Always leaving things unfinishe

7 minutes in Heaven...

2012-02-06T17:36:00.002+09:00

I never really got into that game, we played it once because it looked cool on shows like Degrassi Junior High, but my house didn't have a closet so we had to do it in our laundry room. Not quite the same with fluorescent lighting and the smell of washing powder...

But I'm getting off topic! This is in fact 7 minutes in Heaven with... LOCO. What? Haven't heard of the guy? Have you been living under a rock that doesn't include awesome books or amazon.com?? You loser! If you don't know Loco, (but I know you all do) get clicking and to buying his book. Right now!

I support this guy for many reasons, in percentages, it's about 10% that he's one talented writer who has had the skill, balls and artistry to not only write a fantastic book, but make sure it got published, unlike so many other writers who just whinge about their dream never coming true... 5% that he's a fellow ex-pat in Japan and I can relate to what he writes about...5% that although we've never met in person, he seems like a genuinely good bloke...Annnnnd 80% that I have a massive married-woman crush on him. Wait, do my percentages add up...? maths never was my strong point.

So without further cunting about, here are 7 minutes in Heaven with Loco, or you could just skip this post and support the dude by buying his book. Either or really!

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1) So Loco, now you’re a big-shot published author you’re not going to forget us little people are you?

　Nah, I would never do that, Karen, you know me…lol, just kidding, Casey! But I wouldn’t throw around words like big-shot just yet. We can have that conversation about the contempt I hold for the pissants I’ll be stepping over on my meteoric rise to stardom once I’ve actually sold a few…more.

2) Was writing a book like in the movies, you had to send it to 100’s of publishers while living on cup ramen to support yourself and then finally got discovered? Take us through the process.

Nah, my process was nothing like those movies…no romanticized starving artist here. Mine was more like “Hustle and Flow” lol I’m strictly indie over here. I finished the book and I had to make a decision: Send my manuscript off to the big boys (as I’ve done before) where it’ll likely (if I were among the lucky ones that didn’t fall in the shredder bin) sit in the file cabinet of an editor looking for the next JK Rowling or Terry Macmillan, in a folder with a post-it on it that says “great cover but a little controversial and genre-challenged – thus a headache to market,

Or… I could go indie, do the thing my damn self, and see if I can’t do what I would have had to do anyway once the three months the big boys would have pushed it were up, and market it myself! I went with the latter. This book was indie published by my own company, Hunterfly Road Publishing, and we’ll see if I can’t do this through the limited but choice network of netizens, colleagues, and friends I’ve managed to build up over the past 8 years of building relationships and having an online presence. I’m grinding with my mind and heart open and my fingers crossed. I’ve got a great product (he said humbly) so it’s just a matter of getting it read, reviewed, plugged and eventually, god-willing, bought. That’s my process, and I’m sticking to it.

And I have a full time job and private students out the ass, so I can afford real ramen…occasionally.

3) If your book were translated into Japanese how do you think the J-peeps would react?

I guess it depends on their experiences prior to reading it, you know? Also, it would depend on their ability to refrain from having an emotional knee-jerk response to the word “racist,” and read the book. If they read it I think there’s a 75/25 chance they’ll be intrigued if not blown away, entertained and possibly even learn something. That’s certainly how I like to feel when I read a new book. In fact, I think they’ll respond the same way people of any nationality will respond…according to their individual tastes and mindsets. I’ve been here long enough (as have you) to know that though people seem to be on the same page here, in reality there is a lot of individuality trapped beneath the surface. I learned this over the course of my eight years here. I teach private students. I’ve had well over a hundred in that time. And the ones I’ve had during the writing and editing of this book have enthusiastically discussed the issues from this book with me, and the general response has been, “I can’t wait to read it!” That’s been encouraging to say the least. And I’ll be definitely translating it into Japanese at first opportunity so more of the populous can have the opportunity to see life here from a different perspective.

4) Who is your favourite author (no choosing yourself now!) ?

Difficult. Can I give my top five instead? Thanks lol. OK, we have Zora Neale Hurston, James Baldwin, Toni Morrison, Chester Himes and Jim Thompson. Zora wrote my favorite book of all time, “Their eyes were watching God.” James Baldwin is actually my role model. No one kept it realer than him! Toni makes me want to smash my pen and my fingers she’s so amazing. I almost feel ashamed to call myself a writer (but I’m gonna call myself one anyway cuz I know she’d want me to…right Toni?) Chester? Lord have mercy! First time I read “If he hollers let him go” I was ruined. My dreams of being a train engineer flew right out the window. And his Harlem crime series, starring two characters that play out in my head every time I try to write dialogue, namely Coffin Ed and Gravedigger Jones, two corrupt black cops in 1940s Harlem, was just off the chain great. And Jim-bo? Geeeezus!! He’s the only writer that has ever given me nightmares…I mean his writing is downright dangerous! Dirty, grimy, and all too human. Check out “ The Killer Inside Me” and you’ll know what I mean.

5) Do you think you’ll stay in Japan forever?

Nah, but I know for damn sure Japan will stay in me forever!

6) Have you achieved your ultimate goal now, where do you go from here? A movie? A stage show??

Nah…got so many things I wanna do that I’m starting to get scared I might have wasted too much time as it is. This book, Hi! My Name is Loco and I am a Racist, I think of as a calling card, or a résumé. My way of introducing myself to the world and showing people what I’ve got. But, aside from writing stories, I also love movies! I’m a movie fanatic, and I think there are parts of this book that, if fleshed out, would make a great film! Stage shows aren’t really my thing. Growing up in NY, in arguably the arts and cultural center of the universe, I’ve probably seen maybe three or four Broadway plays in my life. Prototypical New Yorker, I am. I’ve never even been to the statue of liberty. Broadway and Statues are for tourist lol

7) When your book tour comes to Osaka, will you sign my boobs??

LOL! You know, before I came to Japan, I wasn’t much of a boob-man. In NY boobs area dime-a-dozen. But, since coming here I’ve developed a renewed appreciation for love jugs! So yeah you can count on this big shot paying your big boobs some attention.

Thanks again for having me Corinne…you are a great person which is why you are so beloved. It takes a certain kind of person to live out loud the way you do. It takes a little courage, a little nuttiness and whole lot of love and generosity, whether you’re aware of it or not, and people recognize and respect it! It’s amazing what happens here in the Japan blogosphere. Every day, especially recently, I get pimped slapped by how much love is here, generated and cultivated by people like you!

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See! I don't even know if that last little message was meant to be just for me, but how nice is this guy?! OK OK so I'm biased due to married (fuck pregnant too) woman crush-itis, but trust me, the book is worth the read, whether you have lived in Japan or not, although I have to agree with the Bad Boy, where the fuck is the Ferris wheel?!

Oh and no bullshit that you are not techno-minded and can't get it on kindle, I am the biggest dickhead in the world when it comes to technomaology and even I figured it out!

Thanks for the 7 minutes Loco, I will be holding you to your boob-signing promise!

Creativity

2012-01-28T17:13:00.001+09:00

Teaching English in Japan can be really frustrating, there are certain patterns to do with study and learning in Japan that are hard to be broken. It often ends up with kids being like little robots beaten into submission by years of: Teacher talking. Student listening/dozing, until the words somehow seep through and are drilled in so they stay there. Forever.

I'm not for this kind of learning, which is why none of the kids I teach may not be able to score 100 in their next drills test, but fuck, if they go to another country they're going to be able to speak a bit of English. The exam study is what the J-teachers are there for, so this system works well, but it's not always just about exams and answers, it's sometimes about changing the way that the kids think. I'm a big fan of creativity, I think that creativity is a big part of language acquisition, so this week when we were studying the totally thrilling topic of 'clothes' I decided we would make puppets. And they started making the same type of puppet, boys did boys puppets with generic clothes, girls did cutesy girl puppets with AKB-ish outfits.

Exhibit A- J-kid's puppets.

They were all happily puppeting away, and as they glanced over at my puppet they either gave me weird glances or just kind of hovered, trying to figure out what kind of creative nonsense I was up to. Again.

Exhibit B- My puppets.

"Yes, that is an alien wearing pink pants! So what!? Yes, the old weird dude is wearing pink swimmers even though he is really hairy! That's the beauty of it! And I know it's not December, but there's no law against making a Santa puppet in January, even if he is holding an umbrella!!! Get it kids!?"

And then FINALLY today, a little boy came through with the goods for me!!!

Exhibit C- Success! In his words, 'Dirty terrorist likes sports'.

Ummm pure brilliance, no!? And the proof of the pudding is totally in the terrorism, because this kid's English is pretty damn good, I never have to say anything in Japanese, because even if he hasn't a clue of what the fuck I just said, he just guesses and hopes he's right, which most of the time he is. If more kids were less cautious and made terrorist puppets like him, I'd be out of a job.

So my puppet making was a success, I wanted the kids to get their creativity on, so they could take some kind of life lesson away, however, apart from dirty-terrorist boy, I fear they will only take away the memory of the mental English teacher who made tranny puppets...

Does it just come naturally?

2012-01-27T19:05:00.002+09:00

Or do Americans try and piss everyone else off on purpose??

As I suspected, I've been flooded with desperate American soldiers at the school this week, the best was the group of black guys who came in from the freezing rain and said in such a desperate tone "Please tell us you know where McDonalds is!?" And to be fair, most of them have been polite and grateful for my help, but tonight a group of massive white guys came in, (obviously before reading the huge sign that says "ENGLISH SCHOOL") and asked, "You speak English??" After saying I did, they asked where they could get sushi, so I start drawing them a map and giving them directions, when one of them goes "That's so Australian, you just said 3 vowels in one word!" (The word was 'go')

Ummm, people who know me, yes, please take the piss out of my accent, I will gladly accept this ribbing and probably agree with it. Fucking random American soldier looking for my help? Keep your big mouth shut buddy! I'm not actually that pissed off, they were probably nice guys, but fuck, bit cheeky if you ask me.

Maybe I'm on edge after a dog-fucker incident that has resulted in me refusing to ask her to go pick up Ash from kindy ever again. Will have to write that one up, I totally fucking hate the in-laws at the minute. Must stop bitching and teach.

Life-altering. Part 2.

2012-01-24T09:49:00.001+09:00

Before I get to my life-altering moment, thank you for all your contributions on the last post. Some of you have AMAZING moments, it’s interesting to see what has really affected us all.

And on the topic of life-altering moments, my friend gave birth and said goodbye to her little boy who she named Kotaro, the kanji for his name is tiger and I can only imagine it’s because he put up such a fight to live. I’m heartbroken for my friend and tried to offer her my condolences the best I could. She refused the pain relief they offered her (epidurals are rare in Japan) because she wanted to remember every moment of what it was like to give birth and be a mother...Life-altering indeed.

My life-altering moment was only life-altering after the fact, years later, when I realised how things could have gone had the moment actually turned into what it was heading to. At the time, I knew it wasn’t normal, it was scary, really scary, but I never knew how close I came to what would have turned my life upside-down causing a chain-reaction of guilt and remorse for not only me. Most people are affected by what happened, but luckily I was affected by what didn’t happen.

I was 10 years old at the time, not a young 10, but 10 all the same. A kid. A child. I didn’t think it at the time but I now look at a 10 year old and see that I was still a little girl. Despite being a little girl, I desperately wanted to be a teenager, having a 15 year old sister will do that, she got so many more perks than I did: make-up, boys, late nights… I wanted it all, so I tried so hard to ignore the urges to still play with dolls and instead followed suit and plastered my walls with New Kids on the Block posters and put beads in my hair. My sister wasn’t particularly fond of my efforts but she tolerated me all the same, some times more than others.

The day in question, my sister was going to the movies with her girlfriends, and I decided I HAD to go too. She didn’t want to take me but her girlfriends thought I was cute, like a little adoring puppy, and along with my mum, who no doubt wanted a kid-free house for the afternoon, (don’t blame her now I have kids!) encouraged her to take me along. So my sister decided if I was to tag along then she would be my stylist and put me in a skirt way shorter than I would usually wear and did my make-up so I didn’t look so incredibly dorky. I felt so grown-up and beamed with pride as we all made our way through the shopping mall to the movie theatre. When we got there my sister informed me that they were going to see a movie that was rated 15+ so I had to lie about my age.

Now this is when I started getting nervous, I’ve probably mentioned before that I was an extremely nervous kid and I hated breaking or even bending rules like this. I’m totally the opposite now, I’m not sure how I grew out of it, but I did! So my sister made me recite my fake date of birth a few times and then shoved me up to the counter. The ticket lady didn’t ask my date of birth but she looked down on us over her glasses and said “You know this movie is 15+ ladies don’t you?” I must have looked incredibly guilty, but luckily my sister grabbed the tickets and we were on our way into the theatre. Just how mental I was as a kid now starts to really come out, I got so paranoid that the ushers were going to come in during the movie and remove me by the scruff of the neck, I got more and more nervous imagining what was going to happen and started to feel sick. How fucked up is that?! We’d been through the hard part but I still couldn’t shake the fear of getting in trouble and left the theatre about 10 minutes into the movie. I tried to whisper furiously to my sister that I was going outside but she was so angry at me for being a pain that she ignored me.

I walked out feeling better being out of the jaws of trouble, but then had an hour and a half to kill by myself in town. A few years later and it would have been a nice relaxing break at a coffee shop, but remember I was 10, I had no money, no phone, nothing to do, nowhere to go. So I sat on the steps of the movie theatre for a while, until a man came and talked to me. It wasn’t that unusual for a man to talk to me, I lived in a smallish city and people are pretty friendly, but something about this guy gave me the creeps. I can see him in my head now, he was an ethnic looking (am I allowed to say that!?) guy who seemed really old to me at the time but now I think about it he was probably in his late 30’s or early 40’s. He was fat, and wore lots of chunky gold jewelry. His horrible fake-looking gold watch pushed in to the roll of fat cushioning his wrist, it looked like a fat Italian sausage. He had an accent too, but I can’t really remember his voice. He talked to me for long enough that I started to feel uncomfortable, there was nothing to talk about and he started telling me I was so pretty, why was I alone? Like a 10 year old does, I told him the truth that my sister was inside the movie theatre.

The details are sketchy, it was 18 years ago, but I remember that some kind of warning bell went off in my head, he was getting more and more pushy, and said that we could go to his car and wait for my sister somewhere warm. How could I have known it at the time, that this sick cunt was trying to lure me away to do fuck knows what. I sometimes dream that I’ll see him again, which would be highly likely if I lived in my hometown, but I still have the image of him as he was burned in my brain, I almost definitely wouldn’t recognise him.

After I kept refusing to go with him, he touched my leg with the back of his hand, the way you stroke a pet that you’re not quite sure is friendly, we were still on the theatre steps in plain sight so I still felt safe, but not safe enough. Not quite enough in danger to scream either, I wasn’t really brought up to be hysterical, not a good thing as it turned out. My instincts were taking over though; I had the sense to tell him I had to go home and stood up to go. I remember he grabbed my hand and said “Nooo, not go yet, we still talking!” But I was getting really scared and pulled my hand away and started walking. I didn’t want to look behind me as I went, if he was following me I would have panicked, so I said a prayer in my head as I walked briskly up the hill, ‘Please Jesus, let him go away. Please Jesus, let him just go away…’ I went into the nearest department store, David Jones, and hovered in the perfume section, but I felt so awkward, a 10 year old doesn’t browse the fucking perfume aisle. I was still so scared, and my heart stopped as I saw the fat guy in the lobby of the department store looking around for me. He’d followed me, and now I was fucked.

My face must have been bright red, I think I was whimpering slightly too, but I still didn’t have the sense to tell someone. I often wonder why, I think I thought about it but I was too embarrassed, like they would laugh at me or something, which of course they wouldn’t have. I was still thinking about what to do when his eyes met mine and he started walking towards me, my legs just wouldn’t move, somehow I felt that if I ran away it would make it real that he was chasing me and even more scary. He came over and put his arm around my waist. “Heyyy, where you go, silly girl!?” I just had no idea what to say to him, I wriggled out of his hold and said my mother was meeting me here, I just called her from a payphone. Finally! A bit of sense on my part. But I shouldn’t have needed sense, I was fucking 10 years old. I felt it was my fault, I’d wanted to go to the movies, I’d worn a short skirt, I was tall and looked older, so he wasn’t bad, it was me. I saw very clearly how victims of abuse blame themselves, hell, I wasn’t even a victim and I’d made a whole heap of excuses for this sicko blaming myself.

I can’t remember what happened after that, I think he got scared and left, I know I stayed in that busy perfume department for a long time, there was something comforting about all the women around me. I finally cautiously made my way back to the theatre where my sister was waiting for me, angry because she didn’t know where I had been. I told her what happened, probably in a really calm, innocent voice and she had the years of experience to know that it had been a dicey situation. She instantly hugged me and said sorry, followed quickly by, “DON’T tell mum!!”

And I didn’t, but I often think of that day. What would have happened if I’d gotten in his car? Would I have been so messed up from that experience that I couldn’t function? Would he have actually done anything? How am I going to protect my kids from people like this?? I hate to think about this guy, he had to have done it before, or since then. Scary…

Life-altering. Part 1

2012-01-20T17:01:00.001+09:00

There are some times when you teach English in Japan, when you just want to take the nearest heavy object, and smack yourself in the head until you’re unconscious. We’ve all had those students; the ones that don’t like structured lessons but won’t even try to attempt making conversation. It makes an hour lesson not only painful but suicidal-thought inducing. I have a few students like this, however running my own school has it’s perks, I can do whatever I want in terms of lesson content, working at a McEikaiwa it’s impossible so I am very thankful.

Of course there are the students on the opposite end of the spectrum that are great conversational participants, they answer questions in detail and ask questions in return. And the funny thing, it has nothing to do with language level, I firmly believe that those who succeed the most at other languages are those who try to make conversation, not those who study the most. It’s these students that make me feel guilty for taking their money, at least if they bore the fuck out of me I have no problem with charging them for my pain, but when they are genuinely interesting people who I would talk to an hour for free if we were at a party, makes me feel bad. Just a teeny bit mind you, we all gotta make a living somehow!

One of these great students asked me a question the other day that really got me thinking, his question was:

“What is the moment that changed your life the most?”

Of course he asked it more like “Corinne-sensei, ahhh number 1, ahh, shocking… eh, shocking okashii ya na… shocking only bad ne? Shocking ka super good time wa when??”

Once I’d taught him ‘life-altering moment’ and told him not to pepper Japanese so much in his sentences, I thought about it.

My response was when I found out I was pregnant with Ash, and to be fair it was a pretty damn close second, but I couldn’t really reveal my real one because it was just too…personal? Inappropriate? Although the student had just proudly told me that his was when he discovered he was infertile at age 23 and then made the decision to divorce his wife on good terms because he knew she wanted kids. The paper I’d used to correct him was hilarious, little pictures of sperm with big crosses through them! His was pretty personal so maybe I should have revealed, but there was something about a tale of near-molestation that would have put a dampener on the lesson, even more so than male infertility if that was even possible!

So does anyone care to share their most life-altering moment?? I’m working on writing mine so will post it next post!

A tribute

2012-01-14T18:50:00.002+09:00

To my husband.

Actually he's been annoying the shit out of me today, but seeing as though ALL I do is bitch about him on here, I thought I should actually list the good qualities about him for once. If some bitching creeps in I'm sorry, I can't help it that he really does manage to balance out the good things with a few very annoying ones!

*He has a moral compass.
If I did a survey of 100 men who knocked up their foreign girlfriends after a few weeks of dating, I doubt many of them would have stepped up to the plate as mine did. I shouldn't be thankful for this, because it was officially half his responsibility, but I am because he had a choice to be an arsehole, or to be a man and make it work. And he did. Thank fuck. Otherwise I'd probably be a single mother smoking crack in the back alley of an Osaka street between hostess jobs while my son was in training to be a 'halfu talento' to support us.

*He sticks up for me.
Or anything he actually cares about. He's possibly the most aggressive Japanese guy I've ever met, and while this has negatives when it's directed at me, when he tells Jehovah's witnesses to go wipe their arses with their pamphlets, or bargains down our rent with amazing success, I very much appreciate this quality. Just the other day, I was knocked back for a credit card and while I pouted dejectedly at the rejection letter, he was on the phone quizzing them why it had been rejected, "Is it because she's foreign??" "We make more than enough money, why the fuck would you reject it?!" The card is in the mail.

*He's a good Dad.
Not the best in housekeeping duties (but then neither am I) but when it comes to Ash, he loves him to bits and vice versa. This is a very important quality in a man for me.

*He has dreams.
This goes on the no-no list too, but it's actually a good thing, if I were married to a salaryman drone with no ambition except to stay with the same company sucking his Superior's cocks for the rest of the life, it would be all over red-rover. As long as his pipe dreams stay a little bit confined, it really doesn't bother me.

OK, that's enough for now, too much more and he'll actually start looking like a saint. Nobody's perfect, and as much as I think he's unreasonable a lot of the time, we have to take a step back and appreciate the good things sometimes. Saying that, stay posted, the weekend is still young and I may have some bitching that needs to get out before the week starts!

Foreigner awkward alert

2012-01-12T17:59:00.002+09:00

I don't live in a country town, but I don't live in a huge city either. I'd say the immediate area where I live would be classed as a small town and about 15 minutes bike ride away is a small city... It's hard to explain, but I know a lot of the people I see around my area every day, but it's not like we're all best buddies or anything. I have my 'aisatsu group' the folks who are nice enough to have acknowledged my existence before so I always give them the courtesy of a hearty 'good morning' or 'hello'. I don't see many other foreigns around, in the small cities on either side of me I'll occasionally see another foreign, but generally, the supermarket I go to and my immediate surroundings are foreign-free. Sassymoo is probably the closest one to me, which is good, if there has to be another alien in the vicinity I'd rather it be a friend than some arse white guy who turns his nose up to anyone who is not a Japanese fan girl with a willing and open fanny.

I also live right next to an army base. Now if this were an American army base I'd probably have way more stories to tell and way better access to good food. However my army base is only Japanese soldiers. It's good for bringing in students, and as I can see the well-built boys running around the base from my house, makes lovely eye-candy too. Army boys are totally my type: built, sporty and usually up for drinking/adventure. Of course I'd love to flirt with the army boys more, but they usually steer clear of me, an army student once told me some of her friends wanted to hit on me but they were sure I was an army wife and would have a/both testicles removed if they hit on a Superior's wife. Plus, ahem, I'm happily married and all. Damn waste actually.

Anyway, I'm dreaming of army boys when my point is slipping further and further away! This month, a huge influx of American troops are coming to the base to do 3 months of training. This means local shop keepers are shitting themselves as they want the extra business but can't speak a word of the Queen's. Two new students last month were bar staff who wanted a bit of English so they wouldn't be totally lost when a bunch of thirsty soldiers came in looking for a cold one. One of the local bar staff who is one of my students asked me if I would help her translate their menu into English and I said no worries, although it was harder than I thought, translators, how the fuck do I put こんやく田楽 into English, I wanted to say shit smeared in miso shit, but I restrained myself. So we spent an hour writing her menu out in English but I probably should have just done the fried stuff and left "Octopus guts" and the like in Japanese, give them a surprise. There was still half a page left, so nice English teacher that I am, I said I'd finish it off that night and drop it in to her bar, I shall redeem my free beer for this service when I no longer have a tiny human growing in my belly. So I did, but when I walked in, I was instantly hit with a wave of panic as every face sitting at the counter was.... foreign. They all swivelled around and I was lost for words, which is fucking bizarre! Why would it make me nervous?! I gave my student the menus and tried to make a hasty exit but a noisy old man who had been bothering the soldiers was now fascinated by me and why I was bowing and apologising as I shuffled out the door in an extremely Japanese manner. He yanked my arm, his beer breath hitting me in the face just making me want a beer even more and started quizzing me on why I spoke Japanese.

