Orange shoes on Sunday afternoon.

Since I lived in Japan, I changed. A lot. I am now one of those people who like to spend weekends in the coffee shop. I used to think that those people who don’t mind spend 5 bucks on black coffee without sugar, or americano with brown sugar, are douche. But that’s exactly how I enjoy my coffee now (so sue me!).

Ten years ago, Mean Girls was still one of my favorite movies. Now I am thinking what was it with me and rom-com movies, that time? Five years ago, Me Before You would make me fall head over heels, fangirling to the sexy William Traynor. But, I didn’t see the movie until last week (and that was because a friend crazily recommended me that movie and she said how come I hadn’t watched it). Well, it was nice and made me cry. But that’s it. Nice. And made me cry. It’s no Dead Poets Society. 

When people ask me what my favorite book is, I always am hesitant to answer cause it would be a perverted-borderline porn masterpiece of Vladimir Nabokov-さま. My kohai who loves cheesy books as I am, even couldn’t bear to finish and returned it to me after two pages.

My taste changed. My way of life changed.

I thought I changed because of Japan-no it’s not. First, second year I was here I hadn’t. I was still that bright cheerful girl-now I am a more matured (prone to stress), cold, skeptic woman. I noticed that since I turned 27, I had been becoming that person and I am fine with it.

But I still choose bright colors to my feet, as I am 20 years ago, only now they don’t make a funny sound as I walk. And I chose bright-orange pump shoes with a big ribbon for a bright Sunday afternoon. I feel pretty- and I just hope someone won’t shoot me, cause, well, who knows.



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