Vegas: Last day in town

It's always a little bittersweet when you call it and close out your tab in any particular location, knowing you won't be stopping back again any time soon. The city of Las Vegas, for better or worse, has served the designation of being my launch point, my hometown, the old familiar, for the vast majority of my life thus far. I was born somewhere in the city, in a hospital one evening some eons ago, and I graduated elementary to high school within the warm glow of the neon's periphery. A certain pride and obstinance is needed to be among those who remain, the residents of a city that thrives on transients when everyone is always leaving. To dig in deep into the dusty soil and somehow take root takes strong, deep-running arteries that can miraculously find the water from nothing. It's a tough city that will eat the reckless alive if given the chance, so you'd better not give it the chance. Personally, I was never much for gambling, so all the chittering machines with their varied animations never really enticed me much. Sometimes Antho will point out a machine to me as we pass through a casino because of the theme, like a Lord of the Rings themed machine or Ghostbusters one, but I've never actually fed any cash into them. While table games make a little more sense in their appeal, I've never wanted to try my luck playing them much, either, after seeing friends and acquaintances struggle with temptation. Vegas is a great place to visit, but if you're not into the heat, gambling, or fending off perpetual hucksters and sleazy salespeople eager to take advantage of any doe-eyed tourist, there are perhaps better cities to seek out in the name of home. 

And this, folks, was the space we called home for the better part of a year and a half. Antho, myself, all of our tie-dye, the squeakers, and the majority of the rest of our belongings were crammed into that little space. We bought a refrigerator somewhere along the line but given that it was our's we took it when we left. We pretty much left the place in the condition it was originally presented to us in, minus some diatomaceous earth that had been scattered around as pest control prior to our arrival. While it was definitely on the smaller side as we had multiple dressers, bookshelves, a computer desk, cages, a microwave, and more, we made it work and believe it or not it was an upgrade from the living situation I came back to upon returning from Korea. While I won't delve into that dark time, look at that super-efficient studio (my company apartment in Japan was bigger) and know that this was the escape. And now, finally, it's time to strike out for bigger and brighter things!

Naturally, the sky decided to give us all the cotton candy for our last sunset in the city. Right on!

Vegas: Leaving Las Vegas

Well, it was only a matter of time, wasn't it? I've talked about it a few times in the blog, but never solidly committed to a timeframe for our departure from the city of Sin because our intended launch date kept changing. Ironically, we found ourselves packing our vehicles (a cargo van and my long-suffering champ of a Volvo) at what is the starting point of most of the best weather you'll see in Vegas and the coincidental start of poopie weather seasons throughout much of the rest of the United States. These things. I'd intended to leave a month or two earlier, when the stresses of working with someone I found extremely difficult to be around were pressing harder upon me and making my day to day more difficult, and the heat was at its peak. Things timed out so that my original plans fizzled out, but the delay didn't deter us from committing to our departure, even when unexpected car-repairs caught us off guard days before our lease was up on our little studio near downtown, or even poorly-timed trips to the DMV didn't stop us. 

With everything we owned stacked up, buckled in, or otherwise crammed into our two vehicles, along with our two remaining rodents (Oliver and Buttercup) riding alongside us in each of our cars as copilot, we hit the road. There's something about going on a road trip, embarking on that journey from one state to another, that makes your booty tingle, doesn't it? Maybe that's just me, then. From Vegas, we headed North East towards the extra-terrestrial highway. It's a good 2 hours or so to get there, and we left rather late in the day, so by the time we found our way to the Alien Research Center it had closed up for the day. Bummer! Even so, we had quite a ways to go yet, so after snapping a photo for posterity's sake, we loaded back into the car and started off again. There were a few issues along the way, of course...like the realization that my reverse no longer wanted to engage, even though I'd just paid a shop in Vegas $650 to supposedly take care of that problem for me...womp womp. We had to push my old girl out of a narrow driveway when I panicked and turned too early, missing the turn-off for the ET highway in the dark, which was really nerve-wracking in the middle of the night! Once we got back on track and found our way to the extraterrestrial highway proper, it was pretty much a straight shot through to Tonopah and then up North towards Reno. The drive along the ET highway was overall pretty uneventful, aside from a close encounter with some large black cows who'd slowly been meandering their way across a highway with a speed limit of 70 mph. Luckily for everyone involved, there were no injuries or issues, just some serious spooking! It's one of America's most desolate highways, so I was a little nervous about any potential mechanical issues arising, as who's going to stop and help you? During the hours we drove through central Nevada, we barely passed anyone else along the road, and at many points the highway was barely even illuminated due to the absence of streetlights. It's pretty intense driving late at night, especially knowing you're driving through Area 51 territory. The base itself is, of course, off limits to civilians, so you won't be casually rolling up to any barbed wire gates but when the only lights are the stars above and the low-glow of your headlights, it's hard not to let your mind wander to all those stories...