Luckily my student seemed to sense my awkward vibes and told the old guy to stop harassing me and let me go. I really don't know why other foreigns in the vicinity make me feel awkward, maybe it's just that I'm so used to being the only one that I know how to do the routine in Japanese? But it made me realise I'd have to man the fuck up and get over it, at the end of the month my little area will be crawling with yanks, in my conbini, my supermarket, my running course... (I'm blowing into a paper bag as I type!)

Still, maybe a hot American soldier will sweep me off my feet for a lovely fling!? Well, maybe lug my pregnant arse off my feet, sweep would surely be impossible, even for a macho soldier...

Happy new iyaaa yo!

2012-01-04T17:47:00.001+09:00

Iyaaaa yo! is a favorite phrase of my son's and basically means "nooooo!!!!!" he uses it in a variety of situations and at various times of the day, it never ceases to get on my nerves.

Anyway, I hope you all had a lovely new year break! We're nearing the end of a week of the 3 of us being together, and do you know, by some miracle, it has been a very peaceful and enjoyable holiday! Usually I dread extended periods of time where Ryota is off work because of the bickering and general annoyance of having an extra body around the house making a mess, but this time has been good! We got into oosouji early and spent a solid 3 days of hard core sorting, throwing away and cleaning. And it was all the cleaning that I usually can't be arsed doing, like wiping the grime off the insides of window panes and stuff, gross, but very satisfying once it was all done. Of course Ryota being the hoarder that he is started to go through my rubbish bags and I kept hearing exclamations of "why are you throwing THIS away?!" and "hmmm I'm sure I could yahoo auction this..." I became a total annoying Japanese wife and made him stop immediately, I enforced a rule that unless he sells or finds a place for the things he wanted to keep that we would never use, it was going. He agreed and stashed a whole heap of crap in the back of the car that he claims he's going to sell. I'm so chucking it out after he goes to work tomorrow.

We didn't do too much over our break, lots of cleaning, a bit of shopping, a temple trip to ask the gods to give my baby 10 fingers, 10 toes and less of a tendency for tantrums unlike his/her big brother, and a lot of relaxing and going out for dinner. Not helping my expanding waistline but loving not having to cook!

As for my stalker, no more phone calls or comments, so unknown, if you're still reading: thank you for your apology, and for you know, not stalking me anymore... Thank you for all your lovely comments and support as well, I seriously considered stopping blogging for 2012 but am very glad I didn't. Let's not be too harsh on unknown either, if it was a genuine apology then I'm grateful, we all go through rough patches and some people take it out in different ways, I've heard this guy's voice and he sounds like he could be an intelligent, articulate person, I just hope whatever he was going through is better. Hell we all go a bit nuts sometimes, my nuts moment was in the midst of my heavy drinking days after I downed a bottle of vodka from the conbini and ventured to my local park intending to kill myself, of course i passed out before I could even give it a crack, plus Japanese parks aren't exactly death traps, but it was a pretty dark moment! So yeah, New year, new start and all that eh!

So far 2012 has started off well for me, not too many resolutions... do a 10km run after the baby is born, here's hoping I'm not still bleeding all over the course! Eww, sorry, but it's true...
One bit of sad news I can't stop thinking about is my friend who was due to have her baby at the end of this month has just found out that her baby won't live after he is born. Heartbreaking, and of course me being a dickhead who had no idea, sent her a happy new year mail saying "our babies will be born in the same year, they can be friends!" you know those times where you just wish so hard that you could take something you said or wrote back? Yeah totally one of those. I really feel for my friend and just don't know what to say to make her feel better.

But apart from that, things are going well, Ash is as genki as ever, Ryota's grumpy level is set on low for now and I've finally got some energy back after months of feeling permanently like I wanted to sleep 24 hours a day.
I hope 2012 will be a great year for you all, I'm looking forward to reading everyone's blogs, hopefully finding new blogs, and writing lots myself!

Happy new year!

Wow...

2011-12-29T17:17:00.001+09:00

I have no other words for it.

This past week, on this blog, and on a few other Japan blogs, a guy, if we can call him that, has been leaving nasty comments with no real clear argument or rhyme, or reason. Just pure nastiness.
I love a good fight, an argument over opinions is great, as heated as you like, but pure racist bile and filth spewing from someone's mouth and all over their keyboard just because they are hiding behind the safety and security of the Internet, not my thing at all.

I've never had to moderate comments on this blog until now, because even though I've had weird/mean/bizarre comments before, they've always been somewhat in context to the post or the situation, call me a dirty whore on the Mickey mouse wanking post, no problem! Tell me I'm an idiot for staying with my husband and whinging all the time, go ahead, feel free! I even left one of the comments which said I wasn't aging well, because, well, if that's your opinion then I'm cool with it. Straight out abuse, I'm not cool with.

I wasn't even going to dignify his childish behavior with a response because it's not even worth it, but there's a point where nasty comments go over the line, and become stalking. That happened this morning when I received a phone call and lengthy abusive voicemail from this person, that my friends is what we call stalking and all phone records have now been turned over to the police.

Am I scared? No, I'd love for this "man" to come say hi one day and show me how tough he is in real life. Fat white bitches can be pretty tough you know, especially us barbaric Australians!
Am I disgusted? Appalled? Bewildered? Yes. That a person who I don't know at all hates me with such a passion that he'd leave a comment like this:

Unknown has left a new comment on your post "Holidays!!!":

"Man up and respond, fatfuck bitch.

Because, you know, you already look like a man.

Fucking white Australians - animals, the lot of you.

Oh snap - wasn't your little fat fag with saggy arms teaching-in-an-eikaiwa-like-a-little-fuck fuckbuddy Chris supposed to hunt me down for you?

Nah, he just blocked or edited my replies. Like the little white bitch he is - you know like your daddy. All the same, white men - all little aggressive, coward bitches.

Hope you look forward to more prank calls at your little school, then! That, and spamming 2chan with the delicious morsel that will set those peeps alight - a nasty bitch whore white woman teaching their poor, innocent Japanese kids in Tsuruoka! The scandal!"

An unprovoked attack on a woman who received this comment notification and abusive phone call while lying next to a sleeping toddler and who is 4 months pregnant. Going for the tough target. Wow.

So unknown, here is my response, I wish I could give you some better ones, but quite honestly, I'm not sure what you're looking for. Am I white, fat, Australian? Yes. Am I proud of being white...? Hell no. Ummm, not sure, but I think this pretty much covers it.

Thank you to all the wonderful people who read my blog and don't stalk me, gosh I love you guys! ♥

Holidays!!!

2011-12-26T10:31:00.000+09:00

Well, I am now officially on winter hols, it's been a long year work-wise, I took no public holidays and the bare minimum time off, and I've got the financial rewards, but am totally exhausted what with work, small child and even more childish husband, I'm fucked!

Of course the time Ryota is off will not really be a holiday, as he will no doubt go into Oosouji nazi mode and have us all cleaning every square inch of the house. I HATE doing it but am actually glad he kicks my bum into gear because I would never do it on my own and feel so much better when it's all finished.

Ash got totally spoiled for Christmas, but that's what Christmas is for afterall, I had a horrible Christmas eve which had me crying in a supermartket (more on that later) but after a tiring Christmas morning doing the school party, I ended up having a lovely roast dinner at Sassymoo's house with friends and great food, so not so bad afterall!

Ryota didn't get me a present, then predictably blamed me for not telling him what I wanted, but what else is new.

I missed my family but am hoping to make the trek home next year so I don't have to endure another Japanese Christmas.

Am kind of looking forward to the quiet New Year in Japan, eating, sleeping and organising the house for the new baby is all that's really on the agenda.

Well, that was my disconnected thought post for today! I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas whether here in Japan or wherever you are. Here's hoping that 2012 brings us all the things we wish for!

My one word?

2011-12-23T19:08:00.000+09:00

Well ,like a lot of you, one word was hard, but mine is...

impersonal

Anyone who lives in Japan will relate to this I think. Although impersonal has negative connotations attached to it, but in all honesty, I like a bit of removal from human contact for most things. And in Japan, impersonal = efficient.

You want to shag your secretary without your wife finding out? Go to a love hotel where a curtain separates you from any eye contact as you hand over your bills, dripping with guilty pleasure.

You need a fanny cam? Again, no interaction here, all behind a curtain!

You want a cheap curry from your local all-night restaurant? Line up and push a button for your ticket buddy, service with a smile ain't happenin' in this establishment!

The list goes on, and not all of them are good, the only reason that customer service is so damn good in Japan is because nobody actually gives a fuck about who they're serving, they're serving a customer and their robotic mind has been programmed from day 1 in Japanese society that they have a duty to perform, nothing more, nothing less.

Another huge thing that makes me sad about the impersonal nature of Japan is the lack of human... contact? I am the only mother at kindy that gives my son massive sloppy kisses when I say goodbye, most of them give high fives or just say "onegaishimasu" to the teacher, but I want my kid to know that I still love him despite palming him off on complete strangers for 8 hours a day. I hate the fact that there's no hugging within families, no comforting pats, no touching. Although dog-fucker likes to give random creepy massages bordering on sexual around my bum area and that really freaks me the fuck out...

Am I becoming one of them? A cold fish? Never wanting to take on a human heart but stick to the impersonal shell that works so well for me in so many ways?

I don't think so, not yet anyway.

I ALWAYS feel most homesick at Christmas time, I'm not sure why because Christmas at home usually ends up in being hot and bothered (literally) trying to cook Christmas dinner and a big fight at the end of the day. But at least it was real, nitty-gritty family stuff. It also doesn't help that Ryota always manages to fail spectacularly in the present/Christmas spirit department and ends up blaming me for not telling him what I wanted as a present. I've gone all out for Ash and Ryota, but that's because I like giving presents more than I like receiving them too.

So merry Christmas, I will no doubt end up crying in to a glass of fake champagne!

Thank you for all the 'one word' comments, I could relate to a lot of them!

Describe Japan in one word.

2011-12-20T22:21:00.001+09:00

Go on, give it a go!

I was just thinking about mine but it intrigues me so I'll let you know my thoughts after I hear some other words of view.

The threesome that wasn't.

2011-12-17T17:24:00.000+09:00

She didn't know how she got herself into these situations. It was 10am on a Sunday morning, the morning after, and she had woken up to the distant smell of deodorant and sweat as her eyes and brain, fuzzy from the remains of the alcohol still pumping through her blood, got used to her surroundings. She realised her face was resting on a dark brown chest, the tattoo running down it right next to her nose. And behind her, two bony, white knees wedged in between her legs much like a child in the womb. Hands rested on her shouler and on her belly in a protective pose. The room was horribly messy, as was her head, fumbling to piece together what had happened the night before. But there were more important things to think about, a piss and a shower to start with, then perhaps another drink to take the edge off.

It had started the night before, Saturday, her best friend and room mate, her saviour in Japan, was going home. And so a sayonara party had taken place, with a mixture of sadness and excitement for the future without her confident friend to lean on, she went to the gritty streets of Osaka for the obligatory bar hopping that had to take place whenever someone escaped the clutches of Japan to start their real lives. Her friend was popular, actually she felt a little hurt that she didn't get to spend more time with just her friend, she didn't want to share her with the crowds of adoring male fans and loud, high-pitched Japanese girls. But her friend was one of those shining stars of people that not only was a good friend, but could charm the panties off just about anyone, charisma to the extreme, and not in the cheesy way either.

So she kept to herself until she was well and truly drunk, sticking with her dark brown guy friend, who had a Japanese girlfriend but liked to drink and eat Korean BBQ with the girl, and more often than not ending up snogging in a Karaoke booth with her until 9am. They had never slept together, and it was never going to happen, but alcohol does that to you, pushes you a little bit over the edge of reason but not quite to the point of no return. They were best friends, and there wasn't much that could destroy that. On the other side of her, apart from the empty beer glasses, was the gay guy who they sometimes worked with. And he wasn't just 'gay,' he was a total flaming queen. You instantly knew within a few seconds of meeting him that he was impossibly gay, the hand gestures, the voice and the sexual innuendos were a dead giveaway. He was entertaining and had a crush on her dark brown friend so it was an interesting dynamic, although for a gay guy he touched her way more than she would have liked, it made her uncomfortable, and she was already uncomfortable enough in her own skin, without someone else making it crawl.

After more alcohol than ever should have been consumed, the conversation turned dirty, as it always tends to do, and gay guy tried to convince dark brown guy to just give 'being gay' a go. Like it was a trial for a new lifestyle and sexual orientation and a great deal. She laughed at this prospect and was secretly grateful that the attention was totally off her, but she was the buffer, gay guy was about 80% serious and dark brown guy kept joking and looking to her for support. Finally, dark brown guy agreed that if gay guy could get him hard, he'd give it a go. Sounds simple right? Well, that's what dark brown guy was like, open to anything if it was boiled down to pure simplicity. His argument was that he was straight, therefore it was physically impossible to get a hard on from another guy. The girl was totally pissed by this point and was fascinated by the whole argument of fundamental sexual biology. So the three of them left to go home, they all lived in the same area and hopped straight off the train into the local underground bar to order hard liquor and little bowls of fried foods dripping in oily delicious batter. This is the point in time where it became apparent that things were getting serious, gay guy started fondling dark brown guy under the table and she became increasingly aware of how bad it must have looked to every other person in the bar, yet the drunken haze surrounding her made it impossible to do nothing but giggle and exchange desperate glances with dark brown guy.

After about an hour at the bar it was time to push on home, to dark brown guy's house, gay guy was determined to give him a hard on, but he'd had no joy so far. Gay guy rationalised this to dark brown guy being too drunk, but she'd been in enough Karaoke boothes with him to know that he got a hard on when looking at ads for bras and panties, it wasn't that he was drunk, it was that he wasn't gay, and he wasn't turning gay for this guy who wasn't particularly ugly, but nothing that special either.
As they loaded up on covini beers and bottles of vodka to numb the reality of what was going to happen, the girl whispered to the dark brown guy, "Should I go home?!" "NOOOO" he hissed back at her, he was desperate to get out of this situation but it seemed there was no turning back now, gay guy was determined.

Finally, they got to his flat, after the girl stopped in the park to have some vodka and a swing on the swings, increasing the vodka's effects. As they traipsed up the steps, gay boy was still chatting excitedly about what fun the dark brown guy was going to have and she wondered where he thought she fit in to it all, dark brown needed her, but gay guy...
They flopped on the bed, exhausted and drunk and gay guy got straight to it under the covers searching for dark brown guy's dick, the girl giggling at the tangle of wandering hands and web of legs that was going on. Gay guy tried, for a long time, with no success to get him hard, and finally, dark brown guy said "It's no use, I'm not gay, sorry!" But gay guy was still persistent, insisting that it was because he was drunk. The girl had lost interest by this point and was watching a comedy DVD much to the dismay of dark brown guy, when she suddenly heard her name in a desperate tone of voice. Dark brown guy had had a light bulb go off in his head, he needed to prove he wasn't too drunk to get a hard on, but also that he wasn't gay, so he asked the girl to please take her clothes off and give him a blow job, then it would prove he wasn't gay.

The girl was bemused, she hadn't realised she would be dragged in to this scandalous web, but beer in hand, was suddenly excited by the idea of proving the gay guy wrong, like dashing his dreams would prove something about her, so she whipped her top off and dived in. Sure enough dark brown guy got hard as soon as she started, it was probably more from familiarity and relief than anything else, and proudly showed his engorged cock off to gay guy, who was sulking, naked on the side of the bed. They messed around for as long as they could, until gay guy tried to get in on the action, when the girl pretended to pass out, only to really pass out. Thoughts swirled through her head as she fell into the deep sleep that drinking induces, she wondered what was going to happen when they all woke up. And then they did.

This is a true story that happened not that long ago, but so long it feels like a lifetime ago. The girl is me by the way, just in case you were worried I've been pretending this whole time and I'm actually a gay guy or a dark brown one...

An update

2011-12-15T18:00:00.000+09:00

Sorry to leave you hanging with all the misery!

Of course things are a lot better since last post, but they've been up and down, depending on Ryota's moods, which makes me believe more and more every day that he is suffering from some kind of mental health issue. And I'm not even being a smart arse, I think he might have some form of depression, not that I'm an expert or anything, but I've been around people with mental illnesses pretty much my whole life and know the signs. It's just a shame I don't think I'm one of those strong people who can get him through it, I'm just not strong enough, so we're all pretty much fucked!

Although I still maintain that if we just shag more all our problems will be solved, a good shag always makes things better!

And speaking of... There's something interesting been going on there. Don't worry, nothing too gory, but basically, when Ryota and I first dated, I think we did the normal amount of kissing, well for a part J-couple anyway. Kissing when shagging was always on the cards but not so much at other times (not counting quick pecks when saying goodbye). But after we got married, the kissing TOTALLY stopped. Not during shag time, not any time! I like kissing so I was a bit miffed, but you know, it's not that exciting when it's with someone you're married to anyway, so meh, no big loss. Then, about 2 weeks ago, he just started up with the kissing during shagging. I have no idea why, but now it is standard! Not complaining, but why would it just start up now?? I'm perfecting his technique too, he was all shove-the-tongue-right-down-the-throat in the beginning, but he's actually improving and I look forward to some of the only real intimacy we have. But really, how intimate can it get with a snoring 2 year old next to you?? Still, I take what I can get in this affection starved world I live in.

Christmas season is as busy as fuck as usual but I have decided to take 2 blissful weeks off over New Year and Christmas because, well it's my school and I'll bludge if I want to. I can't wait to be a real mum and take Ash to the park and stuff!

I'm pretty much organised present wise, sent my $200 worth of postage back to the family, funny when the postage starts costing more than the damn gift. Of course Ryota bitched and moaned like he always does about Christmas western style being expensive and too much of a bother until I told him to shut his trap, he didn't have to do any of the hard work and that it can't be helped, Christmas is expensive, deal.

I'm slowly but surely eating my way in to fattyville again, but being pregnant gives you this luxury I guess, I'll just have to take shit loads of drugs and starve myself after bubby is born. The things we do...

I HATE not being able to drink, I was literally drooling over all the foreign wines they have at our local supermarket for the festive season. Surely the baby won't mind a little drop on Chrissy night or New year's eve???

I've been having terrible cravings for Indian food, which luckily for me, is good and fairly cheap in Japan, however most of the time, the only person with enough free time/no life to go with me, is dog fucker. I hate going to dinner with her but can't really well go by myself, so I've eaten out twice with dog fucker recently. She's totally due for a mood swing so maybe I should get one more meal out of her before she snaps and retreats to her dog-fucking cave.

And again...

2011-12-02T16:07:00.001+09:00

International marriage fucking blows.

I hate being married in Japan sometimes. To a Japanese guy. To my Japanese guy?

So, this is how it went down this morning:

All was fine, Ryota has been helping me at home, a lot this week as I felt like I was going to die from a tummy bug on Wednesday and Thursday, but brownie points or not, this morning cleared them all. We get on to conversations on work, my work. Next year I'm changing the school system so I get public holidays and some extra time off, I worked my bum off this year and it just ain't gunna happen next year, I'll be dead by I'm 30. I'm excited about the new system, it's a good system but the extra holidays may mean that some students quit. I'm prepared for this and said to Ryota that we just had to accept that next year will not be a huge money-making year for the school because a) The new system will probably mean some drop-outs. b) I'm not going to do any advertising campaigns due to having small human inside belly. And c) I'm going to have to pay a teacher for at least a while to cover some, if not all of my lessons during baby pushing-out time.
This was a reasonable statement I think, I've accepted this, but like always, Ryota turns into a fucking mental case whenever we talk about money.

So after I said we'd just have to accept next year wasn't going to be that financially good, he said "So you're telling me I can never quit my job??" And as soon as he said it I knew he just wanted a fight. That wasn't what I was saying, but honestly, I wanted to. For him to quit his job any time soon is absolutely fucking insane to me. And to answer some comments, he wants to start his own landscaping business when he quits his job, and I support this, just not now. When my business, the main salary of the house, is also going to be shitty for a while. Once the bub goes to kindy, I can go back to working my arse off and have a stable income and THEN I want him to follow his fucking pipe dreams, it won't matter if he fails then. If he fails now, we're fucked.

The reason he wants to quit his job? Is because he doesn't get along with people, but how the fuck do you tell someone nicely that it's not everyone else, it's him that's the fucker?? Not always, but I can't believe that it's ALWAYS everyone elses's fault either. I'm sure working in a Japanese workplace is horrid, but he needs to man up and do it like every other person, no?? Am I being unreasonable?? Should I just let him quit if that's what he wants to do??

Anyway, I knew he wanted to fight, sometimes I think he needs to fight to get rid of stress but it just stresses me out more, so he kept asking "When can I quit??" "You don't think I can start my own business??" To which I answered in Japanese, "Dekiru toomou yo" (No, I think you can do it.) To which he WENT OFF, saying 'don't talk to me like a fucking kid!! What the fuck is that!?' Which really fucking upset me, I wasn't being cheeky, maybe I made a mistake in Japanese but fuck me he makes mistakes and uses stupid English all the time and I never say anything, because that's what you do in an international marriage, you fucking just understand what the other person is trying to say.

I'm so upset.

Then he asks me where the lighter is because he's going to start smoking again, he wanted me to stop him but I just didn't have the energy but it made me realise I've married a man with total mental weakness, he can't handle stress so he takes it out on others or other things. So disappointing that I've married a fucking mental case.

So at lunchtime he sends me this message:

"you dont wanna say sorry"

I replied with a massive rant that the only thing I could say sorry for was not being able to make him happier, because only he could do that.

Then he replied with:

"Why should I have to work next year? Us right?"

Ummmmm what the fuck, he wants to have the fucking baby?? Go ahead buddy!!! Be my guest, get fat, give birth, have to give up a job you actually like. Fucking cunt.

I sent him a reply to this effect that his tiny mind could comprehend and he replied with:

"you made me so angly im enught done i gave to u chance! done"

See what I mean about not tearing his fucking engrish to pieces, I would never belittle him and do that! (well except on my blog, but he already did the damage!!) I replied that he needn't come home tonight, he should stay at his Dad's house because after working 11 hours today I don't need an argument or the silent treatment. He said "got it. see you." So who fucking knows what that means most likely he'll come home and be a complete prick anyway but I really hope not.

Isn't this a horrible thought I just had, maybe if he came home and we had such a big argument that I had a miscarriage it would solve our problems.

Fucking messy, sorry for the horrible darkness, but I need some way to let it out!

Jumping

2011-12-01T17:42:00.001+09:00

To conclusions, and literally that is.

On the weekend, we went to... the horse races. I know, gambling with the toddler on the weekend sounds a bit seedy, but we didn't go for the gambling, we went for the massive kids park they have there to lure families so it isn't just old men sucking on cigarettes to disguise the stench of desperation that seeps from their pores.

