When Hats asked me to write this release post, I panicked a little. English is not my first language and I have been feeling down lately, which doesn’t help with inspiration. I have gotten better over the years but a part of me still believes that I don’t deserve to be successful and happy. Dealing with these feelings has been harder than usual these last few months, which is why I have been inactive for some time. It is part of the reason why you didn’t get a release earlier. Everything is not bleak though. Summer has finally arrived, after an unusually long winter. These are the months that I love the most. At this time of year, the flowers of the linden tree next to my house get golden when the sun sets. It never fails to lift my mood. Today, fittingly, I bring you some of my favorite projects. I hope you will enjoy these chapters as much as I did.
Last weekend, my younger brother got married. He invited friends and family over to celebrate. The wedding was decided only a month ago so we had to organize it in a rush. My mother, who can’t handle stress, almost went mad with worry but our efforts paid off. It was beautiful. However, I have to admit that I could do without all the hints that I should be the next to be getting married. Our family is catholic so we were raised with the idea that everyone should aspire to marriage and children, preferably in that order and before the age of thirty. That’s why, ever since I passed the age of twenty-five, the allusions have become frequent. My father usually goes for relative subtlety but my mother, more straightforward, prefers implying very directly that the life I lead is worthless because I haven’t made the same choices as her. My sister-in-law has inadvertently made things worse. I love her. She’s a cheerful and straightforward person and I miss her when she’s not there. However, she keeps teasing me by repeating “You’re next!” with a laugh and I don’t think she realizes it doesn’t amuse me at all.
Speaking of the wedding, one of the highlights of the night was
I’m a sucker for Breakfast at Tiffany’s. I’ve watched it dozens of times, and it’s whirring away in my DVD player right this very moment. The scene where Holly recovers “Cat”, tucks him under her trench coat, and then stumbles into Paul’s embrace always manages to choke me up. Yes, that’s what I’ve been doing all this time. Watching Breakfast at Tiffany’s on an endless loop cycle for about a week now, tissue box within reach, sputtering, “Oh my god, Holly, Cat is right there!”
Depression freaking sucks.
I really should get out more…
3 AM Dangerous Zone v2, ch.10:SPOILERS!!!!!!! Momoko dumped Tagaya?! She actually dumped the cuddly-as-a-bear, oyakodon-loving, and very, very married Tagaya? OK, so the girl has every reason to go through with the breakup; I would, too. Poor thing. Not only did her boyfriend cheat on her, but her next beau happens to be a man who can’t seem to remember where he placed his wedding band! Still, I love Tagaya, so I can’t deny the part of me that wishes for our hero and heroine to embrace wildly on the rooftop, screaming, “F- it, let’s make teddy-bear-like-oyakodon-loving babies together!”
Speaking of breakups, Momoko laying around in bed drowning in sorrow reminded me of how painful these things can be. Ah, those were the days. The last time I felt that way was in high school, once upon a time. I wonder what happened to all that fresh innocence so incidental to youth? Now when it happens, I can easily get over the guy with a sake bomb and some cheap AYCE korean bbq.
Teketeke Rendezvous v1, ch.7: Lily takes Tayoko on a (truncated) sightseeing tour of the island, while the rest of the inhabitants of Mekake gather together for a… wild drunken party? Yeah, this chapter definitely got hit with the signature Teketeke Whacked Out Syndrome inherent to all prior Teketeke chapters. Well, at least one thing is certain: Kota never fails to transform into a sexy beast when totally wasted.
Speaking of HEELS, we’re not exactly on hiatus, but just… quietly churning along? Some of us have exams, others have had to deal with family loss, one (read: me) is preparing for a trip to San Francisco, and this month was the holidays after all. Of course, the “S” in me is tempted to chain all the staff to their desks and not allow them to see the light of day with only Scrabble to pass the time, but Stiletto (ever the saint) keeps nudging my conscience with her obnoxious “RL > SCANLATION” billboard! ヽ(ｏ`皿′ｏ)ﾉ
We do have a big stack of chapters in the QC pile, so after they get sliced and diced, we will release them in batches, starting from today and throughout January. This will include chapters from these projects: 3 AM Dangerous Zone, And, Anata no Koto wa Sorehodo, Ane no Kekkon, Balancing Toy, Futago, Heartbroken Chocolatier, Kiyoku Yawaku, Nikotama, Nina My Love, Nobody Cry, Omi-Sensei no Binetsu, Otoko no Issho, Teketeke Rendezvous, Tenshi no Tamago, Torch Song Ecology, Toribako House, and Tsukikage Baby.
But for now, these beauties will have to suffice. THANK YOU, STAFFERS! MUAH!
