let the flames begin;

Eyes only for each other

A group of 6 college kids were ahead of us in line and started chatting with me. Full on just having a fun conversation with someone literally going through the beginning of a very awkward middle school period. I was so shocked they wanted to talk to me. I think my mom mentioned it was my birthday. They were very nice about it. When we got on the ride they told us to go ahead of them so we could sit at the front of the car since it held 8 people.

Now the ride (called Journey to Atlantis - I believe it is sadly no longer there) started with a slow ride of beautiful visuals of dolphins and oceans and computerized images of this imaginary Atlantis before going up the hill to the beginning of the coaster, where it paused for about 30 seconds, and then the ride started. The college kids must have known there would be a pause. Maybe they’d ridden it before I’m not sure.

But as we sat there on that peak, 6 people I’ve never known, and will never know again, sang a very very lonely 11 year old happy birthday. Loudly. And with gusto. They were happy and laughing and joyful. And it made me feel less alone in the world.

I am 29 years old this year, and I still remember them. I still remember that kindness. It is so important. It doesn’t go into a vacuum. It exists beside me in my daily life. And I love the idea that I have been that person to someone else too.

See, there was a festival where it was customary to wear a yukata, which is like a summer version of a kimono. So I bought one with cute cats on it and a matching fan.

One problem, though — the obi.

The obi is a long strip of cloth that is supposed to be wrapped around the waist and tied very specifically into a neat bow. However, me, my mom, my sister, and a YouTube video couldn’t figure it out.

Not only was the obi in the front (it’s supposed to be tied in the back), but it was tied so loosely that the lower part of my yukata was fully showing my clothes underneath. It looked more like a robe than an actual garment.

After the festival, with my feet aching and feeling like I disgraced the entirety of Japanese culture, I waited for the bus to take me home.

Suddenly, an old Japanese woman motions for me to come to her, and she proceeds to try and fix my obi. Once she sees it’s beyond fixing, she takes it completely off and starts to fold the front of my yukata correctly, then wraps the obi tightly and neatly around my waist, tying it in the back.

It was like she had done it for decades, which honestly, she probably had.

After me and my family profusely thanked her, she just waved her hand and said in Japanese “It was fun!” and left.

I still remember her, and even though it probably got a lot of weird looks in the middle of a train station, I’m so grateful to her. I almost didn’t want to take it off that night.

Here’s the before and after:

Some harem anime way back in the day had an episode where the characters cooked, and they animated cabbage so terribly like this it left a bad mark on the anime community forever. Apparently this is part of the reason why all food usually looks good in anime, even moreso than the regular show sometimes. With cabbage being especially well drawn.

A complaint, apparently in a paper.

The first show when released internationally was reanimated in this part.

And high quality or low quality cabbage is sometimes referenced.