Still plenty of desperate old men putting their last bit of yen and dignity to their names on a galloping animal with a mini-person riding it, they all gave me plenty of gaijin stares too, I felt like saying "FUCK YOU, DEGENERATE GAMBLER!!" in a Tony Soprano voice, but I restrained myself.
So after we cleared the actual gambling area, we got to the massive, and it is huge, park for kids. 5 different play equipment thingies, swings, slides, sand, even TV screens for the dads so they can keep one eye on little Hiro-kun and the other on his sure bet. But the most impressive thing: massive titties!!!

Yes! Actual big soft, bouncy titties that the kids can bounce on. The more politically correct may call these mochi mountains or something, but if you just painted a nipple on each peak, perfect tits!

So Ash headed straight for the bouncy titties but instead of climbing up and bouncing like a normal kid, had great difficulty getting up the sides to bouncy fun heaven. He tried about 10 times and was getting so frustrated with himself as his lardy arse kept sliding down he gave a big dramatic "NOOOOOO!!!!" each time. It was quite funny for me to watch, seeing as though I'm more of the type of mother that stands and giggles at her son's frustrations rather than helps him. I decided I'd give him a few more tries and then give his little bum a boost, but as I was being amused by his failure to bounce on the tits, I noticed two boys up the top looking at Ash. They were probably about 3rd or 4th graders and looked from me to Ash and obviously made the connection that he was a halfie. I also noticed that every time Ash got close to the top they were bouncing so close to him that it was contributing to his falls back down the sides. I watched for a few more times and already decided I hated these two little fuckers, obviously they were just being smart arses trying to stop the little kid getting up by bouncing in his space! So I led Ash over to the middle of the two tits where the sides weren't quite so steep so it would be easier for him to climb up.

Although he still was having trouble, it seemed a bit easier for him but then I noticed the same two boys had followed him and were now bouncing at the top where Ash was trying to get up. I really started to get pissed off then. Were they bullying him?? Because he was little?? Chubby?? A halfie?? Ash was still failing miserably and as the two boys got so close to Ash that it was impossible for him to get up, I was a second away from telling them to go fuck off or I would release gaijin fury on them, when suddenly the smaller of the two boys gave me a quick glance and caught Ash's hand as he once again slid hopelessly to the bottom of the titties. I was a bit shocked, but thought I'd see what would happen when I heard the boy say "NOOOO jyanai yo! Dekiru yo!" (Don't say NO! You can do it!) And I was flabbergasted as the smaller boy took his hands and the bigger boy pushed his bum from behind and they helped him up to the top.

Thank fucking God I didn't tell them off.

I'd looked at these poor kids through suspicious gaijin eyes, I didn't even think that maybe they'd been plucking up the courage to help him. And I felt ashamed and realised that I've been living in Japan so long with people assuming I can't use chopsticks and staring at me and asking me if I'm a Russian hostess, that I'm way too defensive. I feel like when I came here I was a cute innocent porcupine and I'm still that porcupine, only I'm just waiting for someone to piss me off, my spikes ready and willing to jab anyone that has a go.

It was a good experience though, it made me realise that not everyone in the world is a cunt, and if I go through life thinking they are then I'm going to encounter way more of them along the way. Wow, who knew I could get an inspirational line in with the word cunt... Score!

At peace

2011-11-26T17:11:00.001+09:00

With Japan.

Or so I thought. Lately I've been so wrapped up in my own personal problems (do I need to re-cap: motherfucker of a husband, living in a close proximity to annoying in-laws, having a sister-in-law who molests small dogs, bun in the oven and at a loss what to do...) that I haven't really had time to be annoyed with Japan or Japanese people.

Yesterday though, I had a series of small instances that once again had me itching to take a flag of the rising sun and use the red circle as a target to take a big, steaming dump on it.

Yeah, put that in your imagery pipe and smoke it!

So it started off when I ventured out to the doctors for another fanny-cam. Lovely. I wore a skirt because I knew there may have been a fanny-cam involved. OK, that's a big lie, I wore a skirt because it's lighter when I do the weigh-in of shame in front of the nurses... But anyway, it's chilly, but not totally ridiculous to be wearing a skirt, plus it wasn't a slapper mini-skirt, it went down to my knees! But of course, the next door neighbour almost had a heart attack because god forbid I would go out in a skirt on a cold day. She accosted me as I mounted my bicycle, struggling to balance the bike and not flash her my minge, I gave a hearty "Ittekimasuuu!" like a good neighbour does, and was on my way, but she stopped me in my tracks, inquiring why I was wearing a skirt on such a cold day, and without boots! If she'd had a little notebook I swear she would have written me up. And do you know what else shits me, apart from the fact that my dressing habits are none of her fucking business? She's not even Japanese, she's Korean! She's just been in this country too damn long that she feels the need to make observations on how other people are inappropriately dressed for the weather.

My next incident, was at Costco. Fucking Costco, it shaves years off my life every time I go to that fucking place. In a nutshell, I bought a book, and they couldn't find the price tag for it, so instead, they just got another book, a Disney book that was clearly more expensive than the book I'd picked out and used the price tag from that the sneaky fuckers, so when I realised what they'd done I questioned the guy at the counter who palmed me off to another counter, who then took 20, yes 20 minutes to find the book I'd wanted only to tell me I had to join the fucking 20 minute line of people to re-purchase at proper price. It reminded me of customer service back home, I was so fired up that I fucking fainted on my shopping cart. I have low blood pressure as it is but when I'm pregnant and angry it almost definitely will lead to passing out. After a sweaty recovery, where NO FUCKER helped me, I was so fucked off that I just took the book and dealt with the fact that I'd been ripped off by pure incompetence. Now Costco is separate from Japan, but the fact that everybody ignored me when I clearly fainted, IS a Japan thing. Pregnant or not, if a person slumps over their shopping cart in my vicinity I'm going to try and help the poor bastard. But alas, this is Japan where not helping people is conveniently masked with the excuse of not wanting to embarrass them. Fucking cunts.

And finally, as I was cycling home, an old woman dithered and dallied and got in my fucking way, causing my bike tyre to fall in to a crack and make me skid. It wasn't that dangerous but I clenched my teeth and hissed "stupid fucking bitch!" as she did a small jog of a few steps to get out of the way. When it was too late. No sorry from her, just an icy glance as she realised I was cursing her in English. Is it that hard to just stay out of the angry, pregnant gaijin girl's way?!

Like a little rag doll.

2011-11-25T15:58:00.001+09:00

I haven't written anything in way too long. I've lost my groove. Actually, to be honest, Ive lost my groove in most areas of my life, not just blogging!

Since discovering that I'm pregnant, I've been having some struggles, and I hate it. I hate that women are the ones who have to give birth. I hate that I have to choose my job or my baby. But perhaps I'm being too selfish, here's my perfect world scenario: I want to spend the first year with the baby and then when he or she can go to kindy, I want to go back to working full-time. But shit ain't gunna go down like that, just not possible. And I love how Ryota says "So, when do you think you'll be able to work, after 3 weeks, a month??" And it shits me to tears, yes I CAN work, but I don't fucking want to. I don't want to give up my career and be a stay at home mum forever, but I want the first year to bond with my child. When they start getting mobile and cheeky then fuck, they can go to kindy all day everyday for all I care. If I go back to work after a month, I'll still be bleeding, I'll still be leaking fucking milk from my nipples. PLUS I'm going to have to do the morning lessons at the school as soon as possible, because I can't afford to hire two teachers a day. The point is, I'm going to have to sacrifice my career or my motherhood, but probably both.

I'm at such a loss as what to do and it's stressing me out to the point where I can't sleep, or when I do I wake up in a cold sweat after a nightmare or grinding my teeth too hard.

I wish women had some kind of other option, I fucking hate having a vagina sometimes.

On other fronts, Ryota is being a poster husband (for the moment) because he wants to quit his job and after much bitching I told him unless he smartened the fuck up and did his share of housework the only time he'd be quitting his job was after the ink was dry on our freshly stamped divorce papers. So he's been on a good husband mission ever since, washing up, cleaning the kitchen and not bitching to his usual extent, I'm loving it! Of course I'll never let him quit his job, no matter how much of a good Mr Mum he is, we'd all be fucked without his steady income and much anticipated bonuses. I'll certainly let him dream for as long as I can milk his housework skills though.

So this is a whiny advice-seeking post. What would you do if you were me? Have you ever been in this situation? Advise me oh wise internet world!!

Due June 26th 2012, AKA the deadline!!!

Fanny-cam Japan

2011-11-12T16:55:00.001+09:00

There are many things I hate about being pregnant, let me just list a few-
*tiredness
*heartburn
*getting horribly fat
*stretch marks
*moodiness
*not being able to drink or take drugs
*feeling like a watermelon is going to fall out of your fanny very time you walk around...

The list goes on and on, and don't even get me started on child birth, miracle of life my fucking engorged tit.

However, there is one particular aspect I'd like to focus on today, and that, is the fanny-cam. I've never actually seen a fanny-cam but I imagine it looks something like a hair curling iron, long and strait but slightly cylindrical and stainless steel. Could be way off here, but that's the image I have anyway. When you're only a little bit pregnant, they can't see the little bacteria sucking away at it's mother's vital nutrients, they need a fanny-cam for that. I've had the fanny cam about 5 times now, and that's 5 more times than I'd like, it's awful. Let me break it down for those who are interested...

First of all, you are led in to the little room by the nurse and told to strip down on the lower half.

Then you sit in the chair that lets half your bum and fanny hang out the bottom.

After that, the chair tells you in a sweet, Japanese voice over- "The chair will now move, please take care!"

And like something out of a futuristic James Bond extravaganza, the chair lifts, swivels and opens your legs so all the nurses and doctor can see what you had for breakfast.

Legs are left dangling helplessly as you lie back and just try and deal with the humiliation of it all, thanking the lord for the very Japanese style curtain that separates your flushed red face and those of the straight faced nurses and doctor.

Then, the doctor tells you to relax. Uh huh, something that I think resembles a curling iron is about to be inserted in to my vagina, not relaxin' Doc!

Once it's in it doesn't actually hurt but makes me squirm when they move it to the left and right to get pictures of my ovaries. My ovaries don't do snapshots, they're camera shy, like most of my insides!

Just yesterday I had my most recent fanny-cam and after the voice of the doctor had explained where the baby was and had poked fanny-cam around to get the shots of whatever he wanted, I was instructed to get dressed and then go and talk to the doctor. Same doctor that had just had a close encounter with my twat mind you. So I did the dress of shame and trudged in to the office to see the doctor. He started talking and after about 5 seconds actually looked at my face and gave a big surprised sound, it was my favourite doctor from when I was pregnant with Ash, I'd always liked him so I was happy to see him too, but I couldn't help thinking, 'You didn't recognise me from the fanny-cam?!' Maybe all fannies do look the same but I thought a foreign one might have given him a hint... Then again, if he'd been poking around my bits and said "Ohhhhh I remember this fanny now!!! It's the strange foreign fanny!!!" I would have been pretty freaked out too.

I'm hoping my next appointment will skip the fanny-cam and go straight to the jelly-belly ultrasounds.

What are you all crazy?!?!

2011-11-07T18:07:00.000+09:00

And should I mention that I was going to make the title, "What are you all FUCKING crazy!?!?" but restrained myself for fear of insulting my lovely readers.

The best pressie in my belly was the maltesers and freddo frogs my mum sent me!

Of course the baby comes in at a close 2nd, but still!

Yes, there is a tiny little bun getting ready to be cooked until soft and squishy, when I shall be put through the most insane pain of my life. For the second time. Hopefully for the last time.

I'm not sure how to feel about being pregnant, I shouldn't even be telling anyone, I'm only about 8 weeks and all sorts of pregnancy websites say don't say anything until 12 weeks in case you miscarry, but fuck, I wouldn't be able to keep that a secret either, may as well have it all out in the open eh!

I'm actually quite stressed out about the whole thing, I knew I wanted another baby, Ash will totally turn into a spoiled bratty chonan if he doesn't at least learn to share his stuff, but when I went on a shagging fest and stopped taking the magic little pill that prevents you going through the horror of pregnancy I didn't really quite think it all through.. (Story of my life, no?!) A baby is all good, but my main worry is the school, if anyone wants to come and work at my school for minimum wage but the bonus of getting to see my ugly mug every day, let me know!

Still, things with Ryota have been better of late, so that's one area that's not stressing me out. The emotional side of pregnancy is fucking me off no end, I cried yesterday because the washing wasn't dry and it was still drizzling outside. Ummmm who the fuck cries over washing?! Morning sickness is also hitting me a bit when I wake up, I'm craving orange juice 24/7, and don't even get me started on the amount of pissing that goes with pregnancy!

So that's my big news, I had a lovely birthday (even though I couldn't drink!) and despite the stress, I'm looking forward to life as a 28 year old!

Making my own

2011-11-03T07:24:00.001+09:00

Happiness that is.

Go shorty, it's my birthday! Although another wrinkle to the collection isn't much to celebrate, I still love birthdays. In Japan, not so much. Ryota never fails to spectacularly disappoint me, and it's not even his fault, it's totally a culture thing. So this year, I made my own fun!

Here is what I have planned...

* For a start, I took the day off work, unheard of recently! And I didn't make excuses, I told the truth " sorry so-and-so san, you can't book a lesson on Thursday, because I'm being totally selfish and having a fun day for my birthday, if you don't like it, fuck off!" well, in so many words..

* Next, I'm blogging this from bed, and don't intent to get out until absolutely necessary.

* Which will be at about 11am when I have a hair appointment at a swanky salon in Osaka to have some drastic hair changes. I've been doing my hair at home for so long, it's in desperate need of a change, expect pics!

* After that, I will go to USJ (universal studios Japan) with Ash and Ryota for some fun, excessive amounts of over-priced sugary treats and cute souvenirs and the final day of the Halloween parade at night. More for ash than me, but his happiness is my happiness because you know, I'm such a fucking saint of a mother and all!

* Then, to top it off, a massive steak or some other similarly American artery blocker for dinner at the hard rock cafe. And if I'm not too full, which I totally will be, there shall be cake.

* Ooooooo I didn't even mention the pressies! My mum went halves in my new electrical bicycle, carries two kids and plump gaijin arse easily, is very cool lookin, and gets all our lardy arses up hills at about 40km/hr. I also got the new iPhone 4s, Ryota is claiming this as his present to me, but I'm not sure it counts, he got one too! Whatever, I have an awesome new phone, this is all that matters! I also got packages from my mum, sister and aunty that I haven't opened yet. I'm pretty sure dog fucker might have got me something too, let's all look forward to the hilarity that will bring!

But the best pressie, is in my belly.

I'm 28 today by the way, a good age? I honestly don't mind getting older, especially in Japan where senpai is everything!

So happy birthday to me! My advice for poor, romance-deprived foreign wives? Do it yourself, no other fucker will!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Sorrrrrryyyyyy

2011-10-31T16:54:00.002+09:00

Not dead. Almost. Dead tired.

Yesterday marked the end of a two week stint without a day off. Not that every day was jam-packed, but still, there's something very tiring about no day off to look forward to for a lonｇ period of time.

At least yesterday was a fun Halloween party, I was a princess, MIL a pumpkin, and Ash Mike Wasowski from Monsters Inc. A lovely day was had by all but god damn I was glad it was over.

I fucking suck for not writing more, but I have 3 lessons back to back, but promise to write about my experience of working for a cult of rich women tomorrow!

Pissed

2011-10-21T20:05:00.002+09:00

As in pissed off, not drunk. I wish I was drunk.

And I'm not sure if I'm pissed off enough to constitute that word, maybe 'miffed' would be a better choice.

Let me back up and see what you think...

I have a student, and she's a very typical eikaiwa student, we've all taught a version of her. Because she's one of my students, let's call her... S-san. She's in her 50's, a housewife and she teaches English to kids on the side. Not really for any other reason than the status, it would seem.
Her English isn't bad, but I certainly wouldn't want my kid learning English from her. Whatever. She's nice enough, although has that twang of racism/prejudice that is so common in older ladies here, but you just let it slide, because they're paying for your Internet shopping addiction by you chatting to them and letting shit that normally would make you hit them over the head with a textbook, slide.

S-san has 2 daughters, one is a Japanese OL and the other lives in Australia. This was a nice topic generator for us, me being a dinky die sheila and all. Now last week, as I was waiting for her to turn up for her scheduled lesson, I got a pretty big shock when she rocked up with her daughter who lives in Australia AND her Australian boyfriend... Had I been prepared for a foreigner to waltz in to my classroom I may have been able to think of some questions to ask them, just mentally prepare myself for a lesson that involved another native speaker and 2 Japanese speakers. We mail each other regularly for lesson scheduling and i really would have appreciated her telling me beforehand, but it's cool, not brain surgery, I dealt. Although I have to admit, there were many awkward pauses, nobody really knew what to talk about, I was asking questions that nobody seemed to want to answer, and apparently the reason that they had even come was to ask advice on how he could live in Japan. Ummmm not that hard, get a crappy job in McEikaiwa and then decide where you want to go...

But the thing that made it worse, it was PAINFULLY obviously that the daughter and her boyfriend did not want to be there, and who could blame them, I wouldn't want to go with my mother to her language class either! But the daughter was much worse than the goofy Aussie dude actually. I find that I often clash with J-girls who have lived overseas, I don't know why but I find a lot of them are... Bitchy? Arrogant? Snotty? I'm not sure but this bitch really rubbed me the wrong way, she had her arms folded over her chest the whole time and would give no answer/one word answers, and put in words like "whatever" and "anyway" in a really bitchy manner. Her boyfriend had a little more tact but still kind of annoyed me, get a handle on your bitches man!

So when they left I let out a big sigh of relief, but then I had S-san again today and we were talking about the boyfriend. The family all hate him, and I kind of felt bad so I was sticking up for him saying that at least he had a stable job, was making an effort to learn Japanese and not being a total bum unlike about 97% of Australian men. But THEN she told me what he said about me, apparently he said: "Did Corinne live in America, because she has really American reactions..." Ummm I can only take this as an insult coming from a country Aussie boy but I really have no idea what it means. Then she said he asked "Isn't COLIN a guys name??" Fuckwit. AND he said "Her English is weird, it's like Japanese English..." Ummm of course it is you fucking idiot, you think I talk to your future mother-in-law for fun?? If that was so she wouldn't be paying me unless it was the next round of drinks, and I'd be saying "fuck" a whole lot. But I have to have some sympathy, he just doesn't get that teaching English in Japan is about 90% acting. And I explained to her (I don't know why I felt defensive) that of course after living and teaching in Japan for 7 years, my English has changed, if I went around speaking too fast and using the slang I would with another native speaker, I'd have no students. Learning English is about confidence, I don't want people to give up before they've even started trying.

I'm not sure why, but this has really started to annoy me, I don't even think that he was having that big of a go at me, but he just has so much of no idea, and it makes me angry, I want him to understand for some reason. Plus the cunt of a daughter just pissed me off.

Spooky season

2011-10-20T17:56:00.001+09:00

Well, it is Halloween season, but the shock I got yesterday when I got home was way more than I wanted, and I'm a thrill seeker!

As I parked my bicycle and lugged the 20kgs of whining boy off, I got some kind of chill up my spine, a sense that something wasn't quite right. It might have been the fact that the front door wasn't completely closed, or a slight sound I heard, or an instinct that kicked in. Whatever it was, I knew there was an intruder in my house.

I tentatively opened the door, I tried to do it in a stealth manner, but it's a "GARA-GARA-GARA" kind of sliding door that never seems to open smoothly, so my attempts failed. My heart started pumping harder so that I could feel the pulses in my head as the 2nd floor floorboards made a slight creak. Someone was upstairs.

I ushered Ash in to the toy haven that used to be my living room and craned my neck up the stairs, hoping my ears would pick up some kind of signal that it was the cat or my imagination, but it was unmistakeably the sound of the balcony window opening. Had they shimmied the balcony and were on their way in to rape and murder us?? I grabbed the thing closest to me, which happened to be a floor cleaner, a flurry of dust ironically spiralling up around me as I did. What was I going to do, impale a robber with the pointy end of a floor cleaner? I didn't know, but i at least wanted to be prepared.

As I started creeping my way up the stairs, I saw a shadow dart out of the way in the room from the open door, it was straight out of a fucking Stephen King novel, all I needed was for a clown to peek out from under the stairs. I kept inching my way up the stairs, clasping on to the railing so all my weight was on it, rather than the creaky stairs. I finally made it to the top and did some kind of James Bond move near the door, back flat up against it, breathing in to make myself as thin as the wall while I peered around the corner to see someone waiting for me. Sweat was trickling down between my boobs, my every sense tingling with anticipation. And then...

Fucking Grandma.

I shit you not I almost fucking throttled her with the floor cleaner anyway. Grandma has been know to come into our house uninvited (ummm hello, everyday!) but it's usually while we're there and never upstairs. This is why I was convinced it wasn't Grandma, because she can barely make it up Steep Japanese stairs like ours, I never thought she would bother going up ours voluntarily. But apparently it was a matter of life and death. Why?? Because I had the fleece blankets out drying and the sun went in. Ummmmm the blankets aren't going to fucking disintegrate woman!
I told her I thought it was an intruder and she laughed and said "Don't worry, they wouldn't make it past me!" well if my fucking blanket violation doesn't I guess she's right.

I have to get out of the dirt path ghetto one day. Sooner rather than later.

Taking one for the cake

2011-10-14T16:59:00.001+09:00

I’m sure all of you know very well by now just how much I dislike Ryota’s sister, my SIL. I’m not shy about it and the feeling is pretty much mutual and usually works in some kind of awkward arranged way. But as much as I don’t like her/thinks she’s absolutely mental/would love to get away from her, the reality of the matter is, I need her.

My son loves her, I don’t know why, well, maybe I do, she’s got the intellect of about a 2 year old, although I fear comparing them would be insulting to toddlers everywhere. She has lots of free time, so unlike most people around Ash, she’s always fair game for playing. And recently, my working hours are from 9am-8pm with a few breaks thrown in to clean and cook (not complaining, this is good for a business owner!), so Ash has been staying at Grandma’s house with dog-fucker and Grandma while I’m at work. I have to admit, if she wasn’t moping around wasting space I’d be pretty much fucked for childcare, so for that I am grateful.