Keep adventuring my friends!

💗

XOXO,

NAU

Vegas: F*ck you. I'm trying to have a good time

Say what you will about Frank Sinatra and the Rat-Pack, and I don't give a rat's ass what any of those headlining mega-stars that adorn any given showroom on the Las Vegas Strip on any given night might hope to say, you've got to look out to the people on the streets to get the real read on Vegas. What sentence better sums up the ethos behind the city of sin and revelling in hedonistic excesses quite like his sign? Fuck you. I'm trying to have a good time. That could be the advertising slogan for the city, where your entertainment and depravity is of the utmost priority! Behaviors and ensembles that would be considered abhorrent or embarrassing back home are not only given the light of day but a green-light pass as every casino's glittering orifice promises to indulge you in excess, whether your poison be booze, boobs, or buffets. Eat to your triple-bypass-coronary-heart's delight and load up plate after plate with greasy glistening goodies, fresh from the kitchens! You can even get paddled for not finishing your towering portions of food at the Heart Attack Grill, if you're into getting food-shamed in front of strangers, because why not. Not enough alcohol in your Fat Tuesday's tower of neon-colored-oblivion? Get some extra shots in that beeyotch! Because, why not, baby? It's Vegas! If, in your pursuit of having a good time, things might get out of hand, never you fear. That's what it's all about, after all, isn't it? Should you find yourself laying spread-eagle on your belly upon a cold linoleum floor in front of the bathrooms at Harrah's, awash in the highlighter-hues of your drink of doom, security and medical staff will be there to hoist you back up again and jettison you off to a hospital for quick tending to if need be...if you're a tourist, of course. If, on the other hand, you look a bit more like our friend above, a victim of a good time that derailed hard, security will be happy to escort you from the premises expeditiously. Wouldn't want the out of towners to get a glimpse of their potential future, after all, should their good time get out of hand. 

But fuck you. I'm trying to have a good time.

Japan: Urayasu life and gardens

Unfortunate, though familiar as it may sound to many of us, when I lived in Japan I found the majority of my time was utterly consumed with work.  Due to the fact that my living in the country was utterly predicated upon keeping my employment with the Arribas Brothers as an artist/performer in Tokyo Disney Sea, it should be understandable why this would be such a prominent priority, but it inevitably leads to a routine that could grow a bit monotonous if I didn't consciously strive to break free of it from time to time.  Most days involved a brief attempt to get coffee or some form of sustenance into my gullet before darting off for the bus, changing into my uniform at the employee lockers and then spending the rest of the visible sunlight hours in my subterranean drawing-den, cranking out caricatures until we were finally granted permission to shutter up for the day and go home. Arriving home late, sore and dreading the countdown until it was time to hit reset and start the routine over again, I would cook up or scavenge some food, decimate some beverages and go to sleep. Lather, rinse, repeat. 

Day in day out spent primarily indoors. Naturally, my days off were a blessing! Aren't they always? Since I was given the opportunity to live and work overseas, I'd try to take advantage of that fact and explore the neighborhood or city of Tokyo proper whenever I had the energy or motivation. I have to admit, some days it was much more difficult than others to drag myself out of the house and into the city, but it was always worth the endeavor in the end. On this particular outing, I stopped to compliment my neighbor for her beautiful garden, pictured above- this led to us becoming friends and going on some adventures together later on! You never know what kind of things can come together like that unless you get out there and try, you know? She invited me out to have lunch with her after our discussion about her garden, fennel, and my obviously being from out of town. She showed me a lovely little restaurant not far from our home that I never would have thought to try if not for her suggestion, so again, get out there and do the things! Talk to the people! Be brave!

