Justified... Tokyo Delivers

We knew it was going to be a good concert week not only because we had tickets to Coldplay's show but also because we spent Sunday reading our new "bible" Metropolis Japan's #1 English Magazine at our favorite brunch spot Good Honest Grub. Performing this week were BlackEyed Peas, Cold Play, and Justin Timberlake.

Tuesday, July 18th - It was one of those days that started off so wrong (slept through the alarm, realized my allergies were back, put too much water in my oatmeal, dropped subway pass in a puddle - you get the idea) and lucky for me and Monica ended up so right!

Upon arrival to work (read 45 min. subway ride, schlepping computer bag in the rain and trying to balance umbrella wearing a skirt because it is so freaking hot here pants are rarely an option) at my client and waiting a solid 15 min for the elevator to the not so spectacular and smelling of cigarette smoke 20th floor I opened my laptop and began to what I knew was going to be a truly dreadful day. The only glimmer of hope was that the Coldplay concert was a mere 10 hours away. I won't bore you with the details of the day because it was like so many others I have had here - filled with miscommunication, strange realizations, and unanswered questions.

Our plan was simple leave work at 6pm, take 2 trains and arrive at the concert at 7pm... at 6:20pm after a mini-melt down, Monica snapped me out of my funk and demanded we leave work behind and head to the concert. We had a good hunch Gwyneth would be there (call it woman's intuition). After 1 wrong train ride and a desperate need for nourishment, we arrived at the concert at 8:10pm only to learn that ONLY IN JAPAN does a concert actually start on time! So we enjoyed the remaining 40 min of a truly spectacular show - the band was amazing, Chris Martin is crazy and has tons of energy and the venue, Nippon Budakon similar to a high school auditorium, was intimate and had great sound. After the concert we opted for people watching rather than fighting the crowds back to the subway since it was only 9pm. For several minutes we stood on the curb and watched as hundreds of concert goers moved along the sidewalks with their "government issued" umbrellas. Seriously, everyone has the same clear, plastic, white handled umbrellas they have to be given as a right of passage. Needing a pick me up (from the rain, work, and arriving late to the concert) and preferably a bar we lied out options for possible celebrity sightings - Park Hyatt, Four Seasons, or Grand Hyatt. We decided on the Park Hyatt for 3 reasons:
1. We knew the bar we pretty cool from our restaurant visit
2. We were already on that subway line
3. We didn't know how to get to the other 2 hotels

We sauntered up to the bar (which is really a misnomer because even the bar area has hostesses, hosts, and serves) on the 53rd floor and were informed there would be a 2000 yen cover charge (about $20). Without giving it a second thought, both Monica and I said "Ok. We'd like a table for 2." The host led us to a table 1 row away from the windows, as we were about to sit down, I noticed a VERY familiar face sitting at the table next to the windows. Monica sat facing the bar and I sat facing the windows. At this point my heart started racing and I looked over at Monica who was so calm and collected I assumed she had NO idea who was sitting 2 arm lengths away from us. I said to her, "Ok, promise you won't flip out when I tell you who is here?" Monica was now very excited and started looking around the bar. I said "Focus on me, focus on me. Now I don't want you to make any sudden movements or scream, but JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE is sitting at the table to your right."

He looked just like he does in People magazine and was wearing jeans and a gray sweatshirt with a hood. His posse included his mother, brother, and 3 brunette females (2 of which were very attractive yet dressed very casual, the third was not so attractive). Cameron was no one in site. The posse was eating and drink a variety of things however Justin was drinking tea - most likely in preparation for Thursday's show. After 2.5 hours of sitting at the table next to him and a few moments of eye contact, I mustered up the courage, as we were leaving, to go up and talk to him. Here's how the conversation (yes, full fledge conversation!) went down:

Julie: I don't mean to interrupt your evening, it really looks like you all are enjoying yourselves but I wanted to say I'm a big fan.
Justin: Thanks, thanks a lot.
Julie: It is really nice to see westerners here and being to have a conversation in English.
Justin, Justin's Mom, Female 1: Yeah, we know what you mean.
Justin: How long have you been here?
Julie: 9 weeks.
Justin: What are you doing here?
Julie: I'm working here until October. My friend and I saw Cold Play tonight - it was a great show.
Justin: Cool, we're going to see them tomorrow night
Julie: That's great!
Justin: Where are you from?
Julie: Atlanta. Well, I better be going.
Justin: I didn't catch your name. (extending right hand)
Julie: It's Julie (extending right hand)
Justin: I'm Justin (shaking hands with Julie) so, Cameron's not here tonight, care to pull up a seat? (Just kidding he didn't say anything about Cameron or ask me to sit down but we did shake hands)
Julie: Nice to meet you. Have a good night
Justin: Bye

I was able to remain calm and gracefully round the corner to the elevators where Monica was anxiously waiting my report. As soon as she asked what happened, I started jumping up and down and fully fell on the floor due to excitement - I JUST HAD A CONVERSATION WITH JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE!! I shared the details of the convo and we hailed a taxi home. On the way I called Ellen (who put me on speaker with her office) and relayed the scene.

Needless to say Monica and I are going back to see Coldplay tonight and may even go to see Justin in concert on Thursday night. While the past few weeks of work and weather have been less than enjoyable, seeing, meeting, and chatting with Justin made it all worthwhile!

Mail Call

You can only imagine how exciting it is to get mail here! At home I get (the ever present) wedding/shower invitation however here I'm lucky if I get something I can actually understand let alone have an interest in.