Now dog-fucker doesn’t get out much and we actually have one thing in common, we love cake. So after I got out of hospital, we threw around the idea of going to a restaurant that has an all-you-can-eat cake deal. And it’s not crappy buffet-style cake, it’s good cake that you get to choose from the glass display cabinet! Of course, I was thinking we’d all go together as a family, or we’d talk about it but never actually do it, but when dog-fucker said on Wednesday night, “Soooo, cake tomorrow??” I was a little taken aback. I’d already let out the fact that I only had four lessons on Thursday in the morning and evening so I was fucked for that excuse, but the only thought running through my head was ‘Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkkkdon’twannagodon’twannagodon’twannagodon’twannagooooooo’ so I started on an excuse that was actually true, while Thursday is a quiet day lesson-wise, Friday is busy as in lessons one after the other from morning to night, with a trip to a kindergarten to get poked up the bum by some small boys too just to make my life a bit more hectic, and I needed time on Thursday to prepare those lessons. Ok, Ok, so the preparation wasn’t that hard, but still, I was imagining at least 2 hours with just dog-fucker… “What would we talk about? It will be so awkward! I’ll have to pay for her poor arse! All these things flew through my mind as her sharp little face looked at me inquisitively. It was like some kind of horrible test that would determine our relationship from here on out, was I to shut her down and ruin my chances of free child care, or take on the horrible duty of my precious leisure time spent with someone I despise in the spirit of good will and keeping the boat firmly anchored with no chance of rocking any time soon…

So I did what any coward with a tendency to panic would do, I said I’d check my work schedule and see if it was possible. Now pretty much as soon as I’d said this I’d decided I wasn’t going. I keep Thursdays clear for a reason, to wash the sheets, to do the banking, catch up on paperwork, relax! I most certainly didn’t want to waste my day with her of all people. Plus, you know, I like cake, but as the saying goes: “Nothing tastes better than being thin” and I really wasn’t that fussed to go. As I thought about all this, and what kind of mail to send her, there was a niggling image in the back of my mind, of the day I had my tonsils out and dog-fucker took the only day of work she had off (probably just because she’s lazy but still…) to come to the hospital and see me. Then of her picking up Ash every day I was in hospital… And I got the twinges of guilt… I thought she really hated me, but if she’s wanting to go eat cake with me then maybe she really wants to be friends? I’m not sure if this is true, but I sucked it up, sacrificed my day off and went to eat cake with her. For what? To ease my guilty conscience. To try and be a good person. For Ryota, it’s no fun when you’re family don’t get on with your partner.

As far as awkwardness goes, well, it wasn’t great, but sometimes you’ve got to man up and get over it to keep the wheels of life turning. I never forget anything but I’m lucky I have the ability to push things aside for a greater cause. Fuck I must have that ability, I’m still with Ryota aren’t I?!

So I leave you with some pictures from the great cake expedition, the cake was fucking amazing, but after eating 6, yes, 6! I can safely say I won’t be eating cake for a while. Dog-fucker had also been harping on about joining facebook, which is dangerous, as I’m sure I have pictures on their labeled as “dog fucker” or “cunt face” let’s hope she doesn’t get good at facebook or English anytime soon… So I brought my ipad along to show her how it works so we’d actually have something to talk about, and I shit you not, this is her profile picture, dog-fucker!

]

This is the poor fucked dog

Can't you see my strained enthusiasm?

Would you do her??

Fear of the unknown

2011-10-10T18:48:00.002+09:00

I've been thinking a lot about the fear of the unknown here in Japan recently, the very talented Loco has some great posts on the topic and it's something that I think hits pretty close to home for most foreigners living in Japan.

As far as I can see, fear of the unknown or unfamiliar is everywhere in Japan and ingrained in to the culture, the people and the attitudes here. Of course, this is a generalisation and I realise that this doesn't go for everyone, paired with the fact that I speak out of my arse quite frequently, feel free to ignore my ramblings if you wish.

I see it everywhere though. When I make exotic (and when I say 'exotic' I mean like say, Indonesian rice or Indian curry, not sheep's testicles marinated in cow's blood and seasoned with a splash of squirrel semen.)food and my in-laws instantly turn their nose up at it because it doesn't fit what they're used to. When I say something out of the ordinary 'customer-staff' spiel to a supermarket lady and a look of sheer panic crosses her face before she realises she is actually a human with a brain that can function independently. When a child is so programmed to being used to seeing and doing the same shit every day that they give me an anxious glance and feel the need to hide behind their mother's skirt and say "Oooooo outsider!"
And even though these things seem weird to a lot of people, they don't really bother me that much, mildly irritating st worst I'd say. More good food for me, more opportunities to freak out supermarket ladies with my spontaneous conversations and more chances for me to make monster faces at the kid when their mum isn't looking.

I don't really care until it becomes a problem for me, like when dog-fucker insisted I restrain myself from having an opinion on Kimutaku's sexual orientation and mental health. Then it gets annoying. Then I have to start telling people to go back in to their pit and fist fuck their dog.

But I'm noticing it in little different ways the longer I live here, the most recent. My candy stash.

Now, as you can see, there is a shitload of good choccie in here, I bought these especially from Costco because you can't find Twix in your local conbini, I run an English school, and Twix and Milky ways are, as far as I'm concerned a damn nice cultural lesson! And do you see that pathetic white shit-looking lolly on the top-left? That is a Japanese candy that someone gave me, (despite knowing I'm on one never-ending diet) any candy I am given either goes straight in to my son's gob, or straight in to the pumpkin to fatten up some other poor bastard. So there is a lot of the Costco lollies, and a few Japanese lollies scattered in there too.

And I kid you not, every single fucking kid who I offer a candy to goes for the Japanese ones first. And I couldn't see why at first, the foreign ones are better packaged, more expensive and in my opinion, much better tasting. But of course they don't usually see them in normal Japanese stores so how would they know? So I tell them, I say "I recommend a Twix, they're really good and you can't get them in Japanese stores usually!" And I found this little sales pitch for Twix were making the little buggers more determined not to try them! The would dig their pudgy little hands in deeper and deeper, probing for what was comfortable, familiar, safe. And for the first time in a long time, the need to be safe annoyed the shit out of me! I go to the trouble to get something new and different and they want to stay with what they know? Why do I bother then? The same thing happened last Halloween when I got 3 massive pumpkin pies, it wasn't normal or safe, so I ended up eating pumpkin pie until Christmas. Not that I was complaining, I love pumpkin pie, but I'm not buying the"Japanese tongues aren't suited to strong flavours" bullshit.

I think this is sometimes why I stay with Ryota, he's not typically Japanese in the safe way. He has tattoos, he hates working, he's an obnoxious arsehole. But I honestly think I'd rather all that than a safe guy. Fuck safe, we spend our lives being safe and what are we going to die with? A pension and a grave that my kids have to wash off every year?

Fuck. That.

Right in the arse.

I'm keeping the Japanese candy in for the moment for research purposes, but I may smash a pumpkin over a small child's head if I don't take it out soon.

It's in the genes...

2011-10-07T22:49:00.001+09:00

If I'm not mistaken, I posted about ash's sports day last year and it was basically the same deal. My son just marches along quite happily to his own little drum, in his own little world and doesn't give a flying fuck about the people around him.

I may have mentioned how much I despise sports days in Japan, but just in case I haven't, allow me to rant away for a moment...

Fucking robotic, useless, cunting dancing that is practiced for months in advance ensuring both child and parent alike are totally and utterly bled dry of any creativity, fun, or enjoyment that may have been involved with the whole fucking thing.

Right, glad that's out of my system!
So I hate the sports days, but being the good mummy that I am, I trudged along to the kindy to stand around for a few hours watching the kids go through the motions of the steps that they have been practicing since summer. It started off with all the kids doing some lame fucking dance and ash spied me. Most mums look down when their kid spies them, but I'm not most mums, so I gave him a thumbs up and a wave instead. He then proceeded to try and run over to me, but the watchful eye of his teacher ensured he was pulled back in to line pretty quickly. Now sneaky little bugger that he is, he learnt if he made a dash, that some Japanese lady was going to be on to him, so he weaved and ducked and blended in with every other little kid, until he'd managed to inch his way over to me and was hugging my leg. All the mums around me gave an "awwwwww" but underneath the sounds of endearment I knew there was some woman thinking " ooooooo that kid is unruly, he doesn't follow the rules..."
After a few minutes I gave his teacher a pleading look and she came and collected him, he wasn't crying or anything, he was actually giggling as he was led away.

So next was his class' turn to do their little bit and I shit you not he would not do a single thing the other kids did. And it wasn't in a crying and screaming way. He was quite happy with himself, but totally independent and very contented to do his own thing. He was in the 'pig group' yet when the 'rabbit' group had to go fake shopping, ash was right there with them. The teacher actually said over the loud speaker " oh, Ashton is here too, oh well, he's here now..." just so all the mums would look at me again with the knowing smiles, not like I can hide being the only foreign around with her almost as foreign, unruly son!

Finally, was the running race, and ash didn't disappoint, instead of lining up with all the other kids and them all running together, as soon as his name was called, he was off, running down the yard as the whole freaking kindy laughed at him bounding over the finish line while the rest of the kids were still waiting at the starting line.

And I got to thinking, does this make me:

A) a bad parent?
B) a good parent?
C) responsible for the genetic encoding that my son has inherited meaning he will never just fall in to line like a little j-lemming?

Anyway, after ash had finished and I had been standing in the sun for over 2 hours without any breakfast and intense pain in my throat, I proceeded to... faint! Luckily for me I made it inside and collapsed against a wall of towels and woke up in a tatami room wondering where my shoes had gone. Highly embarrassing but at least only the teachers witnessed my dramatics, if it had been outside I would have had all the kindy mums gasping in shock and revelling in the excitement while dialling ambulances on their mobiles.

All I can say is, fuck you sports day, I'm so boycotting next year!

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Sleeping confessions.

2011-10-02T10:18:00.001+09:00

Or not sleeping as the case may be.

I've had trouble falling asleep for as long as I can remember, once I'm out I'm out for the count but falling asleep can be a bastard for me. My parents almost sent me to therapy when I was a kid because I used to sit up chewing the hat of my Teddy bear and worrying myself in to a frenzy about things so much that I couldn't sleep. Fucking loon I was as a child.

Of course once I had a child, that whole not falling asleep problem solved itself in the form of me being so exhausted that I was pretty much asleep any chance I got. And recently although I'm exhausted, I'm also pretty content with my life. Yes, Ryota is an arse that fucks me off on a regular basis, but honestly, I'm not losing any sleep over him. Toilet crying-yes. The occasional weep before sleep-yes. Insomnia-just not fucking worth it! That's one of the things that scare me about my marriage, the fact that it will probably end at some point in the near future really doesn't bother me that much!

But this week, I've had trouble sleeping, the first few nights was because of the pain, but these last few nights have been out of sheer boredom and the fact that I'm using no energy in the day so I'm just not buggered like I usually am running around after a 2 year old and working. It also has something to do with the fact that I'm a giant, and Japanese people are fucking hobbits so this combination means that my feet stick out the end of my bastard bed and end up wedged between the hard metal bits.

So last night, after my eyes going funny because of too many hours of sex and the city and the sopranos, I tried to remember back to what I used to do to fall asleep. When I was really young, I used to count sheep, but I always lost count, not out of sleepiness but out of boredom, then I'd get frustrated with myself and the whole 'relaxation' thing would be out the window. Then when I was a little bit older I used to recite my times tables, because I was shit at maths and it stimulated my brain enough for me to stick at it. Then when I was old enough to have a mobile phone, I played snake, that simple and horribly addictive game that nokia mobiles used to have. And recently, it's the good old iPhone, although sleeping with a small child and grumpy cunt of a man-boy,the bright screen can become an issue.

So I have a confession to make, sometimes to fall asleep, I imagine being loved. Not by Ryota, not by a hot, naked Clive Owen (although, don't mind if I do...) or any man in particular, just someone who wraps me up and makes me feel safe and loved. It isn't a sexual fantasy, it's the fantasy that you get from watching too much Hollywood rubbish on tv, that there's a man or woman out there who has the ability to hold you and make you feel so safe that you revert back to being a little baby and falling asleep in their arms totally contented. Isn't that ridiculous?! Now I'm embarrassed and contemplating deleting...

Am I so starved for attention that I can simply imagine being loved and that makes me content enough to fall asleep? Really? Or maybe I do just watch too much tv, is this a fantasy every girl has? Nobody's actually living the dream are they? Are you?

Last night as I started hugging my pillow and imagining my mystery man loving me, I realized how funny it actually was!

Ok, I have to hit publish now or I'll chicken out.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

It's taken longer than I thought...

2011-10-01T10:16:00.001+09:00

But this morning I got annoyed with the Japanese way of doing things. As I always mention, service in Japan is second to none. Fucking fantastic. But the flip side means that everything is done with such precision that often this leads to not only great service, but also a lot of fucking around, paperwork, rule following and a way of doing things that can make you want to scratch your eyes out. And depending on your situation it can get very very frustrating.

My throat is much better than it was, I can now talk, drink anything and eat soft foods. I'm off the drip (that was probably unnecessary in the first place) and I feel fine. No infection, I'm gargling 5 times a day and eating sloppy fucking rice in the hope that I will get better soon so I can get back to my normal life. I want to work, and see my son, and go running and get back to dance class. I want to get back to my fucking life. In Australia and a lot of other countries getting your tonsils out is a one day procedure, one night stay at the most. A week in hospital seems excessive, but I was glad, one night wouldn't have been enough, especially taking in to consideration that I live with 2 big babies.

I also haven't been able to have a shower, which isn't that big of a deal but my legs are starting to look like a hairy monster (perhaps I should just keep them for Halloween?) and my hair is getting greasy and sweaty and gross. A shower is not going to fucking kill me.

So this morning when I went to see the doctor, I asked when I could get a shower and she said today but only from the neck down. This solves the hairy legs but not the greasy hair, I think I might just rebel and wash my hair anyway though. I then asked her when she thought I might be able to go home. And she said fucking Wednesday! It just seems like such a long time, especially seeing as though I feel fine, everything has gone totally smoothly, they check my fever and blood pressure 50 times a day and it's always fine. I'm eating everything plus pudding and ice cream and loads of crap that people bring me, I'm walking up and down 4 flights of stairs about 10 times a day to fight off boredom and losing the muscles in my legs. I need to get outside!!!!

Has anyone in Japan ever put their foot down and just fucked off home?

I almost cried when she told me but I'm going to try really hard for Monday. I have to work on Tuesday anyway so there's no way I'm staying here longer than I have to.

I feel a fight brewing. One good thing about Ryota being an arsehole, his arsehole-ness transfers to situations when I need it and I'm sure he'll be able to convince someone better than I can that I AM going home on Monday.

Funny, I'm the exact opposite to earwig, she wanted to stay!

Right off to the stair master so I don't go cunning insane!

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One for all you Ryota haters...

2011-09-30T12:11:00.001+09:00

It was bound to happen, Ryota has made me cry, even when we only spend 2 hours a day together!

I get that this week is hard on him too, but not fucking really. He hasn't dropped off or picked up ash from kindy any day this week, taken two and a half days off work, not cooked a single meal (including breakfast) and has no doubt left the house in a mess. How hard is it when you have a house full of women next door doing everything for you??

So, the crying incident. THE DAY of my operation too! I came out of surgery all groggy and not being able to talk, and Ryota had just got there because he'd gone running, so he sits there and after about 20 minutes said "Can I go home? I'm bored..." but fair play, there was nothing he could do and I just felt guilty with him sitting there doing nothing anyway. So he comes back in the evening with the rest of his family and I realized that my portable Internet thingy is missing part of the plug that charges it. I was still kind of drugged up but thought it was probably still in the power board at the school and that I just needed the extra bit. I'd asked mil earlier in the day to go have a look for it but she couldn't find it so I was getting worried it was lost somewhere else. I hadn't told Ryota yet, because I knew he would be angry with me, and sure enough, when he discovered that it was missing he went off on a rant of "I can't believe how stupid you are! The whole point of the Internet was so you could use your pad in hospital! No we'll have to buy a whole new one, they don't just sell them by themselves!" now I had many protests I wanted to voice at this point, but I literally, physically couldn't, so I started to cry, in pain and frustration and annoyance at his thoughtlessness. I should give dog-fucker credit here too, because mid-rant she actually told him to shut up and stop ding a wanker and that she would look for it the next day. It's seriously the most I've ever felt any good feelings toward do fucker.

He sent a lame apology mail later saying he was tired and this week was really hard. Uh huh.
The next incident came last night. Ash has been quite good at night apparently, but last night he must have had an upset stomach because he was crying until quite late, so I get this mail from Ryota...

At 11:30 last night, with no extra info apart from "I'm sleepy..." did he not know that would worry me?? And like I can fuckin do anything about it anyway???
Lucky for me (and him) I was drugged and sleeping by 11, but fuck, what is wrong with him?!?!

Divorce plans are moving steadily ahead.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Hey

2011-09-30T09:30:00.001+09:00

If I'm going to be in pain, and in my pajamas for a week, and surrounded by old ladies with saggy tits...

At least I can look slightly hot! Broke out the make-up much to everyone's shock. "but you're sick!!!!" Who says that being sick means you have to look like you're already dead!? Ok I've definitely been watching too much sex and the city, next I'll be strutting up the halls in 6 inch heels!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Poor old earwig

2011-09-29T16:51:00.001+09:00

Earwig has officially been released from our room and promptly replaced by two young, fragile little things resembling underfed deer. I don't know how old these girls are but way too old to be hiding behind their mummy's skirts (almost literally!). But still, I probably only say that because my mum isn't here for me to hide behind!

Earwig continued to listen to every word that was uttered from behind her curtain but the thing that became more and more interesting was how much the hospital staff, both nurses and doctors alike, hated her! I find that the usual way in Japan to show contempt is to slap on a fake smile, utter the right phrase depending on the situation, then bitch about the situation later. Nope, not with earwig, it was so very obvious that she was a huge pain in the arse for all she came in contact with. And I can kind of understand, she was a big fan of the nurse bell, I swear she rang it every time she farted! I on the other hand am the opposite. I hate ringing the bell, even when I'm in a lot of pain, I am getting better at it though.

So earwig was supposed to be released this morning, but pleaded with the doctors and nurses to let her be released after lunch. At first they all just told her it was impossible, and that she had to have her arse out by morning, but she wasn't having it, and kept going on and on until finally a nurse cracked and called admin to see if it could be done. The nurse was still on the phone when she asked earwig why it was absolutely necessary to be released after lunch and she replied: " I have no family to pick me up so it's easier to get home at lunch time..." I don't know how true this is, it wasn't like she was going to be leaving at 6am or anything, but I felt sorry for her then, and I had noticed that nobody had come to see the poor dear, unlike me...

Since I've been here I've had mil, dog-fucker, Ryota, Ashton, fil, aunty and uncle in-law (who came with a little money envelope, score!) here to see me at various times. The nurses were surprised that I had so many visitors even though my family were obviously in Australia. I felt lucky, for a few seconds. And then I remembered have to go back to living with the bastards next week...
Still, I'd be so bored and lonely if no bastard came to see me.

Earwig finally got the go ahead to go home after lunch but the nurses just kept talking to her like she just wanted to score an extra meal, I don't know, maybe she did? But she kept asking them for pain medicine every single hour and they just kept telling her "no fucking suck it up, you had a tooth removed!" I think earwig got drug jealousy when they came to my bed offering to shove painkillers up my arse. Dear god I've never been so willing to have my anal cavity invaded, I had my pants down and bare bum out and ready before she'd even got the lovely little bullet out of it's wrapping!

Earwig also gave me a bizarre goodbye in the hallway and said "say goodbye to ash-kun for me!" one this normally wouldn't be so weird, but shed had her curtain closed the whole time ash was here, they were never introduced, she must have been peeking through the curtain and then memorized his name, which is not easy for Japanese people being a foreign name and all. Still, I felt really sorry for her, seeing ash has been the highlight of my days here. Shame she didn't have anyone to come see her.

Ok, I'm about to get another iv of god knows what, I'm hoping pain killers so I best be a good patient and stop blogging while they do it. Will blog the actual operation ordeal when I'm drugged up!

Check out my blood filled iv, gross!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

And I'm in!

2011-09-27T13:13:00.001+09:00

Will have to blog pictures from my phone but I'm in!

Mil came with me (I thank the lord dog fucker didn't want to tag along and still had her lazy arse in bed when we left!) to get settled in and now I'm just, well, bored... Hence the blogging. Expect a lot of this I think.

I've already met an interesting character, I'm going to call her earwig lady, my roommate is fucking scary. Old enough to not give a fuck about a foreigner being her roommate but not old enough to be a nice old lady. She whips her curtain back and forth with an edge of distain and when I introduced myself and did the yoroshiku onegaishimas's (I'll be cashing those in later when the noisy child gets here!) she just nodded and whipped her curtain. May as well have just pissed on it to show her territory! Still, I shouldn't be too harsh, she may have been here for that long that a new roommate isn't a big deal. And if she was a chatter I'd be even more pissed off.
But even more scary was the way that she was obviously listening to EVERY word mil and I said from behind her curtain. We were using our hushed hospital voices and talking about visiting hours when from behind the curtain, earwig lady said "until 8!!" in a very matter-of-fact-way, the words hurtling out of her mouth like a weapon. After lunch the same thing happened, we were looking at menu choices ( which is pretty much just rice porridge for me) when she said "YOU HAVE TO TELL THEM A DAY IN ADVANCE IF YOU DON'T LIKE SOMETHING!" this was random and really bad because it made mil and I go in to silent laughing fits trying not to make any noise. I'm sure old earwig will give me lots to blog about too...

I've had all the usual "you're Japanese is so good, I was really worried when I saw a foreign was coming in!" from all the nurses, met with the anesthesiologist who assured me I'd be out of it from the time the happy gas went on, and I have to share a bath with 2 old ladies at 2 in the afternoon, but all in all, things are going smoothly. I also get lovely sleeping pills tonight to send me off to dream/drug land!

Photos to come...

Day 1

2011-09-27T09:21:00.001+09:00

Well, operation operation is officially starting today!

I'm getting ready to leave the house now and go into hospital. From 10 fucking am, which is bizarre, because I'm not getting operated on until 1pm tomorrow. Who knows what I'm going to do with myself for over 24 hours... Chat with old ladies and have nurses ask me if I speak Japanese 50 million times no doubt.

I'm prepared though, I have 20 DVDs, including season 6 of sex and the city, my iPad, and all the books I've been wanting to read but haven't had time in the last 2 years. So if I'm in pain at least I'll be entertained and in pain...

Ok must do the last load of washing for a week then get my arse to the hospital, will blog later tonight no doubt!

What this weekend has taught me!

2011-09-19T18:43:00.000+09:00

1) Ipads and beer and blogging = no mixy!
No ,not really, I was pissed, but not that pissed. It was kind of fun writing EXACTLY what was going on in the moment!

2) Whining makes me feel like a big baby afterwards.
My problems are fucking minuscule compared to others, so whinging is good to cleanse the soul and all, but I really should just give myself an uppercut and move on with life instead of being a big moaning fuckwit.

3) I HATE my father-in-law when he's drunk.
He sways and spits and makes derogatory comments about my family and then tries to fucking come on to my mum. I almost fucking vomited all over his white carpet. I don't love him when he's sober but really don't like him when he's pissed!

4) Comments make me wee a little bit with appreciation and excitement!
OK, gross, not really. But thank you for all the lovely comments of advice, support, comfort and the rest!

5) Drunken blogging doesn't change my position.
I thought that I might not feel the same way the next morning, but I still do. Not as strong and not as hate filled, but still there. Although you know when you drink and get all emotional, then after the emotional stage comes the philosophical stage?? I got to thinking, maybe all married people fucking hate each other, and a successful marriage is just tolerating the other person, or finding a way to block out how much you actually can't stand them...? Maybe I have an unrealistic view of what a marriage should be and should just stick with it, get a hobby, possibly a boyfriend, and go on with my life...?

All things to ponder! One good thing did happen at the BBQ among all the shit things, it's a fantastic twist of karma-laced fate and it makes me smile just thinking about it. Will have to wait till tomorrow when I have a break from filling young minds with English though!

Right...