As always,

💘

XOXO,

NAU

Vegas: Yet another scorpion

I've had the luck to have been able to live in several different cities around the world throughout my life, from the world-renowned den of sin and glittering desert city of Las Vegas, Nevada, to the densely populated metropolis jungle of Tokyo, Japan or the fast-paced, fashion-forward capitol of Seoul, South Korea. Every city I've lived in has offered its various pros and it's cons, like the crowds on the Tokyo and Seoul subways, trains and busses, or the creepy crawlies with a poisonous sting that can invade your home, such as the scorpions in Las Vegas ranking high among my cons lists. Generally speaking, the desert landscape isn't hospitable to too many species of insect, so while you'll occasionally spot a Black Widow spider, moth, or daddy long legs, you're not likely to encounter too many mosquitos- or lightning bugs, either. The environment, being a harsh, desiccated wasteland low in readily available resources, fosters only the toughest of beasts, and unfortunately for the residents of Las Vegas and it's outlying areas, scorpions are among those that thrive.  

These tiny little scorpions are especially fearsome, as those stingers on the end of their tails aren't just for show! While their sting isn't necessarily lethal, unless you have an allergy or are immunocompromised (like an infant or the elderly), they can be extremely uncomfortable to receive. I have absolutely zero desire to ever be the recipient of their wrath, and any time we've encountered one in our living space we've extracted it by using chopsticks to keep a safe distance from (and a measure of control over) their tail. Some people might go out of their way to test their bravery or manhood by taking a sting, I wouldn't recommend it. To each their own, but personally, I'll stay far away from any scorpions I come across. 

Japan: Yurakucho Food Alley in Tokyo

Throughout most of Tokyo, as is the case for probably most of urban Japan as well, you're rarely ever more than a stone's throw away from something delicious to eat. There's a lot of people living in Tokyo, like, around 38 million or so people these days. That's a lot of people needing something to nosh after a long day, yeah? My hometown of Las Vegas only comes in as averaging around 2 million residents, while my second-home in Seattle has roughly 7 and a half million residents and my beloved third home of Seoul clocks in with roughly 25.6 million residents. Suffice to say, Tokyo has a lot of residents, and those people are going to need food. Ideally, they're going to want good food, because anyone can just pop into a 711 and grab an onigiri or bento if they want low-cost sustenance.  Where, pray tell, does the average salaryman find himself stopping for a bite after an arduous day of, uh, salary-manning? One popular location is going to be Yurakucho food alley, a narrow street tucked under the tracks of the Yamanote line is teeming with restaurants on either side offering delicious bites and something to sip on, too. The typical solution to this need-to-feed (and drink) is an izakaya, where small plates are served alongside lots of booze, to help take the edge off while facilitating your buzz. If you need something a little more nourishing, there are plenty more restaurants to fill that niche, too!

On this particular outing, my friend A-chan and I opted for a grilled beef restaurant, though other dishes were, of course, available, like that big plate of gooey cod fish-sperm goodness shown above on the right known as shirako (which, yes, I absolutely ate). There were also places to pop in for yakitori, or grilled chicken, along with a restaurant serving horse, a coffee shop, and several other options tucked away into the narrow space so your options aren't limited to be sure. Most of the restaurants had a shared restroom, found not far from our seating spot at the beef place, and most of the restaurants are enclosed by sliding plastic barriers, a common trend throughout the region (as I've seen it in Hong Kong and Seoul, too). Suffice to say, if you need a tasty meal, you can't go wrong by following the hard-working salarymen who's tireless efforts keep the economy of Tokyo churning along into the narrow space of Yurakucho alleyway. Where better to literally rub elbows with the local people? 