Remember at summer camp when the mail would come and everyone would crowd around to see if they were lucky enough to get something? Well, that's kind of what it is like at the KSA office when the Fed-Ex man arrives. Ok, I do have to admit I never went to summer camp (unless you consider Camp Sandy Cove which doesn't really count because the camp counselors were Mom and Aunt Ann and campers included my cousins however the arts and crafts did constitute "true summer camp activities") but I think you know what I mean.

I had yet to be on the receiving end of the mail call until a week or so ago when I received not 1 but 2 packages!!! Plus one package for both Monica and me!

Package 1: from Ellen, including important mail I had received (beautiful wedding invite Freshman!), candles, and the most treasured items: PEOPLE MAGAZINES! (These are about $10 here so it is really hard to justify making the purchase just to catch up on celebrity gossip. However due to a very rough day last week I did bit the bullet and purchased Us for $8 just to feel connected to the states not via a computer!)


Package 2: from Raquel (Atlanta AA), a key item for the upcoming trip to Hong Kong - replacement shoes (see Guest Blogger Monica - Top Losses). You can bet that I will be extra careful not to lose one of these again. However if I do lose one I hope it's the left one otherwise I will have 2 left shoes - ugh!

Package 3: from Susan Lin, more People magazines, other tabloids, and Vogue. Monica nearly passed out at the sight of an English version of Vogue. Many thanks Susan!

Claire also benefited from the magazines (which are banded in China so she was super excited)
because Monica and I are nice enough to share - after we were done reading them of course :)

This is a picture of me at National grocery store in Roppongi but I thought it fit quite well with this blog.

Just in case any blog readers out there would like to make a contribution to my happiness while thousands of miles from my friends and family where I don't speak or read the language ...

Julie Donaldson
Kurt Salmon Associates
Akasaka Nakagawa Building
3-11-3 Akasaka
Minato-ku Tokyo Japan 1070052

Monica Reports Again

Hi everyone, I'm back for another stint as the guest blogger. I've been assigned to report on "Japanese Massage Parlors: A Study in Contrasts."

B. Gardens Spa, Tokyo
Friday, June 23, 10:30 p.m.

Julie and I had just left a Spanish tapas bar, where the KSA office had thrown a going away party for Shinya. David was walking us to the subway station and along the way we passed a spa called B. Gardens. "How great would a massage be right now?" we wondered, noticing they were open til 5am (how random is that?). David, who is bilingual, dispelled any fears that this was one of "those" kinds of massage places. We decided to partake in aromatherapy massages so David communicated to the Japanese receptionist what we wanted. There was some fear that as a twisted joke he had asked them in Japanese to set Julie and me up for a couples massage, but this was not the case and the experience turned out to be nothing less than sublime. We each had hour long massages that were undeniably the best we'd ever had, better than the best massage in the states. Lavender scented hot towels, fuzzy robes, flickering candles, buckwheat eye masks-- we got the whole nine yards. Floating on air, we were escorted into the waiting area and given glasses of fresh squeezed yuzu juice as we dealt with our denial about having to return to the real world. The massage therapists didn't speak much English, but I think they understood through our ear-to-ear grins and jello-like posture that we were very happy. We asked them their names for our next visit, and as we left the spa they followed us halfway down the block bowing and waving. This was a definite win.


No name massage parlor, 4th floor, random building in Tokyo
Friday, July 30, 11:30 p.m.
"Claire... omigod, you have to come to this spa with us next time. We got the most amazing massages-- we're dying to go back!" This was part of the conversation Julie, Claire and I had over dinner at Fish Bank. Three flights of wine later, we've paid our bill and have decided to go by B. Gardens for massages...after all, it's only 11:00 pm and they're open all night. We were met with complete and total and utter disappointment at B. Gardens when they told us they were booked for the next 2 hours. Well surely there had to be something similar down the street, right? We must have passed countless sandwich boards and signs for massages along the way.

Call it impaired judgment, call it stupidity, whatever... but we ended up at some random massage place on the 4th floor of a nameless building. They could accommodate the 3 of us at the same time, and within 10 minutes. Sold! Were we concerned that the waiting area smelled like smoke, the sofa was covered in clear plastic (like at your grandmother's house), that a TV was blaring a Japanese game show? Not so much. Were we concerned that the massage area was a mere 5 feet away and we could see a man's arms and legs being maneuvered to and fro by the masseuse? Not so much. Were we concerned when 10 minutes later said man came out from behind a curtain zipping his fly? Maybe a little bit. Ok, so obviously you're all asking, "Why the hell didn't you guys leave?" Unfortunately, I do not have a good answer to this question.

Moving on...the three of us are escorted to the back, where we're shown three beds side by side by side, with hospital curtains pulled open so that it's one big room. "Ummm...not so much," Julie said and drew the curtains back together so each bed was closed off. We put on the flannel pajamas that were provided, and thus began the nightmare. The "massage" consisted of a series of moves that nobody in their right mind would subject themselves to. They dug their fingers and knuckles into random parts of our backs and as the pain became unbearable and we pulled away, they would push harder. They hooked a towel under our chins and jerked it back. They stuck their fingers in our ears and wiggled (yes, WTF?). They yanked our arms out of the sockets. They stacked towels on our backs and butts and actually climbed onto the bed and JUMPED on us. In my head, I was actually rehearsing a conversation with Jerry, the MD of the North America practice, explaining to him why we had to attend the upcoming steering committee meeting in traction and in neck braces. Each of us was having our own personal preview of hell-- separately yet simultaneously. After the torture session ended and they stopped violating us, the three of us quickly got dressed, paid, and got into the elevator without talking or making eye contact. At that point, I burst into tears. Definitely not a happy ending, at least not for us.