If the Bluebirds Sing, I'm Out of Here

So because I've been getting stuff for other people and nothing for myself, I decided to spend the beginning of my last week in Japan in Ikebukuro becoming materialistic. I seriously spent about 5 hours in Sunshine City. (And theoretically more, since I went home to watch Durarara)
The mall is pretty huge, but I was able to ask in Japanese for a map in English, which is an important phrase for anyone to know. ("Eigo no chizu ga arimas ka?") I got some ridiculously cute Japanese earrings- I'd always wanted a pair. Something so adorable and girly that people would look at them and say, "You've gone to Tokyo, haven't you?" I think mission accomplished.

I was also debating getting a pair of geeky glasses (you know, giant horn-rimmed ones) just to wear for the hell of it. I'd seen them the first time I'd come to Sunshine City, so I was kind of coming back for them, I guess. But as I was just about to by them, I heard a voice in my ear, a tiny voice that sounded like my friend from university. "You goddamn hipster," it said fondly, like he always does when I do something disgustingly indie.
I put the glasses back.
Thanks, dude, for stopping me from making a frivolous completely goddamn hipster shopping choice.

I finally went to Namjatown, which I didn't do the first time because from what I perceived, it was just a food court where you had to pay 300 yen to get in and then more for food, which I thought was ridiculous.



( Talking Heads, Talking Platforms )