Vegas: Sushi Twister

When it's time to #TREATYOSELF, to pick out one of your utmost favorite, most luxurious and decadent choices to eat, what would you choose? For me, there's no doubt I'd veer hard into the seafood section, especially towards things like sea urchin, sweet shrimp, salmon, and salmon roe. I'm a sucker for sushi, what can I say? I won't say it's the penultimately perfect food, though it's bite-size portions with their perfectly balanced balls of tender seasoned rice and meticulously sliced servings of succulent fish are definitely getting pretty close to what might entail perfection. Each bite of rich, creamy sea urchin gunkan (or battleship) style sushi floods your palette with that briny essence of the sea and deep umami flavor that makes sea urchin such a decisively loved or hated food for many, much like raw oysters who's texture and flavor I find absolutely enjoyable, despite their resemblance to some kind of awful lung-lump you might hock up during a particularly bad chest infection. Maybe I'm the weird one here, but Antho loves many of the same oddities I do, so perhaps they're not so odd after all.

If the gonads of sea urchin and roe of salmon are too freaky-deaky for you baby, you can always opt for the warm, flaky, oily goodness of grilled eel smothered in a sweet and sticky sauce that compliments its flavor. Not only is the eel cooked, for those who struggle to stick cold slices of raw fish into their maw, but it's also served warm fresh from the grill so it's extra-enjoyable! There's also a ton of different side dishes available, along with "hidden" extras like the fried sweet shrimp heads, which a chef may politely inquire about your interest in prior to dishing it up. I recommend the crispy little craniums, but I've also mowed them down in raw, living form while living in Korea, so it's safe to say I love all things shrimpy. What I'm trying to say here, though, is that Sushi Twister has long been a staple restaurant of mine for sushi in Vegas for a very good reason: their food is good, very good! And consistently, at that! That's a wonderful thing, because there aren't that many restaurants on this side of the Strip offering sushi, let alone quality sushi, so Sushi Twister is a unicorn of sorts. They were the first decent sushi restaurant I ever encountered this side of Eastern, and the chefs have always been extremely pleasant, or at least polite when I interacted with them. This place is a gem, and while I no longer reside within a reasonable distance to visit them, I hope they are able to prosper and dish up these delicious dishes for years to come!

Korea: Christmas at Yonie's

While it's a bit early for Christmas yet, as we haven't even had Halloween yet, the nostalgia of winter holidays seems fitting enough to roll out this post celebrating the last (and only!) Christmas I spent in Seoul, living with Yonie. It had been quite a ride! I lived in Korea for six months, the entirety of which I spent living in her apartment, which I shared with a rotating roster of various other guests (who booked on AirBnB) along with other artists who would sometimes stop through to visit. The caricature community is a small one, after all, so most of us end up knowing eachother, especially when we tend to spend extended stays in the same countries. Sometimes this rotating company meant letting a small, quiet Japanese girl in some evening after 11pm, when the creepypasta I'd been reading had thoroughly tainted the tone with spoopies and I was disproportionately spooked by the doorbell, others it meant an impromptu evening of shopping and Doctor Strange with Yonie and Sam. Yonie always takes pride in her hostess skills and as such, she arranged quite a lot of activities for everyone throughout my time there- including this Christmas eve celebration, replete with caricature-themed (or named) wine, red velvet cake, candles and company. It was a lovely evening, and while I had a nice time with everyone, I was more wrapped up with my preparations for leaving Korea in the next 24 hours or so. This was the final stretch of my time living in Seoul, and it was a nice gathering to top it off. While at times I may not have always agreed with Yonie, like when it comes to leaving an oscillating fan on overnight (there's a Korean superstition that leaving a fan on overnight can lead to death) or the scent of cooked fish, I'm extremely grateful for the opportunity she allowed me to have and the incredible adventure I was able to embark upon thanks to her kindness, openness, and hospitality. While nothing is ever perfect, it was pretty fun overall and was absolutely a learning experience. 