2011-09-18T16:55:00.001+09:00

Didn't get round to bloggging after dancing and I'm now pissed as a fuckin knit after a fair few massive glasses of beer that my fucking father in law keeps feeding me. I don't fucking want to be at his house drinking his beer (ok maybe I do a bit)... But I'd rather be with MY family, on MY terms, speaking MY fucking language.Anyway, bottom line is- I'm drunk. So we'll see how it goes...But basically, I'm hatching a plan to leave my husband. There I fuckin said it. Damn you alcohol and your ability to bring out the truth! I'm estimating about a year from now, when I've syphoned off enough money in case shit goes bad and worked out just how I will survive on my own. I can't live with him anymore.Yesterday basically kicked off when I started a fight. And it was my fault. And I took the repercussions because I was a bitch about it. But I should be able to be a bitch sometimes, he's always a fucking arsehole to me and I don't get the fucking luxury of being angry. God I just want to cry but I'm sitting here in front of everyone skulling beer and thinking about going to the toilet and crying.He hates me. Why would I stay with someone who hates me? Who never shows me he loves me? Who only wants me around to bring me down? I'd rather live alone.I hate it here. I'm suffocating.Now he's fucking insulting my family.I hate it here. Wait did I already write that...?

My husband...

2011-09-17T19:08:00.001+09:00

Is a fucking arsehole. That's all. Actually, it's not, I plan to do much more bitching when I get home from dancing!

Operation: operation....

2011-09-13T15:24:00.002+09:00

I'm getting my tonsils out this month, after about 10 bouts of tonsillitis this year it really is a necessary evil, although I'm extremely nervous about all elements of me being in hospital for a week.

The most worrying: my household falling apart! Funny how the thought of leaving Ash and Ryota alone for a week is way more stressful that my throat being hacked at and bleeding profusely for a few days. In saying that, I'm sure that mil and grandma will come swooping in and do pretty much everything for their precious chonan, I'm kinda hoping they don't though, then the bastard might appreciate me a bit more!

I should give my usually-a-fuckface-but-sometimes-alright husband a bit of a mention though, he planned to buy me an ipad2 for when I went in to hospital so I wouldn't be bored. Awwwwwwww. Of course I foiled his well laid plans by having the same idea and then just going and buying it. But he did fuck around in a rush to make sure I had a portable wi-fi thingy so I can use it anywhere. See, he can be sweet sometimes!

I also thought that since I'll be in hospital for a week I may as we ll blog it, so it is my promise that I will blog every day I'm there, even if it is a drugged up one word post! I'm sure there will be tales of dopey nurses, hot doctors (ooooooo a girl can dream!), old women commenting on the size of my tits and all kinds of hospital stories! I'm actually looking forward to it in that sense, I've never had the extended Japanese hospital stay.

I'm wondering who will come visit me too, god imagine if the dog-fucker comes and I have to sit talking to her with no escape for an extended period of time, anything over 10 minutes and I think I'll be begging the nurse for a morphine overdose. It will be interesting to see if Grandma makes the trek too...

Ok must go work, I'm sorry for the lack of blogging, but I'm so busy at the school that I barely have time to do anything, ipad2 is bound to get my lazy arse writing again I'm hoping!

Beat

2011-09-05T19:00:00.001+09:00

Defeated. Failed. Out. Down. Done.

Those words pretty much sum up my feelings right now!
Wow, I’m going for gold with the whiny, depressing posts lately, must insert cute photos to brighten this one up too!

So.

The most recent episode that leads me to believe I want to get as far away from the person I share a life with, all has to do with our car… shaken.. registration?? That thingy where someone checks the car to see if it still works and then gives you a piece of paper that says this. You know what I mean.
The last sentence actually demonstrates my point very well: I know NOTHING and don’t really want to know anything, about cars. I can drive one, I like pretty ones, big ones scare me… That’s pretty much as far as my knowledge of cars goes, call me old fashioned but cars are for males, (although I do know how to put water and oil in and pump up the tires, so not totally useless.) So when we forgot to get our little car done, (it’s every 2 years in Japan) it was left up to me to take it in, walk home in the blazing heat, approve any shit that needed fixing, walk back in the fucking heat to get the damn thing, pay, and drive home. Sounds relatively simple, except this was not in my first language, plus car language is totally foreign to me anyway, so it was in my 3rd language!

I’m not a total idiot, (despite what Ryota has to say on the matter) so when the little car shop man called me up and in extremely fast and difficult Japanese tried to flog me a new battery and brake pads, I told him I didn’t need anything that wasn’t essential to passing the car checky thingy. I actually said to him “My husband will be angry with me if I get anything non-essential!” Which shows just how much of a fucking arse Ryota is, I knew he’d be pissed even before he’d started yelling at me!
I was proud of myself as I’m actually a sucker for a good sales pitch even when it’s not in my first language and anyone who lives in a country where the language isn’t their own, will attest to that marvelous tactic of just agreeing even when you don’t understand what someone is saying so you can get the fuck out of that conversation quick smart. So all things considered, I think I did well.

Fast forward to 6pm when my darling husband comes home and demands a report on the car. How much did it cost? What did they do? Did they fix the noise?
No ‘thanks for doing that’ mind you, just the questions. So I answered all calmly as I fixed the fucker’s dinner and all was fine until we got to the part where I said “Oh yeah and they changed the oil and the element…”
You would have thought that I’d just told him I was a war criminal the way he reacted seriously, it can’t be described, but he basically said, “Oh my god how could you be so fucking stupid, we didn’t need the oil changing!” And it wasn’t just a side comment, it was a big fucking deal, he was ready to get in to a big fight over it. But I didn’t bite, I just crumbled. Folded under the sheer weight of disappointment and sadness and the feeling that I will always be a failure in his eyes no matter how hard I tried. And so I cried, big, fat tears ran down my face until I just put my head in my hands and sobbed. This of course made him more angry and he started on a rant about crying under pressure and not doing anything right. I had to get away from him so I took the opportunity to go and get Ash who was making his way out the door in my shoes flip flopping around saying “outside!” As I went outside and the cool air hit my face, he looked up at me with that little worried look and said “Mummy?” because he knew I was crying, so I scooped him up and he gave me a big cuddle. It was at this point that both Grandma and Ryota came outside, Grandma to see who was crying uncontrollably, and Ryota to tell me to get inside and stop embarrassing myself/him. Grandma asked him why I was crying and he said “I’m angry because she fucked up the car check!”
I was quite prepared then for Grandma to either make a sucking noise with her teeth and ignore us, or take his side, but huge respect to Grandma, because fuck me she took mine. I believe she said “You idiot why are you angry over something so small as a car check!? Do it yourself next time, it’s not a woman’s job anyway!”
And fuck me she said it better than I ever could have. I later learned that after she found out that it was only the oil change (about 2000 yen) that he was so worked up about she told Ryota that he needed to check-in to the mental hospital if he gets angry at something so tiny.

The next day Ryota apologized and said that he didn’t know why he was getting angry so easily, maybe because of quitting smoking. But you know what, that excuse just doesn’t cut it every single time, he was the dumb fuck who was stupid enough to start sucking on cancer sticks in the first place, why should I have to deal with the consequences of him quitting??

This was last week and he’s been quite nice to me since. This doesn’t help me to forget though.

Ripped off

2011-08-29T16:58:00.003+09:00

As the Bad Boy has been shaking his fist at all along, and as Kathryn has shown us recently, yes, Japan is pretty safe compared to a back alley of Cabramatta. No, it is not the safest place on earth.
The sad fact is, there will always be cunts, in every corner of the earth. You know the types, the low-life fucks who don’t have the balls to pull themselves together and make their own money so they decide to just leech and steal and take advantage of the rest of society, draining the system, little old ladies out of the savings under their mattress, and poor innocent bastards like myself. Well, almost, but not quite.

It may not happen in the conventional ‘pull a gun and give me your money bitch!’ way, but in this lovely passive aggressive little Japanese bubble we live in, there are plenty of ways to get ripped off, one quite close to my heart- credit card theft!
Imagine my surprise the day after we got back from Australia and my card was declined as I was buying lego for my son (OK, for me, but don’t tell anyone else)! I flushed a shade of pink at the sheer embarrassment until I realized that I had no reason to be, I hadn’t used the credit card once during our holiday, I was itching to get swiping again! As per the impeccable service in Japan, rather than a blank look and shrug of the shoulders as it would happen in Australia, the lady serving me apologized profusely and said in a loud enough voice that it was probably a problem with the system, not our card and would call the credit card company straight away to see what was wrong. Fuck I love the service in Japan.

It was at this point that Ryota just casually mentioned that our credit card company had tried to call him while we were away, but we still didn’t click that anything was really wrong until the lego lady gave the phone to Ryota and he went a shade of white and said “How much!?” and mouthed the word ‘fuck!!!’ to me.
Turns out that someone had gone on a bit of a spending spree on our card to the tune of, oh, not that much, only over a million fucking yen!!! In dollars it was $4000 a pop and they did that 3 times so about 12 grand later and they seemed satisfied. Now it just goes to show that being a poor bastard works in your favour though, the card company said that this kind of purchase was not within our ‘normal spending patter’ which is a nice was of saying that we don’t have enough cash to usually buy anything over about $100, but fuck I’ll take it, it means that they cancelled our card straight away, even though they couldn’t contact us.

Now I’m not sure if our thief was really thick, or really smart but they bought airline tickets, and I would assume that a $4000 ticket would be overseas… meaning they have to show their passport and could easily be caught, no??
But it was with ANA so maybe they just went on a round-Japan trip on a fake name and are lying on a beach in Okinawa right now not having spent a cent on the ticket to get there? Who knows, but that matter was out of our hands as the loser was ANA and they have to follow it up with the police, but still I’m not sure if Grandma handling my knickers, or some slimy cunt ripping off my credit card made me feel more violated. About even perhaps.

We think they might have hacked our whole computer as well because they charged the card the day after we left which is way too much of a coincidence for my liking, so email, password and virus security upgrades are all being seen to, pain in the arse but when fuckers like this are still wasting the good air that us normal folk breathe it really is a necessary evil.

Whoever did this was probably Japanese (the words of the credit card company, not me), but Ryota still assured me that it was probably a Chinese person living in Japan to rip off Japanese people…

And again, away from the nasty and ridiculous, for your viewing pleasure, some more photos!

Hands off my undies...

2011-08-25T20:53:00.001+09:00

Bitch!

The bitch I’m referring to? An 83 year old Japanese woman who I happen to have been saddled with!

So we got back from Australia on Tuesday night and I have to say, it’s fucking shite to be home. This is the first trip where I really haven’t felt good to be back in Japan (although the heat thing still stands, I’ll take humid and sweaty over cold and dry skin any day!). Usually I feel a great sense of relief when I come back to Japan but not this time. All I felt was that I wanted to go back to Australia, the land of grass, beautiful beaches not crowded with dumb fucks who can’t swim sporting fucking floaties (Ooo harsh!), fish and chips, supermarkets that aren’t crowded with fish encrusted shit and… the list could go on.

I’ve realized that things are way more predictable in Japan and there is a part of me that likes this, but then I think more of me likes a bit of variety. It’s hard to explain, but for example, people. People in Japan are generally predictable in behavior: Normal until proven nice. Does that even make sense?? Of course I’m ruling out complete whack jobs like dog-fucker, but generally you know how people are going to act in Japan. Where as in Australia: No fucking idea. Good examples, I went in to a liquor store on the day of my friend’s wedding, (as you do at 9:30am) we all had hair done and my friend already had her veil on, so you think the store clerk may have said something, “congrats” perhaps or “good luck,” you know, something that would make us feel less weird for buying bottles of champers at brekky time with hair nets on! But no, solemn face, must have had her rags or something, not a word!
Then… on the other hand, the day we were leaving I went to a bakery to buy cakes for all my family as a little goodbye token, the guy behind the counter heard me speaking Japanese, got told our life story and not only wished us a safe trip home, but threw in 2 free meat pies and rounded the price down 2 dollars because I didn’t have any change. That would NEVER happen in Japan, not in a city anyway.

But back to my fucking in-laws. They have been a MAJOR contributing factor to the bitterness I’m feeling about being back in Japan. For a start, BIL and SIL met us at the airport, 2 people I really don’t like, so not a great start. They then informed us that they had no money for parking or petrol and that they hadn’t had any dinner, not that this is their fault, I was grateful for them coming to pick us up, but it just made me angry that they both have no job/life. Then, we get home and they are all just chattering away in Japanese and it just fucked me off. OK, totally MY hang-up here, we are in Japan after all, but after a week of English, they all just sounded horrible to me, I could see the English Ash had picked up just draining away. The dog-fucker then started speaking fucking awful English to him when I mentioned how sad I was he was going to forget the English he’d learned until I snapped at her to not bother, I didn’t want him learning that type of pronunciation.
MIL was nowhere to be seen, we assumed she was still at work, until the next day when we went to go shopping and discovered that she was still not home and had taken our car (her air-con is broken). Great, shopping in the 30 degree heat with no air-con because MIL claimed she was working but I think she’s actually shagging. I like MIL but I really wish she would think about this kind of shit more, Ash didn't sleep at all because he was too hot. She’s still not back after 3 days away and I’m getting fucking pissed off as I want to do a Costco run and her phone has no battery. Also just discovered that even if I were to brave the car with no air-con, BIL or SIL (can’t be bothered to check which one isn’t sleeping) has fucked off in that car so can’t go anywhere anyway. Mother-fuckers!!!!

And finally, Grandma. Oh Grandma, I feel sorry for her in a way, while her 2 youngest grand-children are sleeping or wanking off their dog or whatever, she is sweating like a bastard putting out all their washing. It fucking disgusts me how much she still does around their house while those 2 lazy cunts waste the air they breathe, but it occurred to me that perhaps doing the washing is what keeps the old bird going, she seems to like doing it! Why do I know this? Because she meddled with my washing while I was away!
OK, I say meddled, she actually did a big load for me, which was nice. I thanked her and admittedly, it was a big help, we’d accumulated a heap of dirty washing just before we left including Ash’s kindy sheets, so even though she didn’t ask me if I wanted it doing or anything, I was happy.
Emphasis on the word ‘was.’ When I discovered the washing on the sofa I was pleased, yet it felt kind of weird that Grandma had been handling my undies and stuff… Then, I go upstairs to discover that my washing lines on the veranda have ever so slightly been shuffled around a bit, just a little mind you, but enough so that those of us that don’t resemble hobbits smack their head on the pole… The mysterious appearance of foreign pegs… And finally, my washing powder had been changed.. Err… what the fuck? Grandma wasn’t shy in telling me that I had in fact been doing everything wrong in the washing department and she had taken the liberty of making all the necessary changes. Well thanks Grandma, but fuck you! I really don’t need another fucking busy body criticizing my house keeping efforts or lack thereof.

Fuck knows I get enough of that from her Grandson!

On a happier note… here are some lovely photos from my lovely trip home!

Greeting and salutations!

2011-08-20T00:11:00.002+09:00

Yes! It's the obligatory post from Australia!

We arrived here on Wednesday and since then I've managed to eat:

Hungry Jacks (twice)
Chinese (Aussie style- no gyoza- boo!)
McDonalds
Hogs breath
Fish and chips
And a whole lot of other bad crap

It really is no wonder most people here are walking heart attacks, I love it!

Things have been quite good, although Ryota has managed to piss me off quite frequently because he feels 'left out of conversations' or 'has to spend awkward silences with my family'. Whinge, whinge fucking whinge, welcome to my life 51 weeks of the cunting year you big pussy!

Ash is having a blast with things like real grass and space to move and shit.

I miss Japanese customer service, warmed toilet seats and store opening hours.

It is FUCKING freezing, give me humid Japanese summers over this any day, hating it!

Right, wedding is tomorrow so I best go get my beauty sleep if I am to be a good bridesmaid with no bags under her eyes, let's just hope the dress still fits...

Woah! Boobs!

2011-08-13T18:50:00.004+09:00

Just call me the absent blogger!

I could make loads of excuses as to why I've been missing in action, like;

*A crazy work schedule.
*Getting ready for my trip home *does a ridiculously happy dance*
*Countless hours spent in the toilet sobbing due to twat of a husband.
*It's too bastard hot to be arsed typing.
*Cramming in extra lessons in to make up for my holiday...

But let's be honest, it's pretty much just because I'm lazy!

I've lost my blogging mojo a bit so may have to make September a one a day blog fest to get me back in the rythm...

I did have one funny experience the other day, I got a booby fitting for the first time in Japan! To be honest, I hate booby fittings in any country, let's face it, being crammed in to a tiny cubicle and stripping off for a lady to measure and push and pull your boobies in to bras is not the best thing in the world. Well, if I was a lesbian and the sales girl was hot... OK, sidetracking!

I'd attempted to pluck up the courage to get a fitting when I was in Osaka the week before but I was just with Ryota and men are useless at normal shopping, let alone lady bits shopping. Still, we wandered in to the lingerie shop, bewildered by the sea of frilly bras, lacy panties and all the contraptions that came with them. All I knew is that I wanted to know my correct size (so I could just go buy cheaper bras on the Internet) and I wanted to buy one good, supportive, comfy, push-up bra that would make my saggy, sad little fried eggs look like Pamela Anderson had a shit rack. OK, not quite, but if I am to be a bridesmaid, I want perky boobies at least! I hesitantly approached the sales girl and instantly named her "bunny girl" in my head.
She was the typical J sales girl, young, "cute" in the Japanese way, and with lots of accessories and big hair. I called her bunny girl because her big hair was arranged in a way that made her look like she had two ears and she also had buck teeth. Harsh but true people! I almost expected a fluffy little tail when she turned around! So I approached bunny girl and told her I needed a push-up bra, they really arent that hard to find in Japan seeing as though J-girls have generally pretty small boobs, but just in case she thought I wanted to minimise or something. I was too embarrassed to ask for a fitting so Ryota was like, "She doesn't know her size, can you measure her?" straight up, no hesitation. She bounced off to get her tape measure and invited me in to the torture chamber fitting room, I was sweating profusely which didn't help either, I then had a mini panic attack that she'd put one of her paws on a stray trickle of sweat!
But due to her incompetence it actually wasn' that bad, for one I didn't have to get naked, she did it over my clothes, which is why she was so wrong with her measurements. After much pulling of measuring tape and squishing of boob, she proudly announced through her bunny buck teeth: "75-F desu!"

Errr... Hold the phone bunny-chan, I wasn't even close to an F cup when I was fatter, what the fuck!?

I was pissed off with how off the mark she was, and then she didn't even bother to go get me any bras to try, so no sales bunny of the month for her. Still, I was uncomfortable with the situation anyway and was kind of relieved to get out of there.
I then asked MIL if she knew any good shops where I could get a fitting and we ended up going the next afternoon to the local shopping mall where my nightmare visions were actually put to rest!

I was reluctant again but my MIL is very pushy and told me not to be so stupid, the staff were trained to do booby fittings and I had nothing to be embarrassed about, and rightly so. So I manned the fuck up and approached a sales lady, probably in her late 30's if i had to guess. The late 30's bracket is the most comfortable for me, may be a working mother/wife so has something in common with me but not old enough to be my mother so not intimidating. She was perfect! Well, except she had really bad breathe, but I'll forgive her for that.
She also took my measurements over my clothes but prodded and pushed at my bra and adjusted her measurements accordingly and came to the conclusion I was in fact closer to a 75-C or D. Now that sounds more like it!
She brought me a mountain of bras to try on, telling me the ones she thought were best for me to try first, then amazingly, turned the tiny cubicle in to a spacious haven by pulling a secret curtain out and opening a hidden door. Not sure how it all worked but I liked it! She left me alone as I tried the first bra on and then asked if she could come in, when she did I noticed she had little white gloves on, I thought it may have been to handle the expensive bras but I think it was more for the hands-on booby touching that was to take place. She gave a quick "Shittsureishimaaasu!" ("Excuse me {for the manhandling of your tits that is about to take place}) and she was in there! Explaining how I needed to bend over so all my boobage spilled in to the cups, then got her hands in the pushing my bust in to the bra so the full effects could be seen, then one last push of the little bits of boob that tend to spill out near the arm pit and I was perky! It was quite amazing actually, the bra fit perfectly and we went through the same motions for all the others too.

A slinky set, practical bra and $150 later and I was out of there feeling very confident seeing as though I 'd just been groped by a small Japanese lady for 20 minutes!

Thank you so much GW!

2011-08-04T15:14:00.002+09:00

DING! DING! DING!

2011-08-01T15:57:00.003+09:00

Annnnnndddddd, we have a winner ladies and gentleman!!!

For almost as long as I’ve been blogging, I’ve always said I’m a teeny bit jealous of people with haters, it means you’ve really made it, and now, excuse me while a wipe a little tear of sheer pride away, I have one!!

Since your buddy Chrissy the "badboy" has blocked me (but can't get me off of his mind, such as it is), I thought I'd address your comment here in your charming little blog.

Corrine: You note that I am "ageing" (I am told by the google that spelling is British. I'm used to seeing "aging").

Anyway: Do you imagine that dull-witted Ocker harpies don't age?

And dearie: Now that I've seen you, I'll be looking for you for that little discussion, in which you share your deep insights on Japanese business, as you've gather from your stint at the Happy Flower English Academy or whatever the fuck it was: After all, my physical well being depends on it!

And I'm just loving your prose style! You are "sure" that someone is "obviously" something? Literary gold!

And what's this with you and ChrissyB the Batboy imagining that a sane individual would want to seek either of you out for in-person interaction? It's a safe bet that most everyone that has to deal with you IRL looks about for a way out of it
before hand.

I think getting knocked up and married was the best career move you've ever made. But the poor guy: hope your hubby has found someone to fuck who isn't ridiculous!

Be sure to stay fucking stupid!

Cheers,
Semiautodidact

It’s all I could ever have asked for in a hater and more! I think the bare essential credential is that the hater is clearly a douche, and my little trolly definitely fits that description, with the added bonus of being an obnoxious grammar Nazi who then makes grammar mistakes himself (see: Incorrect spelling of my name, “as you’ve gather from your stint at the Happy Flower English Academy,” gross overuse of colons, etc.) You might need a stint at Happy Flower English academy yourself darling!

Now there’s no need to respond to this comment and considering it's author is old enough to be my father I feel someone needs to be the adult in this relationaship, and I’m honestly just so giddy that I too have joined the ‘I have a troll!’ club that I’m clearly too excited to reply to everything, although I will say this, anyone who questions British English simply because they haven’t crawled out of their little cocoon long enough really deserves a smack over the head with an Oxford dictionary, don’t you think!?
And you know, he may be on to something about Ryota finding someone who "isn't ridiculous" to fuck, although last time I checked the level of ridiculousness didn't have much to do with a good shag, perhaps my sweet little hater has never had such an experience and that's why he's a bit off, no?

I had a fantastic weekend, complete with SIL having an argument with an Army dude, the beach and competitive running for instant marriage improvement, so will try and write it up tomorrow if I get a minute.

Shattered dreams!

2011-07-30T19:28:00.000+09:00

I’ve briefly mentioned “Mr Inspirational” on here before, the student who I wouldn’t mind a roll in the sack with, despite him being a lot shorter than me, a lot older than me, and with really very little conventional attractive features. His personality, way of thinking and maybe… sense of humour… Attracted me more than anything else, and when I accepted an invitation to go with him to a play and then drinking after, I thought it might actually be a bit dangerous, well, not that dangerous, it wasn’t just the two of us or anything, we were going with a group of his company’s interns that I’d been teaching English as well, but I thought I might get an even bigger crush on him or do something stupid when I was drunk.

Luckily for all parties involved, I’ve gone off him quite a bit!