Haha, come to think of it, this doesn’t sound like an “end of the year” blog post at all… does it? So I’ll wrap up by saying, I hope everyone will enjoy the new year, and we’ll be back in full swing mid-January in 2014! ＼(￣O￣)
P.S. Yes, Rexy, Bread & Tulips is on my TO WATCH list. Right now, it’s even ahead of The Secret Life of Walter Mitty. There are a few copies that are being sold with English subtitles on Amazon Marketplace, where I’m keen on buying from. But I squandered 70 bucks preordering the first press edition of AAA’s Eighth Wonder concert DVD last week, so I will have to wait until after my S.F. trip to buy anything else. Boo~ ((´д｀))
Monday afternoon, a couple of days after the New Department Head fired our cleaning people, we smell dead rats in the girls’ bathroom. I heard that the Accounts Receivables girl was the first to sniff it out: Apparently she was blow-drying her hair and panicked, thinking she had accidentally set her hair on fire.
By evil, malicious whimsy, the New Department Head designates me and the Fridge Tyrant the bathroom-airer-outers because we “look[ed] bored and in need of something to do.” So there I am on a sluggishly lukewarm Monday afternoon, propping the door to the girls’ bathroom open with my back and left heel. I’m yelling at the Fridge Tyrant to “Get me something to hold it open!” (He picks up a paperweight.) “No, something heavy!” (He gestures at my purse.) “Haha, funny.” (A sheepish shrug as he disappears into the warehouse and re-enters with a heavy-duty Oxford English Dictionary.) “Perfect.”
But that’s actually the dictionary pour moi. I brought it with me when I first started working here nine years ago, and was still wet behind the ears. My beloved dictionary, one that had served me as a young adult who’d curiously run the rough edge of her thumb over words like “voracious”,”combustible”, “chemise”. It had survived my two younger brothers, the flooding of the shed/apartment I rented during heavy torrential rain, a four-story test-drop, and a car accident. Little did it know that a couple of weeks into our relationship, I would eventually cheat on it with a thesaurus, and it would now find its face shoved into the bottom of the bathroom door to prop it open.
The Fridge Tyrant armed with a can of Lysol and I, armed with an empty stomach, zone in on the suspected stall. He places his hand on the top of the door, and says, “We’re going in on a count of one, two-”
But I am already pushing my way in.
The moment we shimmy our noses near the toilet bowl, we are hit smack-dab in the face with the most pungent of pungent odors imaginable. Think of the moist underside of an elephant’s trunk, except there’s like a trillion of them packaged into a permeating ring of death-dealing smells.
“I think I’m about to vomit,” I squeak.
“Was this the same bowl that swallowed your phone?” he squeaks.
His smile fades when I shoot him a look that reads, “I have a Swiss Army knife, I know where you park, and I’m not afraid to use it on your Goodyear tires.”
So there we are, Fridge Tyrant and Fridge Tyrant Victim, brought together for a single purpose: To huddle in a bathroom stall with our shoulders touching, peering over the toilet bowl with our noses pressed into the crotch of our elbows, sniffing out disaster. Both are slightly-attractive single adults searching for love. I have to admit, when he first came on the job, his dark looks conjured up images of a lumbering, depraved, and wild-eyed wolf. I have to admit that when our gaze met, something strangely chemical, strangely electric jolted through me… Until the moment he tossed my stuff out of the fridge. One would expect for something romantic to happen here, but it doesn’t. Everything just stinks like hell.
Mimi: Hey, I’m going to leave this to you, OK?
Pats him on the shoulder. Fridge Tyrant: Sure, OK.
———— And ch.9:Download | Read online
Shiro lacks experience, so I doubt he’ll get his feelings through to Kaoru. Even if he confesses, it’s too late now. She only has eyes for Yagai. If anything had materialized between Shiro and Kaoru at this point, they’d just be two bumbling fools in love anyway. (At least that’s what I try to convince myself to mask the slight disappointment that Kaoru is blind to the goodness that encompasses Shiro.) 超ブルーなミミ
Mani Mani ch.5 (Joint w/ Hotcakes): *Please DO NOT announce this release on MANGAUPDATES. Nightswan will be the one doing it.* Download | Read online
It’s been a while, and you’ve probably forgotten all about them, but Kun-chan, her daughter, Fuuko, and Kitamori-kun make a return in this latest installment.
Sekine’s Love ch.17:Download | Read online
You will not find Sara in her Plain Jane overalls, weird hats, or baseball tees here. Should we take this as a good sign? o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o
Teketeke Rendezvous ch.5:Download | Read online
I thought Kota would be the sane one out of the group, but I thought wrong. I’m not complaining though, kekeke. P.S. Yoetsu was pretty 2D hot in his greaser days.
