After living in Japan for 10 months, I understand that each season drastically affects my mood. I understand that in summer I will never wear clothes while in my house (and no, you’re not invited), in fall I will rejoice that summer is over, in winter I will wish I was never born and in spring I will be happy that I was.
However, prior to this week, I did not fully grasp the concept that there is another season in Japan. For my entire life I had been under the false impression that there were only four seasons. These four seasons simply came and went without question. But, in Japan, apparently there is a sixth sense of a season. Much like seeing dead people or reading minds, this fifth season will catch you by surprise. In between spring and summer, Japan experiences the rainy season.
If you don’t believe me, have a look at my personal iMeteorologist:
After spring sprang and bounced away, my home state’s capital is now firing up the grills and icing the beer in preparation for summer. On the other hand, Fukuyama is stocking up on umbrellas and I am wishing I had packed my Hunter boots. Fortunately, my amazing mother recently sent me some volume control mousse because this morning my hair was an Afro of white-people curls. If I had been wearing a dress, a matching corsage and rhinestones in my hair, I would have been voted prom queen today at school.
Although I prefer blue skies and yellow sunshine to rain, thus far, the wet weather hasn’t gotten me down too much. On Friday night, a friend and I opted for a five-minute taxi rather than a 15-minute walk in a downpour and on Monday afternoon, I was definitely the crazy girl running in a heavy drizzle. So, even though the sky is gray, I’m still puttering about and doing my thing… with massive curls and wet feet.