I don’t think I’ve ever changed my opinion of someone so quickly, but then again, I’ve also never known someone to change their whole personality so much either. It’s going to be really hard to explain… It’s like when he speaks English, he’s one person, and then in Japanese another, but it may also have been to do with the fact that he was the “company president” when he was speaking Japanese and usually he’s just a dude I chat to in English.

The night started off shaky, to start with, as I was going out the door, Ryota said “Have fun escorting!” And I didn’t have time to protest that cheeky comment, but then I really thought about and hoped that wasn’t how it looked to everyone. I’d just never seen it in that light, I got offered free tickets to a play and I love the theatre but rarely get to go anymore and then free nosh and beer, come on, who would say no? But then again, if I’d thought about it harder and had been able to get past the images of the cold amber liquid running down my throat then I might have turned him down, nobody likes to be the gaijin trophy, not when you’ve been in Japan long enough anyway.

The next thing that should have indicated it wasn’t a good idea to go, was the fact that I got lost and ended up being horribly late. Can I just say, NOTHING stresses me out more than being late, if we make an arrangement to meet at 7, guaranteed I’ll be there at 6:30, it must be incredibly annoying for Ryota, I always tell him things are half an hour earlier than they really are just to make sure we’re not late. I especially hate being late in Japan, where gaijins are famous for being tardy compared to the Japanese, although I can say with certainty that I will always beat my J-friends to the meeting spot, to their amazement. So as I was getting further and further lost in the underground maze that is Osaka station, I swallowed my pride and called Mr Inspirational, who couldn’t really help me much and I had to pretty much navigate my way by asking random people for directions, (OK, I say random, but I actually chose young, hot guys so it was a little bit fun!) I finally made it but the show had already started, luckily, we had balcony seats so I didn’t have to climb over a million laps to get to my seat or anything.

I really enjoyed the play, it wasn’t brilliant or anything, but I laughed and cried so it must have been pretty good. At the end of it the actors did a little introduction and thank you for coming bit and asked Mr Inspirational to come up on stage, I guess he’s a sponsor or something, I actually have no idea. It was at this point that I started to go off him, his fakeness was very well pulled off and I’m sure that nobody even noticed it but I always see him being natural and not trying to impress anyone so it was just a bit off-putting as he shook hands and made a little speech that sounded like a totally different person. But still, a job is a job right, surely he’d relax at the drinking party afterwards?

Nope, he was so much the typical “shacho” (President) that it was sickening, he assigned seats and made sure he was surrounded by women, put the quiet interns far away and just generally started bossing everyone around. Now for his interns, he is their boss, so fair enough, but I just didn’t like the tone he was using. He was also barking orders at the staff and telling them to hurry the fuck up every 2 minutes, which I’m all for if it’s shitty service, but it was a Saturday night and they were doing the best they could, it really seemed like he just wanted everyone to know he was the alpha male.
I decided to try and cloud my growing distaste for him by drinking up, but I also had that horrible thought in the back of my mind that if I drank too much then I was likely to say something to him and really fuck things up so decided to hold back a little bit to keep my senses about me. Although this is almost impossible at a J-drinking party, you have absolutely no control over your own drink, every other fucker is always filling it up, my best advice, leave your glass full for as long as possible if you don’t want to get too drunk, otherwise as soon as you take a sip every bastard will be grabbing for it to fill it to the brim again!

Anyway, back to Mr Inspirational/Mr Cock Jockey... So he got worse as he got more and more drunk and started taking the piss out of all his interns, which I have to admit are a goofy bunch, but that’s a story for another day. He made them all answer questions, going around the table and putting them all on the spot, poor things, I felt so sorry for some of them, especially the nerdy kid who does some martial art, he made him get up and demonstrate to us all with his umbrella! He also seemed to say everything from a script, with the women around him (excluding me) playing up to him by giggling and agreeing with every word he said. I hate this shit, if it’s funny- laugh, if you’re just being polite, then maybe smile or give a token chuckle, but don’t act as if you’ve just heard the funniest thing on earth when it clearly isn’t that funny. I guess this goes much deeper in to the world of women in Japan making men feel significant but listening to them and laughing at their jokes and lighting their ciggies and stuff, but it just makes me want to vomit in to my handbag when I see it.

So despite trying to limit the glass filling shenanigans I was quite tipsy by the time I left the izakaya and actually felt quite relieved that Mr Inspirational had repulsed me, it gave me hope for the future of my marriage! (which has been quite good lately by some miracle, just in case you were wondering)

Right, off to the beach tomorrow so best get all the shite together that one needs to go to the beach with a 2 year old and a useless 29 year old! Well, not all useless he will be doing the 3 hour drive there! Happy weekend all!

Costco cuntiness

2011-07-25T20:13:00.001+09:00

This weekend was quite unexpectedly full of fighting fireworks. I haven’t had a good fight for a while, well, not the kind where I can rip the shit out of someone who really deserves it anyway. I get very little chance to fight with anyone apart from Ryota these days and it’s funny because I hate fighting with Ryota, or people I know and love, but I actually like a bit of a good fight with a random stranger that really pisses me off.

And Sunday was the perfect situation; I was cool, calm and very fucking angry by the end of it. I was shaking uncontrollably a few minutes after, the pure adrenalin was amazing!

So… I should preface the story by saying I actually feel the guy I fought with’s pain. I HATE Costco on a good day: the massive carts, bewildered shoppers and crowds of people fighting to get a sample of meat annoy me no end. It’s even worse on a weekend and Ryota and I often comment to each other (quietly mind you) how annoying the person in front of us is when they randomly fucking stop with their huge trolley and contemplate life for a few minutes while the rest of us poor fuckers behind can’t move anywhere. So I could understand people getting a bit agro on a hot Sunday in Costco, hell I was annoyed myself with the hoards of Obachans shouting “Yassssuuuuuiiii naaaaa!!!!” (It’s cheap isn’t it?!) and “Oooooookkkkkiiiiii naaaaaa” (Wow this is fucking huge!) but there are certain ways to vent this frustration, and certain people to vent it to, and certain languages to do it in.

Putting it plainly, Ryota and I are not to be fucked with.

Despite my usually placid exterior if I’m baited appropriately I will rip into someone with no mercy, it’s a trait I’ve picked up from my Dad and I have a pretty good control over it so I’m actually glad I have the balls to stand up for myself when push comes to shove.
Ryota on the other hand is definitely not to be fucked with, he was a bit of a bad boy in his day and is not afraid to punch the shit out of, well, anyone. I discovered this when he almost beat the crap out of the slightly mental boy who flashed his cock at me! Plus, Ryota is bigger than most J-guys and could have easily snapped the Costco guy in half, I’m glad he didn’t, but he was damn close!

So by some unfortunate twist of fate, we ended up going to Costco twice on Sunday (long, boring story about a BBQ being on, then off, then on again), the first time was quite nice, the place had just opened so parking was easy and there weren’t that many people there to make traffic jams, we got our stuff and left. The second time was not as nice, parking was a nightmare, it was the middle of the day, and every fucker was jammed in there inching their carts at snails pace. Still, we’d got what we needed (shitloads of meat basically!) and were headed down the main middle aisle to the check-outs. As we were making our way very slowly down, a kid, I don’t know, maybe about 10 or 11 was clumsily pushing his cart in front of us and was making a major fuck up, but it was a kid, so Ryota and I stopped and waited for him to go, although there were a million other fuckers in front of the kid, so he couldn’t really go that fast.

We’d been stopped for about 5 seconds and I hear an obnoxious, heavily Japanese accented voice booming behind me saying “GO! GO! GO!” Now, at first, I thought it might have been a father to his kid, I actually didn’t click that it may have been directed at me, but the voice was angry and indignant so I turned around to see the cunt behind me again say “GO!!”

Now, I was fucking pissed off already. Who the fuck did this fucker think he was to a) DARE say “GO” to me!? b) To say it in English made things a million fucking times worse, if he’d said it in Japanese it could have been directed to the general crowd but it was only directed at me in English.
I turned to Ryota and said “Is he really talking to me?” To which the guy made a fucking gesture to move and that’s when Ryota and I both knew it was on.

Ryota’s head is like a big pot when he gets angry, his head boils and he goes a deep crimson red, scrunches up his face and puts on this low, angry growl. It’s never been used on me but I’d be fucking scared if it was. So at this point I didn’t say much but Ryota said “What the fuck man?” in Japanese and the guy said something to the effect of “I want to get through” and we were moving by that point so Ryota said “Fuck you baldy” AND THEN the guy had the fucking nerve to say “Ohh fuck you!” Like he knew how to speak English, I caught the fucker out on this later, but the guy was PISSED because Ryota and I were laughing at him. So the general crowd started moving and we got separated from the guy but I was a little disappointed in myself for not saying more.

And then I got my chance!

Costco has the big aisles that everyone moves round right so it was only natural we’d run into him again, and we did, not one minute after the first encounter. This time I looked him right in the eye and gave him my most gutter Japanese “What fucker!?” I could, and he took the bait, he abandoned his cart and embarrassed wife, and led Ryota over to a quiet aisle making empty threats and getting his mobile phone out saying he was calling his senpai. Stupid fucking cunt.
And this was my big chance, Ryota was close to hitting him at this point so I stepped forward and…

Me ( reasonably small voice- Japanese): What the hell, why did you say “GO!” to me??

Him: I wanted to move…

Me: Are you stupid?? It’s Sunday, nobody can move. There was a kid infront of us blocking our way!

Him: No, you were just stopped.

Me (Much louder voice, playing up to the crowd that had formed around us): No, you’re a fucking idiot. Don’t EVER say “GO!” to a gaijin again, most will punch you straight away. We’re in Japan, I can speak Japanese, you can’t speak English so don’t even fucking try. Did you just assume I couldn’t speak Japanese despite having a Japanese husband and son, despite actually being in Japan now??

Him: iya…gaijin dakara (No, it’s just… you’re a foreigner)

Me (In very loud English): Oh, you want to do this in English?! You fucking ugly, bald, shit for brains cunt? Go fuck your mother you blithering idiot!

Him: ……….

He turned back to Ryota then to play the senpai card (because he was older than Ryota) and he also wanted to know where we lived to which Ryota replied honestly, and turns out he’s from the city where we live! Which isn’t that much of a coincidence as it’s quite close to Costco, but still. This is where Ryota was a good quick thinker, the guy then immediately asked our name and while I was eyeing off the giant peanut butter jars to peg at his head Ryota had the coolness to give a fake name, and with complete confidence, like he was a proud 6th generation, he replied “Takeuchi”. If it was me I probably would have stumbled and said “Errr, our name is… errrrr Vinegar….Arrow….Mountain! or something equally fake sounding and ridiculous.

So they went at it for a few more minutes but it was really going nowhere and Ryota really was about to blow up so I urged him to keep moving as the cunt really wasn’t worth wasting any more time on, plus the twat actually apologized in the end, it was pretty half-arsed but there really was no way he could win the argument, there was no argument, just him being a fucking rude twat.

I was thinking maybe I shouldn’t have even given him the satisfaction of engaging with someone so far below me but I’m actually happy I got my point across, because that guy, despite still being a cunt, will never say anything to a gaijin again I’m positive, and this makes me very very happy!

So... apart from my crumbling personal life...

2011-07-20T18:58:00.004+09:00

The only thing I really have to write about is the state of my marriage, but I need to have a little break from the moaning posts or I will drive myself, (or all of you) insane I’m sure! So, I thought I’d address a rather pressing issue that takes my fancy…

BUM HOLES!

Please, please watch this!

I grew up watching shit like this; pure, satirical, British brilliance.
I love British comedy, watching Japanese “comedy” leaves me feeling like the creators of the program take me for a fucking moron if they think slapping a man on the head or falling in to a tub of boiling hot water for the millionth fucking time really makes me laugh that much. I mean, it’s OK sometimes but I need some kind of brain stimulation!

But back to the issue at hand…Anyone who has taught small children in Japan (actually I don’t think you even need to be a teacher, just live here for a while) will have been exposed to that phenomenon of fingers of small children being thrust up their bum, we all remember the rude shock we got when some adorable kid would come up next to you, looking all loving and smiley, then with a cheeky glint in their eye, would shriek “KANCHOOOOO!!!” and put their hand in to a position as if it were a gun and use all their might to ram their two fingers as far as they could up your arse (through your clothes, thank the Lord!). I was as shocked and appalled by this game as anyone when I first started teaching in Japan and didn’t quite know how to react to it. How could sticking your fingers up bums be seen as a fun thing to do?! What kind of sick country have I come to?! It would be just the start of a flurry of questions that I would ask Japan over the years. Everyone tells you to take your shoes off at the door, don’t put chopsticks in rice, blah blah blah, let’s get some “Protect your God Damn arsehole” warning in these guide books!

I should just explain the bastardness of the word "kancho" too, it is one of those words, that no matter how long I speak Japanese for, I always fucking mix up, usually I confuse it with "kanJO" as in "kanjo sen" (loop train line). I swear to fucking god I have, on more than one occasion said "OK, let's just catch the enema then." Or "OK, he is really constipated, give him the old loop." For fucks sake, why do I get the embarassing words mixed up!?

I’ve been away from the old kancho for a while though, having your own English school means you not only have more control over the little bastards, but smaller groups means you can keep more of an eye on wandering fingers. However, I also work at a kindergarten on Fridays for some easy money, I say easy, but can we really put a price on anal intrusions?? It only took a few times working there when the first attack occurred, but it took me by surprise, it was a front kancho, when did this transition happen!? And he gave it his all the little fucker, took a big swing and really put his back in to it. Of course after I’d doubled over, I grabbed him, looked him in the eye and said through clenched teeth in English “You do that again mate, and I will hurt you.” I think he saw the look in my eye even if he didn’t understand the language, because he scampered off and did a puzzle by himself for 20 minutes. It made me much more angry than I remember, maybe because it had been so long since I’d had to deal with it, or because I’m much less tolerant now I have my own kid testing my limits all the time. I’m not sure why, but I felt a bit bad, he’s actually a good little kid.

It got me to thinking though, in Western countries, sticking fingers up bumholes is a huge no no, and most kids know it. Hell, most kids already associate it with homosexuality and would probably call you a poofta if you tried it! So why is it OK in Japan?? Where homosexuality is even more repressed than in Western countries?

And I’ve got it.

I’ve realized why it is completely acceptable for a small child to giggle in delight as they revel in the pure joy of poking and pushing their way in to an adult’s clacker, making them feel uncomfortable and watching them jump 4 feet in the air in surprise.

It’s because things are shoved up a Japanese baby’s arse, and with not even a second thought!

One fine example: bum bullets. Anyone with kids in Japan knows exactly what I’m talking about, t’s a little bullet that you shove up your kids bum hole if they have a fever. And that shit WORKS. I was skeptical at first, I was opposed to bum hole intrusion, but I swear to God, I want to sell bum bullets in the West, they are a parent’s savior when a kid is sick, they probably are the same as kids panadol but the difference is how fast they work, a bum bullet is almost instantaneous unlike medication taken by mouth that not only takes time but can be easily vomited up.

Another one that I’ve only recently come to discover, is the solution for constipation in children, you just buy a little squirty device, shove it up the kid’s bum and WAHLAH! The shit just comes pouring out of them, more shit than you ever thought was possible!
I drew the line with this one though, Ash hadn’t done a shit for about 2 days and the in-laws solution to the problem? KANCHOOO! KANCHOOO! And I was like “Woahhhh hold your horses there, the poor kid is a bit blocked up but do we really need to go shoving things up his arsehole in such a hurry??” And then I was shouted down for being cruel?! How the fuck does that work?!

Anyway, as it turned out, Ash must have understood that I was fighting to keep his ring in tact because as we were having the discussion he went to the toilet and dropped some big kids off at the pool, good little lad he is.
But it really made me realize that I can’t blame J-kids for wanting to violate my bum, they’re brought up with it!

The cure for loneliness...

2011-07-15T20:16:00.001+09:00

Step 1- Have a sob in the toilet… or the shower… or both…

Step 2- Feel really miserable.

Step 3- Blog about it.

Step 4- Realise that in this modern day and age technology has enabled me to feel quite the opposite of lonely.

I can’t thank you all enough. Honestly, that sounds freaky and nerdy but I just felt so loved by all the advice, sympathy, warm wishes and love that you all gave me. ❤

And just to put your minds at ease, last night there were more toilet tears (I actually took a photo of me crying in the toilet but kept giggling at the ridiculousness of the sounds coming from the toilet, *sob* *obnoxious camera shutter noise* *giggle* *sob*
And then as I emerged puffy eyed and went to the fridge I saw a box of cake, I asked Ryota who he’d got them off so I knew who to thank, we weren’t speaking, just basic question and answers in pissed off tones, to which he mumbled, “I bought them…(%$”#(‘))(trailed off)” Once I’d made him repeat himself clearly he said “They’re to say sorry, for last night…”
Now cake may not seem enough but let me tell you, he has NEVER brought anything home, so I was actually gob smacked! He then promised a shag if I’d forgive him, and I have, but I haven’t forgotten and will be making inquiries as to my options for the future.

Of course I’m not perfect (I know, SHOCKING) and I think I was a little bit too sensitive, because the world isn’t actually against me and I do in fact have a lot of people supporting me, so I need to tone the drama down a bit. I also explained to Ryota that he has the ability to keep the silent treatment going, but it makes me feel really isolated, and like my last supporter hates me. He said he’d try and communicate more so I was happy we got it all out in the open anyway. Please don’t apologise for calling him a dickhead/cunt/ (insert obscenity here), all insults are welcome here!

He fell asleep and almost didn’t come through with the shagging promise but I woke him up and we did have a lovely shag, and OH. MY. GOD. I felt so much better, who knew that shagging really has that much effect on me!? We actually decided that the root of the fight was probably more related to me being horny and him craving a cigarette (did I mention he quit??) and we realized that we needed to voice these things, not just hide them and then explode at each other.

Our marriage is far from perfect, he’s not, neither am I. I don’t know how long we’ll stay together but I can’t change the future, just live for today and try and enjoy life as much as possible. Thank you again for the wonderful comments, I hope to get round to replying to them all tomorrow because there were some really good points raised!

The good, the bad and the toilet sobbing.

2011-07-14T17:03:00.003+09:00

OK, so I was going to put up a post about the nice weekend we had just to reassure you all it isn’t always so bad in my life… I’ll put the pictures up before I get to more moaning…

Annnnnnnnd on to the moaning we go!!! (Click away if you don't want to get depressed!)

OK, warm and fuzzies out of the way, we did have a good weekend, but things continue to be quite bad between R and I. God, am I abbreviating him in some horrible psychological move to distance him from me?? Or am I over thinking and just being lazy…?
Anyway, last night saw a pretty big fight that has continued in to this morning and we still haven’t talked yet.

Where do I start… Where did it start…??? Oh that’s right, I’ve been sick this week (hence the lack of blogging/doing anything constructive, sorry!) I had tonsillitis last week and this week I’ve had blinding headaches and no appetite all week. It could possibly be the heat, I’m not sure, but whatever it is it’s just making me feel fucking awful. I try not to whine about it, but sometimes I can’t help it and screw up my face in pain as blood pumps behind my eyes until I almost pass out. Now, I know it’s annoying to be around someone who is always sick, but at least Ryota could have pretended to be sympathetic… The response I got the most though was, “Ohhhh, but you don’t have time to go to the Doctor right??” (In a very sarcastic tone) Why the fuck did I teach him sarcasm?? But I swear to God it’s true! I have very little time to go to the Doctor unless I cancel a day of lessons, and when you run your own school and you are the only teacher, it just doesn’t go down well to cancel lessons, I know students would understand but I’d either have to refund money or make-up lessons which just fucks me off no end. Plus, I hate Japanese doctors, I hate any doctors but I hate not being able to fully explain myself and then being told something that I think is pure bullshit. As it turned out, I went to the doctor this morning and when I told him I’d had a headache for 3 days straight he said… well, nothing! Gave me my prescription for my fat medicine and called in the next patient! Japanese doctors have got to be some of the most useless fucking cunts in the world, surely there’s a study on that somewhere!?
So anyway, moral of this: He has very little (in my opinion) empathy with me. And yes, I don’t want him to baby me like I can’t do anything myself, but I don’t know, I’d like him to just be a bit…nicer? Maybe I’m being picky and spoiled here but it still kind of upset me.

The next thing, and it may have been building from the doctor tiff, was the fucking glass bottles. Usually, I get our rubbish ready to be taken out the next morning and Grandma comes and collects it from out genkan and puts it out with hers. I’m very grateful for this, it’s one less thing I have to worry about in the mornings, but I’ve never asked Grandma to do this, I could just as easily put hers out with ours on the way to kindy, but she tells us she likes the walk to the rubbish pile, gives her a bit of exercise. Whatever, go for your life granny! Yesterday was glass bottle day and we had loads of the bastards because I ‘d cleaned out the fridge after constant bellyaching from Ryota about how it was crowded and dirty. (And fair play, there ended up being about 15 salad dressing bottles!) I find Japanese rubbish sorting sooooo tedious, I know it’s good for the environment and all but I’ll be fucked if I am separating every bastard thing every fucking day, I do the bare minimum and occasionally sneak something prohibited in to get rid of it. Fucking shoot me.

So when I got the bottles out, I poured out the contents and gave them a swish with water, I didn’t wash them until they were squeaky clean, because quite frankly who could be fucked?? A housewife with nothing to do but polish her wooden floors for a 5th time that day, maybe. Me? Nope.
I put the bottles out and Grandma said something about them being dirty later that day, but when I looked at the rubbish pile there was nothing left so I assumed they’d taken them. So we get to 7pm last night and I got home after teaching about 15 kids in a row and still with scorcher of a headache to Ryota saying: “Soooo what’s for dinner??” and again, I fucking hate making dinner, use your half brain cell and get something yourself you cunt!! Was what I said in my head, but I kept my mouth shut and got Ash some pizza, to which Grandma said “Pizza’s no good for him, I’ll make him some fish!” To which I replied “NO THANK YOU, the pizza is home made and is perfectly fine for him.” Through gritted teeth. (The more I write the more I realize I was getting more and more pissed off as the night went on). The whole ‘in-laws dissing my food’ is another whiny post in itself by the way…

So we go back to our house and I start getting Ash’s dinner ready and Ryota says to me: “We have to wash the bottles next time…” and I said “Oh, yeah, I know, I did wash them, just not totally clean.” And then he said “Well, you have to, I got yelled at!” And this just pissed me off no end, so Grandma got angry at Ryota, he told her to yell at me instead but obviously she won’t do that, because I’m not part of the family enough to be yelled at for shit like that (probably a good thing).

I then got a bit huffy and said “Fine, I’M doing all rubbish related duties from now on, Grandma doesn’t have to.” And Ryota got really pissed at me saying I was childish and I shouldn’t try and deflect my own mistakes. He has a point here, I mean I didn’t wash the bottles and then I got huffy. And I think this is where the heart of our problems lie, in a situation like this, I feel totally alone, by myself, shag on a rock.

I feel like I have no supporters at all, they’re all against me! I know this is ridiculous but it’s just an automatic thing and my reaction is to get defensive. Then when Ryota gets angry at me, I feel EVEN more alone. Take, for example, last night. Ryota didn’t talk at all, I made him coffee as a peace offering and he snatched it without a thank you and the only person I talked to all night, was Ash. Which isn’t really counted as conversation when it’s just him saying “GRRRRRRRRR!!!!” lots and me saying “Oooooo you’re a scary dinosaur!!” Although I think his senses picked up when I was sobbing in the shower (Ryota hates crying and calls me pathetic if I do it in front of him) and he came and gave me a big hug before smacking me in the head with a rubber ducky and giggling.

