

Also, when she tosses the gift I think 'Nooo you've invested so much!'  But all of that doesn't truly matter in the grand scheme because if he/she isn't returning your affection, the ultimate loss is catastrophic if you are continuously pouring into something with cavernous holes.  Despite the cost of the investment, she ditches it and moves on.

When Mikael is walking down the corridor in the arms of his girlfriend I'm a little annoyed because I'm wondering why he can't see she is in no way right for him (for starters she's married... and my empathy is with Lisbeth anyway so...).  The take away from this though is that it doesn't matter.  It's not in one's best interest to point out, or even wait for him/her to realise their mistake (then hopefully turn to you).  After all you'll still end up playing substitute.

Admittedly my heart tugs just a tad when she puts on her helmet (great safety message) and rides away.  That action is the crux of this argument - don't neglet the important things (helmet) because you're heart broken.  How often do we allow disappointment to cloud our vision and stifle our growth?  Her body language suggests that maybe she says "Oh well, whatever" and this approach is mega hard for most of us.  But shrugging it off is going to be the healthiest (and biggest) step in moving on.

This movie was deep on many levels, I've just picked this one...but then maybe all I've said is hogwash and I've created a bunch of stuff from nothing - my students often accused me of doing this in our poetry classes.

Japan Chronicles: Honeymoon

The honeymoon phase  is a term that has come to be popularly understood as that early stage when everything is basically perfect and none of the parties involved are expressing any disappointment/dissatisfaction.  Now I've never been married so I'll quickly disclaim authority on this subject by acknowledging the next couple of sentences as sheer conjecture based on what more supposedly learned (please pronounce learn-ed) ones have said.

sunshine & rainbows = absolute purrrfection

In this stage, assumedly the first 6 months to a year of the marriage, things are basically fresh.  In many instances the couple is still learning about each other.  Although some may have lived together before and known much of what there is to know about the other, there is that newness of being 'Mrs So n So' or having to say 'my wife'.  For most, nothing can go wrong in these early days, or if something goes a tad off target, it's quickly resolved because all is sunshine and rainbows. 

Of course the term is not only used for nuptials and can perhaps be in reference to anything new, so technically I'm in the last stages of my new country/ new job honeymoon.  Call it pessimism, realism or Murphy's lawism; but I've often been one of those guilty of wondering 'when?'  When will all the good vibes and fun times end?  I can't keep track of all the negative stories I've heard of Asian people in general and Japanese in particular when it comes to their relationships with/attitudes towards foreigners, especially towards those like myself of a melanin rich shade.  And though my heart sobs at some of the stories I've heard, to date I haven't had one such experience.  In fact,  I`ve also lost track of the number of people who, because as soon as they see me they recognise I am a foreigner and might be confused because of the language difference, come up to me and ask if I need help (Like today I was in the convenience store using the photocopier and a man came up to me and asked me, in Japanese, if I was ok and understanding how to use the machine.  After telling him I could and thanking him for his help and he continued on his business, I chuckled because he spoke to me in the same language the machine used lolol).

We know I can't tell if people are speaking badly about me; and if I can't understand I don't count it as an affront - as we say back home "wha yeye nuh si heart nuh leap".   So I'll take the kindness at face value.  I'm also old enough to know that race and nationality don't determine one’s love for people so I know there will come a time when people may be unkind to me (hope I'm ready for it).  

I guess the conclusion here is the honeymoon phase will never last and there's nothing wrong with that.  The end of the honeymoon doesn't translate to divorce, it just means the marriage has gone to a different plane (more conjecture of course).  Here, you learn to accept (maybe grow to love... or ignore) the ugly bits.    

Japan Chronicles: Wakarimasen

One of the first words I confidently rolled off my tongue, Japanese accent and all, was 'wakarimasen' - not that the blank 'deer in the headlights' look would not have conveyed a similar message.

Simply translated, wakarimasen means "I don't understand."  Therefore I learned the word so easily out of sheer necessity.  And I use it perhaps five times as many as any of the ten or so words I know (I should do a poll). 

Interestingly though, in a few situations I've actually had the opportunity to utter "wakarimashita" / "wakarimasu".  This is not because my ardent study of the language is yielding fruit, but rather because the context, gestures and facial expressions often allowed me to correctly guess the messages being conveyed (and of course sometimes technology helped).    


Those times I naturally do a mental version of a happy dance but I also reflect on an aspect of the subject, Communication Studies, that I taught when I lived in my home country.  The communication process is a very interesting one and watching it unfold makes me giddy with excitement.  

Today while I waited in the doctor's office I took the opportunity to catch up on some writing.  An older woman sat beside me and once or twice from the periphery I noticed her glancing at my notebook.  I wasn't bothered because I highly doubted that she understood what I wrote (and it wouldn't have mattered if she did).  Not long after that asked me (in Japanese) if I could speak Japanese.  The mere fact that I understood her question made me do a couple back flips, mentally of course (after all it would have been highly inappropriate to do the physical kind then and there).

She asked (also in Japanese) where I was from and yes, I answered in Japanese.  She asked (in a mixture of English and Japanese) if I liked Japan and what Japanese foods I liked and I answered in kind.  I chuckle now thinking what my very hoarse and badly accented answers must have sounded like to her.  There were many times after she'd said something that I paused, leaned my head, squinted my eyes and furrowed my brows in deep concentration, not trying to remember the translation of the word she'd used (although I'm sure the average onlooker would interpret those actions as such), but trying to see if I could somehow guess what she could have been asking LOL - in my head I was playing a game (I'm not as sensible as I look) but more often than not 'wakarimasen' was the result.

I commended her English (which was perhaps only marginally better than my Japanese LOL but kudos for the effort) and she acknowledged that she only remembered some English from high school; and based on the fact she appeared to be someone about my mother's age group it would have been quite a while ago (esp since I left HS more than 20 yrs ago..OMG!).

