August 25, 2010

Shot in the face Last Tuesday found me in Tokyo. How exciting… Not, not really. I don’t particularly enjoy Tokyo, I’m far too old for this type of place. What I want right now is the convenience of living in a city, but without the claustrophobia, and that I can find in thousands of other places outside of Tokyo. One thing, however, that I can’t find outside of Tokyo is affordable shots to the face. Botox shots, that is. What in Utsunomiya costs upwards of 30 000 yen, in Tokyo, at a very nice clinic right next to the Omotesando metro station, can be had for 7 500 (for the part between the eyes). And so every so often, you will see me braving the crowds and getting molested on the train to the capital. Ah, the things we, shallow and vain women, do for beauty! Not that I was beautiful to begin with, that's debatable. Though when it comes to shallow and vain, I definitely haz that. Bukkits of it. And so, on Tuesday, off to Tokyo I went. The clinic is nice and moderately fancy. Nothing exceptional. They offer a whole plethora of beauty treatments, but since my middle names are “budget” and “trouble”, I just stick with botox. I’ve had botox injections in a handful of countries so far, and I definitely must say that Japan is the least fussy of them. You make an appointment, go in, fill out a paper and sign a consent form. Then you sit in a chair with a fluffy blankie over your knees and wait. After a few minutes, the shooter comes in, tells you to scrunch up your forehead, marks the appropriate spots and after a swab of disinfectant, the shooting begins. Ouch! Ouch, ouch, ouch! The shooter (they are not nurses, or even doctors, just some random beauticians licensed to handle toxic substances – like botox) last Tuesday was very skilled and didn’t make me punch him in the face. Yes it was a he. And he did a very good job. There wasn’t even a tiniest bruise on my forehead. (The man might have been a medical professional, but since he didn't introduce himself, we don’t know. The lady who injected me a few months ago was a beautician.) When are you gonna finish, dammit! And now, two days later, my ability to look pissed off, fierce and constipated is gone. GONE. It feels so wonderful! You’ll get the report about all the other, equally unexciting, things we did in Tokyo soon. Maybe. If I feel like it. Or maybe not. Because there are hundreds of bloggers who gush about Tokyo, complete with a steady stream of more or less lame photos, already. We shall see… Now, if you excuse me, I have to admire my paralyzed forehead in the mirror one more time.

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