And so when we got out of the shower, I couldn’t stop crying. Because I couldn’t help feeling like I didn’t have a soul in the world that I could have talked to at that moment. (I have fucking tears in my eyes re-reading this!)

So I went to the toilet and pulled my knees to my chest and cried to the point I almost couldn’t breathe because I was so lonely and wanted someone to be on my side to give me a big hug.

I’m craving affection. Kindness. Sex!!! Haha it’s been at least a month!

I don’t think I can change him, so I need to make some decisions… and possibly a new blog titled “How to get a divorce in Japan…” And definitely a top quality vibrator in the meantime...

Destroying the dream…

2011-07-08T20:17:00.000+09:00

One little piece at a time.

I’m not sure if every girl dreams of their wedding day like I did, I don’t know why it’s so important to us, but I’d fantasised, planned, and created every single detail of my wedding even before I knew who I was going to marry. ‘What’s that faceless groom, you don’t care for these flowers and 3 tiered cake? Tough! I’m having it!!’ Seriously, I used to doodle my wedding dress design when I was supposed to be studying, I scoured jewellery catalogues for the perfect diamond engagement ring. It bordered on obsession!

So obviously I was fucked sideways when I got knocked up with no time, money or inspiration to plan a wedding. (I refused to not be able to drink alcohol or be fat at my own wedding) And there was always this vague thought that we should have a wedding, some day, when we had time, or money… or inspiration. At the moment the only one we have is money, but I think the inspiration is still there somewhere under all the pessimistic layers.

I think my mother-in-law, being a woman and all, sympathized with me, she obviously knew how important a wedding is to a girl and the past few months has been saying: “You’re thin now, it’s the perfect oppourtunity,!!” So I was a heifer that would have looked really bad before…thanks? However, time and planning restraints are a reality for us so she suggested we go to a photo studio, get all dolled up with make-up, hair and a wedding dress and tux and take piccies so we can lie to Ash, push the dates back a bit and say he was totally planned after a year or so of wedded bliss. Well, even if we don’t lie, it will be nice if there are a picture or two of his parents getting married, otherwise he might not believe it!

I wasn’t keen on this idea in the beginning, I gave many reasons for not being keen, like the dresses would all be girly, frilly, lacy, balls of puffy material covered in bows and hearts and shit as is the Japanese style, or that despite losing a significant amount of the chub, Japanese sizes would probably still be either too small, or definitely too short to cover my pins. And you know, didn’t really want my wedding pictures to be like little Bo peep with her ankles hanging out. I gave these reasons to MIL but really, the main reason I didn’t want to do it? Because I knew if we did do the pictures then the chances of having my dream wedding would totally be gone. The chances are slim to none anyway, but at least I can still dream. I pouted on this point for a while but started to convince myself that pictures actually would be a good idea, and it could actually be kind of fun getting dressed up.

And so, I agreed to go and look at the dresses if nothing else, although the studio was in Kobe which is over an hour from us so I made MIL call the place and enquire about gaijin sizes and a variety of styles, and if they had simple styles or not. The woman on the phone was very re-assuring, “Ohhhh don’t worry!! We have soooo many dresses in ALL sizes, in ALL styles!”
After we drove to the place in the pouring rain and the staff had given us our little cup of tea, I was given a book with all the dresses to look at. And, as predicted (by me) MIL kept gushing over them saying “OHHH IT’S GOOOOOORRRRRRRGGGGGEEEEOOOOOUUUUSSSSS!” While I scrunched up my nose and said “Errr, yeah, if you’re a 4 year old girl going to a princess party!” I should point out here that the frilly stuff suits some people, a lot of people maybe, but it just doesn’t work for me, I’m not sure if it’s because I’m tall or what, but the cutesy shite doesn’t suit me AT ALL. I gently explained to the staff that I wanted the simplest style they had, so they showed me one dress that I didn’t love, but it was bearable, V-neck bodice and a puffy, but not too bad skirt, she tried to put extra puffy shite in the skirt until I stopped her too! Anyway, after having to strip off in front of 3 women with tape measures studying the dimensions of my body I squished in to the bodice and skirt only for it to come up to my shins. They then assured me that they could take the picture sitting down or I could hunch over a bit and it would still turn out fine, but how am I supposed to smile and act natural if I’m hunched over!? So I told them that it was fine, I’d just leave it, but they were determined to put me in a frilly number, just to see what it looked like, MIL was also pushing and it was at this point that something kinda broke in me, and I got tears in my eyes. I don’t know where it came from but I was just overwhelmed with sadness, so I faked a cough and wiped my eyes but I can’t hide it when I cry, my whole fucking face goes blotchy, so I’m sure they all knew I was crying but of course this is Japan and nobody would console me for fear of embarrassing me, which is good in one way but I just wanted a big cuddle!

I composed myself enough for the staff to go scurrying off for another dress they thought I might like and after 20 minutes of them searching for the damn thing it was high necked, which is just not me either, I may have been too picky but I can’t help it if I don’t like it! So I said a gentle “sorry for all the searching but… I don’t like it…” It was a very direct gaijin thing of me to say but I was fed up by that time and just wanted to go home and have a good blubber but knew I had to endure the car ride home with MIL. MIL got quite angry at this point, telling the staff that on the phone they’d assured her there were a variety of styles and sizes when clearly there weren’t, but I think it was more for my benefit rather than her real opinion, if she’d had her choice I would have been squished in to a meringue-type dress and wrapped up in lace!

It seems things like this destroy a tiny part of my dreamer’s soul whenever they happen. I have to accept that I’ll never have my wedding, but for a princess like me it’s not an easy task!

A pickle of a quiz-ee-oo

2011-07-07T07:32:00.002+09:00

What do you think my darling husband said when he saw this photo...?

Go on! Guess!!! (this isn't the quiz by the way)

....

.....

No? No? Anyone? Bueller?

Ok, I'll tell you!

Him: wow, this a really good photo of you, you look beautiful! Like a model...

Me: (snorts on the outside but actually feels all warm and gooey on the inside because it has been that fucking long since he has said anything to make me feel even close to good)

Him: ...it doesn't look like you at all in real life, what software did you use!?!?

------------------------------------------
And now for your quiz ladies and gents!

How would you react in this situation?? Considering this conversation also took place ON OUR ACTUAL WEDDING ANNIVERSARY??

Would you:

a) Go the J-way and cover your mouth with your hand in an embarrassed giggle and say "oh yes master, my wonderful husband, you are so very right, I am so hideous and not worthy of you!" and proceed to go wipe his bum for him.

b) Laugh it off and say "you're a cock jockey!" and give him a playful slap.

c) Tear him a new mouth/ arsehole and say "you better be leaving this house right now mother fucker!" and smash a fish tank or similarly heavy object over his head before shoving him out the door and promptly locking it.

Soooooo?

I went for b) but a tiny part of me fantasised about c). Wouldn't have been fair to the poor fishies though...

Fuckity follow-up

2011-07-05T22:03:00.001+09:00

OK, thought I best follow up all the fuckity fucks or you might think I have thrown myself under a train or into a rice field or something.

Nope, still here. Just.

The weekend was so shit, like one of the shittiest I've had for a while, and I was going to go in to great detail about everything but I have a student coming in 10 minutes so it'll have to be a quickie!

Basically the weekend was just full of dipshits, crazies, drunks and complete arseholes getting in my way and pissing my off, with Ryota being the top arsehole leading them all!

Sooooooo

Saturday-

I encountered a crazy gaijin hunter woman who shouted at me like a fucking lunatic at the conbini. She was at the entrance and I was at the fridges and she was like "WHERE ARE YOU FROM!?!?!" and I was just so mortified and embarrassed and felt like getting the thickest manga porno I could find and smacking her on the nose, like a naughty dog because there is just no fucking need to a) shout b) shout in English c) bother me at all!
But you know, I'm quite friendly by nature, so I put on my best fake gaijin smile and said "Australia..." then she really started to piss me off because she goes right up to Ash who was cowering behind my leg from all the shouting, and said "HE IS HAAAALLLLLFFFUUUUU??? HE FACE JAPANESE!?!?!" and she had this tone about her voice like she felt sorry for him. Way to insult my child and your own race lady!
I just wanted to get out of there at that point, the hot as hell outside was even better than the icy inside talking to her. So I grabbed Ash the nearest lolly and got the fuck out.

Then, I went to the park for a picnic breakfast and I don't know how, or why, but there was a guy on a bicycle with a tennis racket, who was utterly pissed! At like 9am in the morning! I'm guessing he was on his way to tennis and pissed?? Surely there wasn't enough time to play and celebrate that early in the morning?? Anyway, the drunk fucker was teetering all over the place in front of me and I'm not a bell ringer so I waited patiently behind him and despite Ash chattering away pisshead didn't move, then finally I gave a cheery "Summimasen! (drunk cunt)" and he stopped his bike, looked behind me, and grunted. Rude fucker.

And theeeeennnn, I encountered a very fuckin rude gaijin Dad! I took Ash to a shopping centre about 20 minutes away with a Swedish playground (I have no idea what makes it Swedish by the way... can anyone tell me?) on the roof, outside, so bastard hot, but staff run around spraying kids '(and Australian women) with water sprays and they have massive icy fans so not too bad. Anyway, see little girl with brown hair and then see the Dad, a typical whitie Charisma cunt wearing shorts and moccasins, stupid twat. I smiled DIRECTLY at him, and he was seriously like one of the agents in the Matrix, just cold, blank look and slowly turned away from me. No big loss, but fuck you buddy! And to make it even worse, he was a fucking terrible Dad, his daughter was big enough to play on her own but there was an area set up where kids could write their tanabata wishes and Ash was eating the crayons when the little halfey girl came to do hers, White cunt was sitting across the other side of the playground trying to look important reading a book the fucker. The staff were asking the poor little girl what she was going to write and I'm not sure if she didn't understand, it was more likely she was just shy but I started talking to her in English and said I was going to wish for an ice cream to come floating in the air to me right now and she started giggling and drawing, still ignoring the staff who were barking random English and Japanese at both of us. So not only was white Charisma cunt not friendly, I also had to entertain his poor kid.

Saturday was pretty uneventful after that, until I got home and the real fireworks began of course. I teach a lesson in the evening and then go straight to dance class, so I'm out of the house at 6:30 and I come back at about 10. Considering Ryota knows this, I always leave him dinner and am prepared to bath Ash when I get back, PLUS the useless mother fucker spends all his time at his mum's house anyway, this should not be a big deal. I work hard, I want to do something fun and for myself, deal with it! Part of the problem on Saturday night stemmed from Ryota NEVER listening to anything I say too, I specifically told him the class finishes at 9:30 and after de-sweating and chatting with the dopey girls it's 10 when I get home, yet he still told me he thought I'd be home at 9:30. It also didn't help that I came to the house an absolute tip, dishes and clothes and nappies and shite scattered everywhere. I just felt this huge weight of disappointment that this is solely my responsibility, can he not put a dish in the fucking sink for fuck's sake??

And then he had the fuckin' nerve to say to me "You have a family you know..."

AND may I add that the fucker had been surfing ALL DAY that day, plus when he came home he slept until I left at 6:30pm.

I was so angry, I honestly just wanted a divorce right then and there. And I had flashes of becoming my parents and it scared the living fuck out of me.

I think he got a bit of a shock when I was JUST angry, usually I cry and blubber and apologise and carry on but Saturday was pure, unfiltered, I-WILL-smash-you-in-the-face- with-the-nearest-blunt-object, rage. I told him the logical reasons why I was angry and then he came back at me with "You always tell me to leave it when I offer to clean up!!!" Which is actually true, because without fail, he will manage to pick apart my cleaning technique/organisational skills or something, and make me feel like shit. So I told him if I'm home, I'll do it, if I'm not, fuckin get off your arse and do it you lazy cunt (actually in those words).

So we shall see...

Fuckity fuck fuck

2011-07-02T23:20:00.000+09:00

It's days like this when I want to fuck off and run away somewhere. Anywhere but here.

Sorry to be so cryptic, I would tell the whole story but I'm on my iPhone so I'd kill myself in pure frustration if I tried. Let's just say the utterance of "you have a family" pushed me way over the fuckin' edge...

On the plus side, my kid is damn cute so I got one thing out of it all...

Replies to comments and a real post soon, I promise!

Yo! Yo! In da' house!

2011-06-27T18:55:00.003+09:00

OK, sincere apologies for the title, as we all know, I am WAY too white to ever be thinking about typing such hip and happenin’ (FUCK I did it again…!) things unless I’m referring to a child’s toy being in an actual house.
However, this is Japan, and this white girl can actually go to hip hop dance classes and still get away with it! Woohoo!

So yes, I am officially signed up with a local dance studio and am taking hip hop lessons on Saturday nights! The first lesson was pretty hilarious, I was late as my last lesson at the school finishes at 7:50 and after shutting up shop and riding the 20 minute bike ride in 10, I was only a few minutes late, but still, late enough for every single person in the room to spin around mid-stretch and have a good stare at the sweaty, panting white girl that rushed in the room. As I tried to blend in and started stretching and pretending to look all professional the music came to an end and the teacher took the liberty to say “Ohhh new face, HELLLOOO!!!” Giving every fucker another chance to hone in on me again, like I didn’t feel rare enough at a fucking hip hop class, my balance is dodgy at the best of times! Then, we moved on to the really fun part of the warm-up: “Quiz the foreign girl in the room!” Love that part! I got questions from all sides, but as the questions came thick and fast, I actually started to relax a little, because I’d say 80% of the girls in there, could be scientifically put in a category of: dumb as dog shit. I feel I have the authority to make this sweeping and somewhat shocking statement as I would probably include myself in the 80%.

It’s a guy’s dream though, boys, if you want to pick up hot J-girls that aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed, seriously, go to hip hop dance classes. Lots of bending and jumping, boobies flying all over the place! The reason I came to the conclusion that most of these girls were pretty dopey was not only the abundance of orange hair and make-up caked on to a level that is just wrong when you are sweating so profusely, but some of the things they came up with while grilling me was very indicative…

Dopey girl 1: So, where are you from??

Bewildered white girl (AKA me): I’m from Australia…

D.G.1: Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh !!!!!!!!
(seriously, it was a long one, and I’m usually immune or participating in long “ehh”’s)

Me: Ahh, yup, that’s right…

Dopey girl 2: Ehhhh, wait are you halfu??

Me: Huh? No…

Dopey girl 2: So neither of your parents are Japanese?!?!

Me: (Thinking- You fucking twat, I couldn’t look less Japanese if I tried) Yup, my parents are from England and then I was born in Australia..

Both dopey girls: Ehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!

I shot the teacher a pleading look at this point as I was keen for the questions to cease and the ‘bopping’ and/or ‘popping’ to begin. We started with some insanely painful stretches and holding of positions that made me think I was going to ahem, split my difference, if you get what I mean… for 2 minutes at a time. Trust me, when you feel like your vagina may come apart at the seams, 2 minutes is a very long fucking time. I gotta give it to the dopey girls though, they are extremely bendy and didn’t seem to be fussed or breaking a sweat at all by the stretches that had me screwing up my face and holding my breath willing it to be over. Perhaps this is why they can afford to wear so much make-up?! After the stretchy hell was finished we went through some basic moves and I was thinking “Yeah! OK! I’m good with this!!” I’m somewhat famous for being unco-ordinated so my ability to stick to a basic rhythm was impressing me, a smile spread across my lips as I glanced in the mirror wall and then at the teacher, I even also gave a resounding “YES!” when the teacher asked if everyone was OK!

Another good thing was the fact that I didn’t feel self-conscious (despite sticking out like a sore thumb) at all. None of the girls or the teacher made me feel stupid when I fucked up, and for me this is very important when I’m learning anything. Of course after the basic moves were done it was on to actually learning a routine and I gave it a good hard crack but my brain was over loaded by the end of the hour and a half and I ended up just doing steps that resembled what everyone else was doing when actually I had no fucking clue.

This week’s lesson was much better, the routine we learnt was shorter and we practiced it more, making the dopey girls almost collapse with “EHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!” and other such noises of surprise as they informed me it took them at least 6 months to get the routine down. I’m sure they were just trying to flatter me but I’ll take it anyway! The teacher had obviously studied how to explain the moves in English as well, but she must remember to also say it in Japanese because she said “Push back!” and I was the only fucker who did it, the rest of the class were scratching their heads going ‘What the fuck did she just say!?’ She failed in the English department when it came to explaining the body wave though, and quite right, that shit is hard in any language! There was also a guy there for a trial lesson this week who had NO idea, like much more than me, he couldn’t even clap to a beat, but again, everyone (including me) was nice and encouraging to him. In this respect I really like the ‘team effort’ approach to classes in Japan, of course there are a lot of bad points about it too, like Junior high school kids being robots and stuff, but for me and my hip hopping adventures, it works great!

So I shall continue and see how I go, there are dance shows every year so I may just get ghetto-ed up and dance my way across a stage, in front of *gulp* an audience! Must make sure my muscles recover before then, my legs are fucking killing me, as well as my elbows, who fucking knew elbows could hurt so much!?

Yo Yo! Peace out!

(sorry...)

My Turkish delight.

2011-06-24T20:11:00.004+09:00

I hate to admit it, but the Turkish delight was one of my few slip ups. If the boys were duds in bed like Shingo, or just ridiculously short like the Peruvian then it was easy to love em’ and leave em’ but when they were charming and flirty and fun, it was hard to not get sucked in to the web of being emotionally fucked over. I don’t know why women do it to ourselves, we know deep down in our heart of hearts that the guy is never going to be our prince charming, yet we hold out the hope and check our phone every 3 minutes to see if he’s called or texted. I was lucky in a way, I got distracted with an Iranian boy after the Turkish delight, but had I not been, he may have well and truly done me over.

Needless to say I was exhausted after my surprise Friday night pick up and drunken Saturday night adventure so after brunch on Sunday I decided that a quiet night in with movies was definitely in order, I remember being in the video store choosing old classics when my friend from when I first came to Japan called me, she worked at various Osaka bars and clubs so Sunday night was always her night off, and she asked me if I fancied Turkish food. Never one to turn down such an offer (especially in Japan!) I got the movies and hopped straight on the train. I promised myself not to drink a drop and I didn’t go home and doll myself up on purpose so I wouldn’t be tempted to any late night bar or clubbing adventures, I was going to have dinner and then come straight home in time to still watch a movie before I had to sleep. But things never go like that do they.

I did keep one promise that night, I didn’t touch a drop of alcohol, I think my body was still saturated in vodka from the night before, plus the lack of sleep made me feel queasy just thinking about drinking. Another reason I decided to go for dinner was that I knew a good meal would make me feel better too. So I met my friend in Osaka and she led me through the winding backstreets around Dottonbori to the obscure tiny Turkish place that’s aroma was amazingly good I remember actually sucking up drool in my mouth. Once we got inside it was an unexpectedly big restaurant with garish pillars and fake plants, dimply lit by fake candles and swinging chandeliers. Belly dancing girls were snaking their way through the tables in an hourly show, their flat tummies not that authentic, but nice to look at all the same. My friend knew the owners and we were seated in a quiet corner and started chatting with a club owner who was at the next table. The night scene is so small in Osaka, it seemed that there were only about 3 owners who shared the gaijin bars so everyone knew each other. I’d met Turkish delight before at a club but never actually talked to him personally, but he was in the kitchen waving madly at us and mouthing that he’d be over in a second. I highly doubt he was a chef by trade, more than likely he was in Japan and happened to be Turkish so ended up working there, not that it mattered, the food was amazing.

After we were stuffed with all the goodies we could eat, the trademark Turkish ice cream stretching began and Turkish delight chose me to make a fool of by taking the ice cream and doing a little show for all the Japanese people in the restaurant. I wasn’t amused, I hate being the centre of attention when it’s not my choice and instantly turned bright red and tried to hide my face, but I must admit, I was already admiring the cheeky smile Turkish delight liked to flash around. We stayed talking and eating for a long time, so long that we ended up still being there when they were ready to close and I hadn’t realized but the last train had also gone. This wasn’t that big of a deal, my friend lived in the city and I could always just crash at her place but it soon became apparent from her shots and beer chasers that she was up for a big night, and despite the fun I was having, I was still totally wrecked and desperately needed sleep. I could have asked for her key but we weren’t actually that close and I felt a bit weird asking, so I decided I was going to walk as far as I could and then taxi it back home. I once walked home from Umeda, which is further away than where we were so I knew it was possible, it would take a good 3 fucking hours but it was definitely do-able. I told the group that I was heading off and most of them were too pissed to notice so I slipped out the door and began my weary trek down the main streets to drink in the sites and sounds of straggling drunk salarymen and hosts just about to go to work, it wasn’t long after I’d started walking that I heard footsteps running behind me. Now Japan is not a place where I’ve ever felt that threatened at night but my instincts pricked up all the same and I swiveled around to see the Turkish delight in his street clothes and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth running after me. He said he was worried about me walking home and my panties just about fell off right there, I mean really, what girl in Japan can resist a gentleman when the usual Japanese guy slams doors in your face or sinks down in to his keitai while you stand up in high heels on the train!?

So we walked and chatted and he told me he wanted to move to England and start a business selling Turkish sweets which was kind of random, I wasn’t sure where this was going though, we walked for a good hour before he finally asked me where I lived and I told him my suburb which was still a good hour and a half away at a fast pace. I felt bad then, like I’d trapped him but he just laughed and said he’d pay for the taxi. (Again with the lure of the gentleman, no wonder I fell for him!) So we got to my place and I felt awkward without the usual alcohol pumping through my veins but his charm took over for me so I didn’t really have to do much. And he was good in bed, like he totally loved me for that 2 hours we were messing around, which is just irresistible. I remember him stroking my cheeks and playing with my hair at some ridiculous hour in the morning but I was fighting sleep because I wanted to take in all the affection I could. We finally fell asleep and woke up for more cuddles and morning sex which most Japanese guys I’ve been with have never been in to (I’m all for it as long as I have a chance to brush my teeth and wash my face first, OCD is a very unromantic thing sometimes.)

Now if he’d left in the morning with no mention of any further meetings then I don’t think I would have been so taken with him, OK, who am I kidding I totally would have been… But he was such a flirt that he made all these empty promises and then rarely came through on them or cancelled at the last minute for some reason that I thought sounded legit at the time but looking back should have been screaming “he’s fucking a different girl you simple cow!!!” at me all along. Long, teary story short, I let the Turkish delight string me along for far too long and only ever shagged him twice after that before the Iranian came in to the picture and helped me forget him. Turns out my Turkish delight was a little too sweet, even for my sweet tooth.

And that, was definitely the craziest shagging weekend I’ve ever had!

We interrupt the three-day shagging fest...

2011-06-21T18:28:00.003+09:00

For a bit of a moan, because that’s what this blog really is, isn’t it? Sex and moaning, with a dog-fucker and funny old lady thrown in occasionally!