Korea: Blind Alley Raccoon Cafe

Is there any animal that you feel a particular kinship with? Like, do you see an eagle soaring high above it all majestically silhouetted against the bright blue sky and feel like there's a special significance, a certain similarity shared between your personal essence and the animal? I used to think that I had that sort of quasi-spiritual-groove with dolphins, who seem to appear near me when in bodies of water they frequent, but these days I find I chalk that up more to the mind seeking to connect the dots and form a meaningful pattern to make it special rather than actually being something special. Dolphins, in all their majestic flippering and gratitude for all the fish, are also a bit rapey and scary, too. Did you know that Flipper and his friends will isolate a female from the pod and then take turns on her, gang-raping her for weeks on end and using aggressive posturing and behaviors to intimidate her into acquiescence? Like, DAMN, dolphin-dudes, chill! Any moderately attractive woman of post-pubescent age has probably, at some time or another, had to deal with the unfortunate human equivalent of those gang-rapist-creeps of dolphins, though hopefully in less full-out-forceful and trauma-inducing situations. I know I hate me some over-the-top jabronies, so my love for dolphins is dampened knowing they're those guys at the party. As if that wasn't bad enough, dolphins also have a habit of killing babies, whether it's another bottlenosed nosed dolphin or another species, and they're riddled with STDs! Yuck. Over it. 

But you know what animal is totally cute, has a super-fluffy tail, toe-beans, fancy-facial-attire, and a vaguely triangular-faced-monkey-like appearance? Raccoons, AKA trash-pandas! These little guys are vastly underappreciated! Look how adorable that sleepy little baby is up there on that railing! Don't you just want to rub his little feeties and boop that snoot?! Trash-Pandas, much like myself, are almost always up for a good snack and a nap, which I think are two traits almost any decent human can get behind. So when my friend Carmen informed me that there was actually this magical place tucked away in Seoul where you could grab some warm beverages with caffeine AND cozy up to some raccoons, you know I was on-board! 

Unfortunately, by the time we arrived most of the fluffy little cuties were quite sleepy and settled in for a nap, high above the reach of most visitors. There was one very happy, very friendly little corgie romping around who was more than eager to step in for pets and appreciation, so I found myself spending more time with that little sweetie. As much as I love the raccoons, I also understand how anyone can wind up cranky when woken from their nap prematurely, so better to let them get their Zs. 

Korea: 설렁탕 Seolleongtang, again, because it's delicious AF

South Korea is something of a wonderland when it comes to delicious food, regardless of your preferences! Are you a total carbohydrate fiend who can't get enough of the starchy stuff? You'll be pleased to learn that there's not only the spicy noodles you've probably heard about or seen on places like Youtube (or even here on my own little blog *blush*), delicious things like steamy jjampong loaded with seafood and vegetables in a warming red broth or chilled mixed noodles like bibimguksu, but there's plenty of non-spicy options to get your fill, too! One of my favorite hot noodle dishes combines a rich and milky beef broth with ultra-tender pieces of beef, chunks of aromatic vegetables and silky mushrooms with thin wheat noodles to slurp it all up with. This delicious, warming, soothing cauldron of goodness is known as 설렁탕 Seolleongtang, which can be found throughout much of Seoul as well as in any community stateside with a large enough Korean population. If you're out somewhere where you're unable to find this delight served in a restaurant, you can always opt to make it yourself! It's a labor of love more than anything else, as the ingredients used aren't especially scarce or rare for the most part, they just require a long cooking time to extract all their goodness into that unctuous, ridiculously-good broth. A point of note is that in many recipes for seolleongtang salt is added at the very end, as in by you at the table, so don't be surprised if you eagerly dip your spoon in and ladle up a big unseasoned slurp of soup! It's okay, my dears, don't fear. Happens to the best of us sometimes when we get over-eager about our tasty treats, right? Once you regain your composure and whereabouts, you should find a small bowl with a salt and pepper mixture to add seasoning to your preference. This is pretty ingenious, really, as it prevents the dish from being overly salty when reduced further and allows salt sensitive patrons to limit their sodium intake, or for those without any sensitivity what-so-ever there's the freedom to go as hog-wild with your salt as your heart desires. You do you, booboo. 

