I did this last night at about 10:00 Tokyo time. I don't feel much different this morning. I woke up at 1:00 in the morning (my body told me that it was 11:00 a.m.), took a Nyquil (self-medication!), went back to sleep, and woke up with the sun at 5:00 a.m. (3:00 p.pm., says this body 'o mine). Right now in it's 5:50 in the morning. I envy my roomate, who can sleep through the night, and is still peacefully snoozing.
On the left is the view of Tokyo from the hotel window this morning. The Keio Plaza Hotel is located in the business district of Tokyo (Shinjuku), and is the swankiest place in which I've ever stayed. Lush towels, yukatas (summer kimonos, to be used as houserobes in this case), flat screen TV, a retro kind of bedstand/console that allows us to control all the room's functions from the bed, a toilet that makes a flushing noise as soon as you sit down (to help with stage fright, if you know what I mean) and is also supposed to function as a bidet, free toothbrushes and such…I could go on, but just take my word for it; it's a nice hotel.
I don't feel out of my element yet, but that's simply because my roomate can read a lot of the characters used (there are three different kinds, remember?). Thankfully "ramen" is a word they pulled from Chinese, so it's always written in a certain type of character. If I memorize it, I'll never go hungry. By the way, "gummy," as in gummy worm, is also written in the character set reserved for foreign words and emphasis, and it's just two characters. So until I get some more characters under my belt, I'll be eating ramen noodles and gummy things only.
Last note: Yesterday on the stupid plane I watched Once Upon A Time In The West, which I had rented from iTunes. Except for one John Wayne film and Oklahoma! it's the first western I've watched. So, I suppose it's the third western movie I've seen all the way through. I liked it. I'm not going to put it on my list of favorites, but I totally understand why it's considered a classic. And who can forget the two main melodies of the film? A sorrowful harmonica and a wordless soaring soprano, the two quintessential elements required for a good western soundtrack. I would know—I've seen three westerns.
Jetlag is the poops.