Not surprising, our conversation stalled shortly after and Google Translate became our medium of polite conversation (I got a little carried away and she did the Japanesey thing of only vaguely indicating that my translating aid was too loud and might be disturbing ... oh crap! How could I have forgot about not having loud conversation in public? I looked around rapidly for someone to whom I'd offer an apology but the lone woman nearby was not even looking in our direction.

By the time we were ready to part company, the woman had given me her address, telephone number and email and invited me to bring my friends and come have a meal with her and her husband.  At least that's what I think I wakarimashita. 

Baby Fever

OMG not this again!

Perhaps one of the most recurring rebuffs that some childless women (doubt this is politically correct) have to make is in response to "but don't you want a mini you?"

I can't recall (at least in recent years - i.e since I got out of my teens) looking at a kid and thinking "oooh I want one of those."   Before you gasp that I'm a monster and demonize me, let me quickly say I love children (albeit other people's children) but I love being around them, playing with them or watching them play.  I'm even willing to try to help change them or calm them when they're fussy.  I'll gladly supervise playdates and babysit too.  But I can't think of another thing more satisfying than the reality of going to my childfree apartment.

When I see/think of children, especially when they are very small, I'm aghast that people would abuse or neglect them.  My heart weeps at such cases.  But does that translate into wanting one?

I've been told that my view comes from a place of selfishness and maybe those people are correct.  I am absolutely certain that I don't want to spend nights trying to get someone to stop crying and go to sleep.  I know I don't want to have to get up every three hours at night to give anyone food - having to get up to pee is frustrating enough and believe me, I've been tempted to just don adult pampers and deal with that mess in the morning.

"You'll change your mind" 
I've been often told, and maybe I will.  After all there was a time in my life when I had an aversion to the colour pink, and a time when I disapproved of interracial unions.  So who knows?  Maybe my 45 year old self will decide it wants to have a baby and thanks to medical advancement such a thing is not entirely risky.

"You'll never know real love until you love your child"
You perhaps will not know real worry until then too.  Worry that he/she might get hurt, might get drawn into bad company, might fail at school, career, life.  In fact you'll never know many things in life and although it's not always true, you can't miss something that you never had...can you?

I don't know what's worse: the "Happy future Mother's Day" greetings from people who know you have no children or the 'understanding' nod and smile they give you when you try to convince them you are totally ok with the fact you have no children.  I used to be annoyed, now I just smile and accept the gesture as well meaning. People usually respond to other people based on where they are in their own lives and many believe that having a child is the ultimate definition of womanhood. There is therefore often genuine sympathy for the woman who has not "achieved" this, especially if the woman is in the latter stages of the customary child bearing years.  It's dumb but they mean well so I forgive them and move on.

Then of course there are always the religious 'pundits' who pontificate that by not desiring children you have committed some kind of a sin since God commanded man to be fruitful and multiply (never mind all that bit about replenishing the earth after the flood).  At those times I retract my claws, take a deep breath, find my inside voice and calmly remind them that Jesus said "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and Love your neighbour as yourself " were the commandments on which all others lay... and none of the others mentioned child bearing.  So unless someone was able to show me "Thou shalt not refuse to have a child," then that person needed to shut up and walk away.

Wouldn't it be truly ironic if in 9 months or 9 years someone reads this back to me at my baby shower?  Now that would be embarrassing. 

Japan Chronicles: Foodology

Do you know what a foodie is?  Are you a foodie?   

Pork thing and Soba

I know people who hum when it's time to eat.  Some even shake some part of their body - do a little bit of a dance.  Is it involuntary?  I'm not sure.  They're so excited about the prospect of food that this is how their body responds and they can't do much about it perhaps.  I used to be disgusted by people who responded like that, after all it's just food.  Then I realised that because we're different our levels of excitement about different things will manifest themselves differently.    


There are others who like to talk about food - it's texture, the recipe, the identifiable types of seasoning.  I shared an apartment for a few years with a friend who was a definite foodie.  She would often seek to tell me about the recipe of some dish she'd seen being prepared on the Food Network, even try to include me in her occasional analysis of possible alternative ingredients because the ones offered were difficult to obtain, expensive or fattening. Because she knew I didn't really care she would most often preface these conversations with "I know you're not really interested but..." then proceed to tell me anyway.  And because we were friends I could be honest with her by faking a yawn or rolling my eyes as she would try to share the details. 

No clue what this was

Food for me has been chiefly related to convenience, sustenance and curiosity.  Because of this, I will try anything.  I'll then decide if I liked it enough to have it again or not. 

Seafood Medley of sorts

I mostly consume Japanese food via school lunches.  Half the time I have no clue what I'm having and I'm ok with that.  Sometimes I can identify its category (meat/seafood/vegetable/root) but many times I'm not even sure of that - doesn't really matter anyhow.  


A major difference between Japanese and Caribbean food is the seasoning.  Japanese food is bland (at least to my Caribbean palate) while Caribbean food is spicy and flavoured.  It still doesn't negate the adventure I've been having by trying things that don't exist, are not considered edible, or just taste different because of preparation styles, in the Caribbean (for food, like many other things, is impacted by cultural heritage).

One mince thing - could have been beef  - and tofu

I promised myself I'd learn the preparation method of even one thing so that I can meet the social expectation of being able to prepare a Japanese dish when I visit home.  I always laugh at myself when I go out and see other people querying recipes and I join in the conversation with feigned interest.  I'd better get genuine, pay attention and record the recipe next time.

Rice and eggs are pretty much staples ...Oh n seaweed

Kudos to the people who study food and enjoy preparing and creating varieties for it.  I don't really care but I know tens of people do.