Japan: Salarymen and Sakura

Time is a peculiar thing, isn't it? We often look at it as this linear thing, one event sequentially leading to the next, from point A all the way through to point Z, or point Zed, depending on your preferred parlance. Then there are those, whether they be authors of fictitious works like Kurt Vonnegut and his Billy Pilgrim (who became unstuck in time), or scientists who ponder quantum entanglement and what these things mean in the larger scheme. While conventionally time is viewed primarily in this linear fashion, I'm much more fond of Vonnegut's approach myself. In Slaughter-House five the main character, poor bumbling Billy Pilgrim, was abducted by the strange species known as Trafalmadorians, who are not limited to the third-dimensional perspective on time and it's passing. This abduction, coincidentally, leads to Billy becoming decoupled from our hindered human view of the timeline, offering profound insight and also a fair bit of awkwardness, as he has no foresight of when he's going to wake up in the course of his life prior to it happening. This non-sequitur style of timing, however, gives Billy an incredible perspective on time and life, perhaps an unintended gift from his abductors. To quote from Vonnegut:

"The most important thing I learned on Tralfamadore was that when a person dies he only appears to die. He is still very much alive in the past, so it is very silly for people to cry at his funeral. All moments, past, present, and future, always have existed, always will exist."

What, if anything, does all this have to do with cherry blossoms and businessmen, you may be wondering. As of the time of this writing, my time in Japan has already slipped into the past by several years, and every time I'm reminded of this fact, that I lived in Japan 4 years ago now, it seems so surreal. It feels like only yesterday I stepped foot off the plane in Narita, unsure of what came next. The lessons and experiences I gained while living in Japan, while separate in the timeline, are still with me. An appreciation for the changes of the seasons symbolized perhaps most abundantly in the short-lived flowers of the cherry blossoms lives on in me to this day, every day. I thrill at the changing shades of autumnal leaves, do a little happy dance when I find the first matsutake mushroom making an appearance or the first blooms of spring breaking through the monotony of a winter's day. In this way, I like to think I'm a little bit like Billy Pilgrim, the confines of a three-dimensional experience of time dissolving around the edges slightly, reconnecting me to a previous time in my existence. In a very real way, the blog serves that function, too, by allowing me to create a sort of time capsule of photographic and literary evidence of existence. It's not much, but so it goes. 

Vegas: Cloudy Strip Sunset

Living in the desert, one becomes accustomed to seeing vast, open swatches of sky peeling out in all directions because most of the things that grow out there are stubby and low to the ground, including the residential houses, typically sprawling single story things, though more multi-story buildings are popping up more and more as the population grows. Generally speaking, though, once you move away from the teeming heart of the city, things tend to get low and long, creating an unobstructed stretch to the horizon. Even on the Las Vegas Strip proper the city has relatively few skyscrapers, and there's still ample room between the towering monolithic structures to keep that view of the sky wide open. There's a lot of open spaces, a lot of long, empty drives through deserted two-lane roads to escape that insane oasis and the horizon can seem an endless, unreachable stretch. It was only after living in Japan for two years and becoming used to the labyrinthine crisscrossing of electrical wires, the shadows of multi-level apartment buildings and business crowding in from all sides, and the comforting blanket of heavy urbanity that I started to realize how an agoraphobe might feel when trying to step beyond the confines of their nest. The first time I drove upon returning to the United States, a stretch from one small satellite city beyond the borders of Las Vegas metropolitan area to the big city proper, the sheer expansiveness of it all hit me. 

 There remains many open, empty spaces still in this country, patches where humanity has barely impinged, which is both gratitude and horror-inspiring.  When you seek to escape from the oppressive needs and rituals of the city, with their taxes and menial jobs and road rage, these empty, untouched spaces symbolize that freedom you're craving, but if you need help or assistance they can be painfully desolate and empty. Strange, isn't it? The sheer power of perception. The city of Las Vegas is kind of like that, too. It's something different for everyone who visits, and just like finding shapes in the clouds, it's entirely up to your own interpretation what you make of it. The expansiveness of it does allow for some nice views of the sunset, I suppose. All that emptiness has to be good for something, after all.