I’ve started using a little cage on a short metal handle to brew the tea. It sits in the mug, cage on the bottom with the end of the handle protruding above the water. The cage is constructed of a tightly linked metal lattice. You shut the leaves in the cage; they can’t fit through the tiny gaps in the frame, but the water can get through. I can just wait for the tea to brew before grabbing the top of the handle and pulling the caged leaves out.

Walking into my room with the mug, the laptop is already on the floor. So I flip the screen up, press the “on” button and inspect a nearby book for the time it takes to get ready. As it turns out, my laptop is precisely as old and shitty as it was yesterday, and that waiting time is rather lengthlier than first expected. So I go back to the kitchen and get a tangerine. Returning, I sit on the floor, look down at the screen. The tangerine (or is it a clementine?!) is peeled, I lift the cage-on-a-stick out of the mug, tap it to knock off some lurking liquids, and hang it up. I inhale the aroma, pick up a segment, and start to watch a show.

As it happens it’s a show I picked up on the basis that it was ’slice of life’. Because just as the shonen thrill has become part of my life I now need something slow as an option. Slow doesn’t mean slice of life, but slice of life tends to mean slow and girly, twee even. Somedays Dreamers (Mahō Tsukai ni Taisetsu na Koto: Natsu no Sora) lacks balls.

The ’slice of life’ isn’t always to the fore, it’s a style whose dominance within a series can be variable. Somedays Dreamers episode 3 told a dramatic story set up via unrealistic methods. Sora destroys her client’s property and promptly changes the old bat’s mind by stating the bleeding obvious. What kind of depressive can be turned around by such blunt naivete? Be this the way of magic? Might they just send Sora round the suicide wards telling people to buck up and enjoy living? “Boy, when I hear it from a little girl this whole goodness of life thing suddenly makes a whole lot of sense. Care to swap your adorably bunny for this sharp sharp razor I seem to have lying around inside of my mattress?”. Regardless, the episode isn’t really a “slice-of-life”, it is a carefully set up narration, an expression of the benevolent and girly tweeness that’s the heart the show.

This is not a criticism – it just makes me wonder what I wanted from slice of life. I’m reminded of the way Haibane Renmei uses an initially slice of life approach to introduce a wider story. The artificial confessional of episode 3 doesn’t resonate so perfectly, and doesn’t really take advantage of the feel of the previous episodes. It’s just a flawed dip into a more overtly fictional approach.

I came for the pace not the message, that’s the truth of it. Because I wanted something to slip into. And it suits how I watch, or how I feel at a particular sort of time ‘o day at which I want to be watching something. Maybe I should be watching a series where I don’t have to wait for subs, because that mood comes of its own accord – not on a weekly basis. Only now I’ve got the routine, it has a value of its own. The show and the room and the food are but part of my wider contentment.

That tea cage is a new thing. So’s sitting on the carpet. I just moved into a new house, and my old desk is no more. There’s a desk here, but I’ve filled it with clutter and found myself on the floor. And though the change isn’t really drastic, and I get along OK really, it does have some knock on affect on how I relate to shows. How I feel in general determines my schedule, so how I feel at my computer screen is kinda relevant. I guess this experience shows me how I (as a viewer) react to additional stimulus. The experience tells me a bit about myself, although not very dramatically.

I’ll do my best to make this work out though, I’ll not ever ever watch Somedays Dreamers unless the mood is right – I’ll save up my weekly dose a day or so – take it steady. That’s how we all live our lives right? With these new shows in hand, I’ll easily get along with any changes in lifestyle accoutrements.

or perrrrrrhaps…

Did I ever mention my recent crude bisection by a strangely familiar looking plasti-corseted ginger amazon from outer space? I have been busy, it may have slipped my mind. I find myself sharing a body with said bombshell. Our joint life presents me with certain problems.

We all have our priorities in life, our hospitalised friends to attend to, our daily rituals to perform. Luckily, in this new body, the hormonal secretions appear to be limited – robbing me of the urge to casually mobilise my earthling johnson (earthwang? homosapienis?) recreationally. Embarrassment is thus not a big issue. The problem is our different preferences concerning routine. This space woman will consent to watch my Soul Eater with me, but wants to sit on a chair, wants to wear headphones to truly appreciate the audio. Jesus, I ask you, aliens, eh? It’s so tricky being lumped in with somebody else. Don’t even get me started on the gay robot butler.

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I watch Somedays Dreamers for the pace, though it is also gratifyingly pretty. I love Birdy for the glorified slickness, I wouldn’t be able do that if it weren’t moving so fast. Each has its place in a good day. Thing is, I’d been watching a few slow-paced (not slice of life) “classics” – and when I came to pick up new shows I realised that I needed to have more guaranteed slowness on my books.

In these two new shows we have two changes: a girl who moves to a well-regulated town job, a boy who gets an action hero foisted upon him. When she meets a depressive Sora gets shoved into a dramatic confessional – the episode shows the perspective of the author via this conflict. Aren’t the personal changes always the important ones? They’re the ones I struggle to just slip into. Right now my changes are material, maybe that’s why I suddenly feel like watching something sedate and elegant? Is that why I’m sticking by the quiet adventures of a little girl? Maybe it’s just because I’ve started to change sex by night.