The Japan trip was over a month ago now, and it still weighs on my mind.
I got a lot of plastic model kits of posable figures! Some of them are of catgirl maids, another is Miku Hatsune, others that I didn't recognize but I liked how they look, and a couple that are just in their underwear. There were a few others I thought about getting, then I saw they were also being sold in the US, so I didn't get them.
In my mind, I was still calculating prices as 100 yen = 1 dollar, because it was like that for a long time until recently. So sometimes I'd have to pay via credit card, or use an ATM to withdraw cash, thinking I was pulling $300 out, then I'd check my statement and it was only about $200. Yay?
Something that enables the persistent use of cash in Japan is the cash registers themselves. In many of the larger stores, the cashier never has to count the money itself. They just feed the bills and coins into a collector, then the register does all the counting for them, and then dispenses the correct change, often directly to the customer. Then the register also serves as a safe until it needs emptied.
The absolute first place I went to after getting properly checked in was Melonbooks for some doujinshi. Priorities! I was also hoping they would have had some M3 catalogs but no, sales on those stop about a week before the event.
I had to stay out of Keisokuki Land this time. Too dangerous! I knew that if I went in there, I'd find myself getting a pile of budget-destroying electronics equipment. Maybe next time.
A visit to a maid cafe was a must, of course. The maids were attentive and friendly, and were entertained by some of the model train pictures I had on my phone. Whether their interest was feigned or real is not important. The idea is to sell the illusion of having cute maids serve me, if only for an hour. That's what's important. It's foolish at best and dangerous at worst for me to cling to that illusion after I leave. The American version of that mindset is the old adage "the strippers don't really love you". That said, one of the rules of a maid cafe is the same as that of a strip club: No touching, ever. But I digress.
The best way to describe M3 was like the artist's alley at Otakon, in a bigger room with smaller aisles. It was a bit crowded at times but nothing out of the ordinary for me. The real high point of it all was being able to buy music directly from the people who made it, being able to put faces to the voices. (Well, most of them.) While I stuck to a checklist of who to buy what from, I did find new music from singers I never heard of. I have a lot to say about M3, and that's probably going to be an article on my main site.
What made M3 really different from an American event was that M3 had a strict no-cosplay policy for attendees. A vendor could do cosplay if it was related to what they were selling, and that was it. For attendees, no cosplay at all. I watched someone get stopped by staff for wearing a bat-wing headband. That's much different from US conventions, where someone can get into cosplay at home, drive to the con, stop for lunch, get on a train, walk a few blocks to the convention, spend all day at the con, then go back home, all in cosplay.
I almost bought one of the Touhou games. Almost. For some reason I didn't. I kinda regret that. "Just download it." I know, I could. I just feel silly for having held it in my hand and putting it back. It wasn't really expensive either.
I should probably change up the hotels mid-stay for future trips, especially if I'm going to be there for as long as I was. Ten days was a long time to be in one hotel. By around the seventh or eighth night, the bed mattress started to feel like it was made of granite. Ten days seems to be my upper limit in general. When I start thinking of all the things back home I want to do or need to do, that's when I know it's time to go. A few days after I got home, I went to QSL and had a victory-lap dinner of ribs and wings. And it was good.
I got a lot of plastic model kits of posable figures! Some of them are of catgirl maids, another is Miku Hatsune, others that I didn't recognize but I liked how they look, and a couple that are just in their underwear. There were a few others I thought about getting, then I saw they were also being sold in the US, so I didn't get them.
In my mind, I was still calculating prices as 100 yen = 1 dollar, because it was like that for a long time until recently. So sometimes I'd have to pay via credit card, or use an ATM to withdraw cash, thinking I was pulling $300 out, then I'd check my statement and it was only about $200. Yay?
Something that enables the persistent use of cash in Japan is the cash registers themselves. In many of the larger stores, the cashier never has to count the money itself. They just feed the bills and coins into a collector, then the register does all the counting for them, and then dispenses the correct change, often directly to the customer. Then the register also serves as a safe until it needs emptied.
The absolute first place I went to after getting properly checked in was Melonbooks for some doujinshi. Priorities! I was also hoping they would have had some M3 catalogs but no, sales on those stop about a week before the event.
I had to stay out of Keisokuki Land this time. Too dangerous! I knew that if I went in there, I'd find myself getting a pile of budget-destroying electronics equipment. Maybe next time.
A visit to a maid cafe was a must, of course. The maids were attentive and friendly, and were entertained by some of the model train pictures I had on my phone. Whether their interest was feigned or real is not important. The idea is to sell the illusion of having cute maids serve me, if only for an hour. That's what's important. It's foolish at best and dangerous at worst for me to cling to that illusion after I leave. The American version of that mindset is the old adage "the strippers don't really love you". That said, one of the rules of a maid cafe is the same as that of a strip club: No touching, ever. But I digress.
The best way to describe M3 was like the artist's alley at Otakon, in a bigger room with smaller aisles. It was a bit crowded at times but nothing out of the ordinary for me. The real high point of it all was being able to buy music directly from the people who made it, being able to put faces to the voices. (Well, most of them.) While I stuck to a checklist of who to buy what from, I did find new music from singers I never heard of. I have a lot to say about M3, and that's probably going to be an article on my main site.
What made M3 really different from an American event was that M3 had a strict no-cosplay policy for attendees. A vendor could do cosplay if it was related to what they were selling, and that was it. For attendees, no cosplay at all. I watched someone get stopped by staff for wearing a bat-wing headband. That's much different from US conventions, where someone can get into cosplay at home, drive to the con, stop for lunch, get on a train, walk a few blocks to the convention, spend all day at the con, then go back home, all in cosplay.
I almost bought one of the Touhou games. Almost. For some reason I didn't. I kinda regret that. "Just download it." I know, I could. I just feel silly for having held it in my hand and putting it back. It wasn't really expensive either.
I should probably change up the hotels mid-stay for future trips, especially if I'm going to be there for as long as I was. Ten days was a long time to be in one hotel. By around the seventh or eighth night, the bed mattress started to feel like it was made of granite. Ten days seems to be my upper limit in general. When I start thinking of all the things back home I want to do or need to do, that's when I know it's time to go. A few days after I got home, I went to QSL and had a victory-lap dinner of ribs and wings. And it was good.