Just two weeks after my break-up, my younger brother’s best friend shamelessly asked me out to see Skyfall. (I say “shamelessly” but I know by the parched throat and lurching heartbeat that I must have been anticipating this all along. Probably as far back as our camping trip in August when he sneaked across the entire campsite in super-duper stealth mode to launch a water grenade at my feet.)
My younger brother’s best friend is a half-white/half-Mexican hybrid with dark hair, a goofy smile and viciously mesmerizing green eyes. All the younger girls gaze dreamily at him, as if he is the corporeal incarnation of Adonis in the flesh. They trip over themselves just to suck in the same filthy air as him. Don’t they know? This guy wears the lamest t-shirts, worships Batman, and pees in the bushes at the crickets.
When one of these nymph-like creatures sauntered up to him one night to tell him how beautiful she thought his eyes were, he struggled to reply to that. The girl had reduced him to a gushing, blubbering doofus.
Afterward, when he sidled over to talk to me, I pretended to shield my eyes.
“Don’t look at me!” I shouted.
Nervous laughter. “What?”
“Don’t look at me with those beautiful, green eyes!”
This caused a look of chagrin and an eye roll from him. I doubled over with laughter, crying, “Joke! Joke!”
“Lame,” he’d said, storming away.
After each such episode, where I played tormentor to his tormentee, I would coax him with a bowl of popcorn or a slice of pizza or half a Snickers bar as a token offering of repentance, which he would snatch up with a scowl that drove me dizzy with glee.
He was barely twenty-three at the time, and I had already turned twenty-seven three months before. I was talking to my brother when he approached us, elbowing my brother in the ribs. My brother punched him in the chest. They wrestled a bit, while I sighed in dismay.
“I know you can’t keep your hands off each other,” I said, “but don’t leave a cute girl hanging.”
After they retired from their bromancing ritual, he turned to me with a grin and said, “Taken 2?”
I blinked in surprise and glanced quickly at my younger brother, who was busy admiring the lint on his left shoulder.
“What?” I said.
“Double Oh?” he said.
His face fell and he walked away then, attaching himself to the elbow of the resident slutty chick in hooker heels. He did not talk to me for the rest of the night. Later that night, after much pacing, hair-tugging and hyper-ventilating in front of the bedroom mirror in my underwear, I mustered up the courage to text him.
Mimi: Were u serious?
Five minutes later, he texted back.
Younger Brother’s Best Friend: Yeah.
We back and forth’ed until midnight, but none of it was going through my head. The only words that would come to mind were: Oh, crap, oh, crap, oh crap.
Just the other day he sent me a link to this video:
“What are you trying to tell me?” I cried.
“Ay oh Ay oh Ay-Ay-Ay-Ay-OH,” he said.
I shouted, “I don’t understand a word of your Thai!”
He shouted back,”That part’s pretty universal!”
A million hugs goes to any guy who’s sweet enough to fan the flames of my fangirly desires, even if I know that deep-down inside he thinks it’s pretty lame.
Anyway, lots of goodies this time. Thanks so much to our new staff – Mangiwi, Kiwango, Gazechic, samisweet, stellar, Aria, and hoi – for helping us get these out! Also much love to the older staff members – Lilanar, Stiletto, vanille, arcticbeetle, otaku_mel, Kelpie, Kumomi, and Miwa – as well. Don’t tell me you thought I forgot you? 🙁
& (and) Volume 1, CH.5.5: I always suspected Shiro was doing the creeper on Kaoru, but I never knew this was the reason why! Pretty adorable. (For a creeper.)
Ane no Kekkon Volume 1, CH.2: This chapter has taught me that you can definitely outrun a 40-year-old man in heels, but be prepared for something far, far worse.
Balancing Toy Volume 1, CH.5: I’m really glad that Haru is spending more time with Bonta and Towa and getting some freedom from Papa Seiji. Just the other day, they were sleeping in the same room, on the same futon, counting sheep. At fifteen?! I think I stopped conversing with my dad at that age. (Okay, now maybe I’m the dysfunctional one.)
Futago Volume 4, CH.18: Yukari has totally won my respect this time around. If it was me, I’d be bawling my eyes out then and there. Or at least aim a swift kick at the guy’s nuts, if only for consolation.
Otoko no Issho Volume 1, Ch.3: Tsugumi really needs to get herself a metal door, or at least an underwear and bra set made of interlocking electric wires.
Teketeke Rendezvous Volume 1, Ch.4: Everything epic about George Asakura is showcased in this chapter. She had my sides ripping from laughter. Also, (I know I’ll sound like a perverted old lady but) props has to be given for gifting me with the sexiest 2D Megane Danshi in a heck long while. Hu hu hu.