The kebab shop where I used to go in my home town after a heavy night on the piss had a huge mural with the words “it costs nothing to be nice” on it. The guy who ran the store was Iranian and he was nice to everybody, he had drunk fuckers coming in to that shop at all hours of the night stumbling all over the place and I never once saw him throw anyone out or get angry. And because of this, everyone knew him and respected him, he was a genuinely nice guy, the type who gave you the kebab even when you were so fucking blind that you looked at the coins in your hand with a puzzled look when he told you the price, he let you use the toilet even if you weren’t buying, just a good guy in general. And it was also because of this that nobody ever did any dumb shit in his store, like try to steal stuff or vomit all over the counter or anything, actually I’m sure someone did vomit at some point, but nobody would do it on purpose, he was famous in our little city, and even smaller drinking scene.

I really wish more people were like him, and a lot of people are and aren’t given recognition for it, but some people really piss me off, for example, let’s call him “map cunt”…

Yesterday I was at the school doing some work when an oldish man peered through the glass at me, I thought he was an old crazy wanting to ~~take a trial lesson~~ stare at my tits for a few minutes but when he came in he had rolled up bits of paper so I knew he was selling something. Usually when salesmen come in I do a Basil Fawlty with the old “My husband handles all such matters!!” and then fob them off, or if they’re really persistent, actually get Ryota to call them, and when he tells them to fuck off and never call again or he’ll smash their knee caps in they wish they’d never tried. (Not really, but he is very brutal with annoying sales people!) I am the total opposite to Ryota, a salesman’s dream, in that I find it very hard to say no. Even in English I find it hard, but it’s even worse in Japanese.

So map cunt got off on the wrong foot with me from the very start when he said in a very loud, obnoxious voice, “MANAGAAAAAARRRR???!!! WHERE??? MANAAAAAGGGGAAAARRRR?????” Number one, don’t fucking assume I can’t speak Japanese, at least wait till I completely fuck up my sentence before you do that! And number two, I’m manager, owner, teacher, book keeper, accountant, cleaner, and general shit kicker of this school. DEAL WITH IT!
I just said “hai managgggaaaaaaaa desu” in a dull tone and with a cynical look on my face and he got a little bit flustered before going in to the shortest sales spiel ever about including the school on a map, but worded it in a way like I had no choice but to pay. This confused me so I asked him what map it was and he said it was the map up at the local convenience store down the road. It was ￥3500 a year to have the school on the map but he didn’t even say “Would you like to be on the map?” he just said “So that’s ￥3500 please.” I had no money with me (I actually didn’t but he looked at me like I was lying the presumptuous fucker) and I told him to come back tomorrow but I decided then and there that I didn’t like him and would ask Ryota if he thought it was worth it and decide. Of course when I asked Ryota we decided it was a waste of money, it’s not like someone will drop in to the conbini and be all “Ooo look there’s an English school down the road!” So I said I’d tell him I didn’t want to but I’d told him to come back for the money so felt a teeny bit bad.

So skip to today, he comes in with not even a smile or nice greeting and actually made it easier for me to say “Look, I know I said I’d pay yesterday but I talked to my husband and we really don’t need to be on that map, really sorry to put you to the trouble…” He gave me a filthy look as if to say “FUCK YOU BITCH!” and walked out with a mumble of “wakarimashita”. I was honestly shocked, if he’d been nice from the start, I guarantee I would have paid that money, in a second but just because he was a cunt I didn’t. What is wrong with some people!? Maybe he was a company man who’d been fired and this was his part-time job or something because he was really bad at sales! I just couldn’t believe he was such a cunt, it’s quite rare in Japanese sales people.

OK enoiugh moaning, I'll get to writing about my Turkish delight...

My random Peruvian shorty

2011-06-20T20:12:00.001+09:00

So after I woke up the next morning to empty cans and the smell of a guy being in my house and realized what had happened, I felt slightly ashamed of myself before hopping in the shower and washing away that shame to face a new day and all it’s new possibilities! Actually I probably wasn’t that ashamed at all at the time, now of course I feel a bit weird, but only because I’m literally like a nun these days!

I had plans to meet up with my friend who lived near me and her long(ish)-term Peruvian boyfriend. Now I didn’t want to be a third-wheel on their date but when she told me her boy was bringing a friend too I didn’t want a set-up kind of situation either (there’s no pleasing some people!). But S assured me that the friend was short, like REALLY short, so I wouldn’t be interested anyway. I don’t want to discriminate against short guys or anything, the problem is actually mine, I’m abnormally tall and the combo just doesn’t work well, it doesn’t work in bed, it doesn’t look right if you’re walking together (especially when you hold hands), and it just makes me feel like a big lanky giant. So, I avoid short guys, a little bit shorter than me is fine, just as long as it’s not noticeable.

We had planned to go to Kobe for the day of fucking around and eating Brazilian BBQ and we all crammed in to the car for an hour of the most mixed up conversation I thin I've ever had, this was the language make up of the people in the car:

A (S’s boy)- Speaks Spanish and Japanese
J (Shorty)- Speaks Spanish and limited Japanese
S- Speaks Spanish and English
Me- Speaks English and Japanese

So we didn’t really have a common language among us meaning that there was a lot of translating going on and muddled up lessons as A tried to teach me Spanish but I kept putting Japanese particles in between the vocab I knew in Spanish. I think my brain only has space for two languages maximum!
When we got to Kobe we did the usual shopping and purikura shite, I should have known something was going to happen when we took the purikura, as it was very couple-ish… But I’d had numerous chu-hais by that time and was so excited by the thought having a happy ending with all I could eat Brazilian meat shaved off the bone at my table by a hot Brazilian waiter that not much could have pissed me off that day. Fuck me I want to go to that restaurant again!!

We rode the roller coaster, well S and I did, the boys were big pussies and then got to the restaurant for dinner. My expectations were well drooled over and we ate meat and all the other goodies until we could hardly move, that’s when we switched to drinking spirits that wouldn’t make us any more full than we already were. This was dangerous as vodka and I have a rocky past and it’s been known to get me in to all sorts of trouble. If I’m ever arrested my only defence will be “It was the vodka officer!” We decided to go to a club and get really fucked up, we danced until we’d sweat enough to not feel so full anymore, and then we drank and drank until we were about to collapse. I’m not actually sure how much A drank, I know it wasn’t as much as the rest of us nut it was still incredibly stupid for him to drive the good hour and a half home… All vodka I swear! S and I literally lived less than a minute away from each other so they pulled in to her car park and the awkwardness of pairing off began. J said, well I think he did (it was in Spanish) “Where am I going to sleep!?” S’s apartment was SERIOUSLY small, like one of those half LDK kinda box joints where tall fuckers like me couldn’t even get in to the bathroom (if you could call it that) without smacking your knees. After a few minutes of drunken arguing it was decided J would come and stay at my house. I’ll be honest, the lack of communication and his shortness made me almost not screw him. VODKA!!!

Now this one I really have very little recollection of, but I remember him being better than old Shingo the night before. I seem to remember his dick being average sized and that he got me there without much assistance. Must be the Latino lover effect… He had a good smile and lovely hair and tickled my back until I fell asleep just like I love so he got a 7. Not mind-blowing but good enough! (he also lost points for shortness, sorry, harsh but true!)

He stayed until morning, we met A and S for a sheepish, embarrassing lunch where the boys gave each other the equivalent of linguistic high fives in Spanish and S and I gossiped as I retold my shame in English. I saw J a few times again but I managed to avoid the vodka and therefore sleeping with him again, he was a nice guy though!

And so the weekend was almost over. Almost…

My drive-by traffic signal

2011-06-17T20:08:00.003+09:00

I LOVE this blog! But every time I read it I get pangs of envy and maybe a pinch of regret that I am not single and having fun anymore.

My brain has been on overload lately, I often think about things too much and sometimes I just can’t stop obsessing with an idea in my head that it takes over pretty much any downtime my poor substance abused noggin’ can handle.

I think recently it’s been a combination of this, this and this post that have come together in some horrible gooey ball of ideas that I want to either have an affair, or leave my husband. Isn't that just horrible, random and shocking!?!

(P.S. If you know me in real life do me a favor and don't, like mention it to him in conversation or anything... Thanks!)

Of course as new ideas, events and other such shiny things are put in front of me I may forget this notion, but it’s strong at the moment. Re-inforcing my theory all along that I should never have gotten married so young and for all the wrong reasons. But... that shall be put on the back burner for the minute, as I re-visit my slightly more slutty yet ever so enjoyable past with a story from the single days!

The Peruvian, Japanese, Turkish weekend (Part I)

I’d like to say I’m a multi-cultural kinda gal and my boy toys were no exception, any nationality, skin colour, accent, I was open to just about anyone! (sexually explicit pun intended) I always avoided people I knew really well, like say, work colleagues. There were many reasons for purposely avoiding having ‘one night love’ with people I had to face the next week, for one, a lot of them were dipshit foreign English teachers. Nuff’ said… Another being the old ‘don’t shit where you eat’ kind of thing, I didn’t want to smear my reputation too much in the office. And the only other option were the Japanese office guys, who were either not worth it personality wise, or fun to flirt with, but more than likely duds in bed, plus they were all about 22 years old fresh out of university and hoping to clamber their way up the corporate ladder to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, otherwise known in Japan as a pension and 10 days holiday after working like a dog for 30 years. Not my type at all…

So to the big city’s clubs and bars are where I mostly found my lovers, it was fun, fuelled by copious amounts of alcohol and easily forgotten the next day if you could ignore your pounding head and desire to vomit up the ramen you ate at 3am on the way home the next morning.
There was one particular weekend that sticks out in my memory (I actually have a pretty good one people tell me) where it was a whirlwind of drinking, shagging and general craziness that left me completely exhausted.
Friday night~ I was walking home from the station when I saw a car slow down as it passed me and pulled in to the conbini near my apartment. I didn’t think it was that odd, not like back home where you’re scared a serial killer might drag you in to the car and torture you or anything but then I saw a young-ish (I have no idea how old he actually was) guy poke his head out the window and stare at me. Again, not that strange in a land of people who like to stare at whities, but enough to get my attention. I ignored him and went on my way but then the car came past me again and slowed so that he was looking at me and obviously wanting to talk. He was cute so I decided to be a bit of a flirt and said “Do you need directions” and he laughed and said in fantastically rubbish English “Yes! You house please!” Still, pretty smooth for a J-guy, I was instantly impressed.

I told him to go back to the conbini and I’d talk to him there, I totally intended to take him home but needed a little bit of well-lit talking time to make sure he wasn’t going to slice me up and eat me or anything. When I got back to the conbini he was inside buying cigarettes, I wanted to go in but I didn’t know him from a bar of soap, couldn’t really just rock up next to him, but I also wanted to buy beer for myself so made a drinking motion at him through the window and pointed to the back of the store at the fridges. He finally got it after much gesturing and got chu-hai instead, but it was alcoholic, that was all that mattered.
When he came out we sat in his car and drank and talked for a bit, he was determined to speak to me in English which set off gaijin hunter alarm bells but after we started kissing he gave up which was a big relief, nothing worse than being asked what the past tense of a verb is while you’re trying to give a blow job.
I’m not one for car shenanigans, I like my own house and all the comforts so I told him to ‘walk me home.’ I don’t remember if the conversation was that awkward but we laughed a lot, he told me his name was Shingo and I asked if he minded that his name just made me think of a traffic signal and he couldn’t stop laughing. I told him my name and he said Korea!? Korea!? Still, laughter is an aphrodisiac for me, I guy could be super hot but if he doesn’t have a sense of humour then I’m just not interested, so it was all good.
Once we got home I did my OCD ritual of teeth brushing and face washing while he drank and watched TV, and when I was finally ready we got to bed. The dirty details are a bit sketchy but I’d give him a 6 out of 10, he had a pretty small cock but didn’t really know what to do with it which was worse than the actual size issue. He must have been pretty young because he kept asking me for direction, which I was more than happy to give, but my Japanese wasn’t the best back then and I kept losing my moment because I was concentrating on what to say. It was also all over red rover pretty quickly AND I’d gone to the trouble of giving him head but ended up finishing myself off- fuck, now I think about it I change his rating to 5, he gets bonus points for being funny and sweet. He got dressed and started with the bullshit of… “Errr what’s your number…blah blah blah” but I was already tucked up in bed and mumbled that it was OK, I’d probably see him around some time at the conbini or something. Shocked or happy I’m not sure, but he left and I slumbered, having no idea I’d need all the sleep I could get for the next few days.

And for my Peruvian and Turkish stories, you’ll just have to keep reading!

Deep throat issues

2011-06-14T17:40:00.002+09:00

Because who doesn't love a bit of gross inflamed tonsil action on a Tuesday arvo!?

As you can clearly see from the inside of my mouth I have tonsillitis. Again motherfuckers! I seem to get this shit every month, and I don't even kiss random boys anymore, cheated!

It's only the right side too, which is weird, I went to the doc today and he actually called his colleagues over to look at my fucking huge right tonsil. I have to go to the city hospital on Thursday to see about getting the bastards out. Sooooo looking forward to that... On the plus side I can kill two old birds with one stone and visit Grandma at the same time who is in to get her cataracts operated on. What fun conversation that will bring I'm sure...

One good thing about having to work and drag my arse to the doctors today was that I stumbled upon a random dance school that I never knew was there, I love dancing and have wanted to take lessons for ages so I went and talked to the teacher who was just so delighted that a foreigner had graced her school, but I think she thought I was a way better dancer than I was letting on, when in truth I'm absolute rubbish! Meh, she'll get the picture when I'm stumbling around like an idiot with two left feet on Saturday.

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Side bar

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Inspired by other bloggers who are far less lazy than me I have decided to actually respond to all comments left.

If you ask me a question, I shall reply...

If you write something nice, I shall be forever in your debt and write equally nice things back...

If you write something mean, I shall hunt you down and beat you to a bloody pulp with my brass knuckles... Oh wait, I think that's someone else...

But seriously, I've never had a whack job make a horrible comment here, I feel quite left out!

OK, I have to go and talk with my favourite army student despite swallowing feeling like a hot poker is stabbing the back of my tonsils... No blow job jokes either, it hurts man!

Mess-up mothering Monday

2011-06-13T17:04:00.004+09:00

This could very well become a regular spot, I fuck up enough as a mother, but this weekend was particularly spectacular in the psychological damage I’m no doubt causing my son!

Mothering fuck-up #1- Teaching my son the game where you hold your breath when driving through a tunnel. Of course in my day and in my town, tunnels weren’t so bastard long! So after getting a bit dizzy myself and watching his face turn blue before bursting out in giggles, I realized that oxygen deprivation in game form is probably not the best education. Still, passes the time on long drives…

Mothering fuck-up #2- Leaving my slumbering babe in the car while I ducked in to tsutaya for a movie run. I know, I know, only irresponsible junkie types (or Japanese mothers) do that sort of shit. I have often seen kids alone in cars while mummy does her shopping and thinking how much I wanted to slap the mother, but it was pissing down rain, and he’d JUST fallen asleep, and I mean deep asleep as I pulled in to tsutaya. Plus it wasn’t hot or anything but as I searched for the movies I wanted the seconds seemed to be ticking in my ears as visions of cars slamming in to mine while Ash was trapped kept flashing in to my head. But as I sprinted back to my car I was relieved and am now happy to report that he was still snoring loudly and no cars were on fire in the vicinity.

Ryota and I spent the weekend fighting, spoke way too soon with the good behavior, must write those stories of twatism up when I have time. I shall leave you with reason #1 to have kids, there really aren’t that many, but they make it worth it when they do occasionally happen, until you are so distracted by shit that the driver is tickling and passenger is filming and you don’t notice the big arse fucking truck you’re about to slam in to... We survived anyway.

Foreign men.

2011-06-10T18:29:00.002+09:00

Foreign men in Japan have a notorious reputation for being absolute dickwads. There’s no getting around it, and from personal experience I’d say about 70% of the male foreign population I’ve come in to contact with have been pretty much that, or there is still a glimpse of the OK person they used to be, but in the land of pussy-houdai their head and ego have taken over their personalities to a point of no return. Saying that, a few of the closest foreign friends I’ve had have been blokes, but that has been the way my whole life, so maybe nothing to do with Japan. Since I’ve been married though, there hasn’t been that much opportunity for male foreign friends, so pretty much the only contact I have is with one guy I work with at the kindy and random gaijin I run into.

Now every foreigner who lives in Japan knows the awkward dilemma of what to do when you come in close contact with another gaijin. “Do I say hello? I don’t want to look all eager… But it doesn’t hurt to be friendly right..?” Questions like this often flash through my tiny little brain as I contemplate whether to ignore the foreign elephant in my presence, acknowledge it, or actually choose to interact with it. If it’s a foreign mummy, I’ll pretty much always say hello, because, you know, we have an equal respect for each other. When it comes to foreign Daddies, I find them to be very standoff-ish, like they’ve been caught out and can’t get away from you fast enough, I’m not really sure why, so I usually ignore the fucktard Daddies. If it’s a foreign woman alone, it’s tough, if they look friendly enough maybe I’ll say hi, but then, I have to think about the look on my face, Do I look friendly? Or like I wouldn’t be approachable…? It’s all a very complicated process! But when it comes to foreign men, they pretty much always ignore me, again it’s like they’ve been caught out impersonating a cool, hot guy but as we all know, the foreign woman is Charisma man’s kryptonite and will take him down if she discovers what kind of shit web he has been spinning in order to date hot Japanese women.

So after a while and a few crushes on foreign guys, I gave up. “Fuck em’!” pretty much became my philosophy on the whole matter. Until recently when I have come in to (not close enough for my liking) contact with 2, not 1, but 2(!) fuckable, friendly foreign men! Why aren’t you all like this?
The first guy I met when I was running, so highly sweaty and embarrassing, but I was jogging along this really long path and in the distance I saw what I thought might be a gaijin but sometimes your mind plays tricks on you, so I tried not to look too hard until he was close enough. Surely, when we were within eye contact range, he had a smile on his face, and it wasn’t a “I’m a fucking nutter” smile, or a “I want to sell you some religion!” smile, it seemed to be a genuine smile, and he was hot as well, almost unheard of!!! Of course I had ear phones in and I only slowed my jog to say a quick hello, but we got a quick pass by conversation in to establish he worked at the Mitsubishi factory (doing English type stuff I presume) near where I run. I will definitely be on the lookout for Mitsubishi man whenever I run from now on.

The second was kind of a bizarre meeting, I usually take Ash to kindy on my bicycle and go down a big arse hill, at the bottom of the hill they are building new houses at the moment and I always have a bit of a squiz to see if I can spot any hot construction dudes (I have a total soft spot for construction workers IN JAPAN, they seem to be old and fat in any other country). As I was scanning for macho man talent, a bare chest caught my attention, not for any other reason except J-guys usually never take their shirts off, it’s really not a thing you see much of. And as I suspected, when construction man turned around, he wasn’t Japanese! He looked a fair bit older and had the sexy Latino feeling to him so I thought he might be Brazilian. Just as I was drooling over him, my tyre busted on my bike (see whiney post) sending me in to a bit of a tailspin (literally). It was the total opposite of graceful and I made some sort of strange squealing noise like a small pig being slaughtered, I also had the misfortune of wearing a skirt that day so I’m sure my bright pink knickers were flashed quite freely to all the construction men who had looked over. A few of the guys closest to me wandered over and with a bit of a giggle still on their and lips informed me my bike was in fact, fucked. Gee thanks! The spokes of my wheel all over the place and my knicker flashing stack hadn’t indicated that at all!

Shirtless sex pot had somehow put a shirt on and had come over to look for any other spokes that had come off my bike and as I said thank you to the other useless dicks I looked at him and said “Obrigado…かな。。。” I didn’t want to just assume he spoke Portuguese but fortunately I was right, unfortunately he then started babbling in Portuguese to which I just said “Ahhhh, sorry!” like a big knob. (Note to self: Learn Portuguese). He gave me a sexy smile anyway and I was on my way. I’ve seen him a few days this week and always say hello so my man candy levels are up, and my faith in foreign men has been a teeny tiny little bit restored! Of course the recent troop of male Japan bloggers are also pretty cool, but you never really can tell someone’s level of dickhead until you actually meet them.

On a slightly related note, Ryota has been quite the model husband lately! Last weekend he got up before me, put a load of washing on, (seriously probably the first time ever seeing as though he used fabric softener instead of washing power, but it’s the thought that counts!) tidied up a bit and went and got McDonalds breakfast for us all so I wouldn’t have to slave over a hot toaster! My initial reaction was suspicion and unlike most women who might assume this sudden change in behavior means cheating, I suspect there will be some surfing related consequence, a new board/wetsuit, a trip away or something of that nature. Or who knows, maybe he is shagging some slapper, because his shagging techniques have totally improved too! I was dumbfounded last night when he actually tried to kiss me, I was so confused I did the whole head wobble thing and we ended up just cracking our foreheads and giggling but again, solid effort from the Ryo-chan meister! OK, enough of my sex life, I have to teach Junior high school kids and I don’t want to be thinking sexy thoughts for that.

Happy weekend all!

Paranoia...

2011-06-09T12:23:00.003+09:00

I’m thinking I smoked too much weed in high school because lately, I have this horrible sensation that I’m going to die. And yes, thank you, I know we’re all going to die some time just in case some smart arse would like to point that out (you know who you are!), but I mean die young. I can’t explain the feeling that well but it will be when I’m riding my bicycle and this image flashes over my eyes of a car coming out of a side street and hits me, and it’s so real that I actually squeeze on the brakes and go all wobbly! Or the other week I was driving home in heavy rain and I just kept imaging a car coming from the other side of the road and smashing in to me. Am I going insane?!

It may also have been fuelled by the fact that I was talking about palm reading with a student and she examined my hand and was all “Ohh, Corinne sensei, you have short line of life!!” and I was all “Ohhh, well, fuck then…”
If I died now I can’t say I’d have any regrets but you know, not quite ready to kick the bucket yet!

Palm readers, yoroshiku!

Or maybe this irrational fear is just the ghosts of my childhood coming back to haunt me. I was an incredibly nervous child. Like, I didn’t take any risks, at a really young age. I blame my parents and their constant fights that lasted all night while I lied in bed trying my hardest to block out the screaming, banging and name-calling that went on for hours. I would wake up tired and emotionally drained and I’m sure it well and truly fucked me up. I remember being in the first grade and staying up worrying about high school and what it would be like. In first grade! This little kid with big worry creases in her forehead, chewing on her teddy Bear's ear worrying that there’d be too much homework and I’d get lost in the halls. Damn, now I think about it there were all kinds of incidents indicating that I was a tad mental! I cried once for fear of being locked in a clothing store that was getting ready to shut because my mum was still getting stuff from the shelves when they pulled the shutters half-way down. I wet my pants in the 2nd grade in front of every fucker because I was having a stress attack about forgetting my assignment. You get the picture.

Along with the nervousness and fear was the fact that I never took any risks. Roller coasters- not a fucking chance (only the one time my sister bribed me with hot macadamia nuts, I’d do pretty much anything for that shit!), all theme park related fun was too risky for me, I was like a fucked up 50 year old stuck in a child’s body! I can honestly thank Japan for getting me over that though, or maybe it was getting out of my parent’s house…hmmmmm. “There's enough material there for an entire conference.” (Gold star to anyone who knows where that quote is from) Whichever it was, I managed to turn my nervous fears around the day I stepped on to the plane, and I was fucking terrified, I had the runs the whole way on the plane here, I was so insanely scared that I almost became numb and convinced myself that I could come back home if I wanted to. And technically I could have, but really I was forced to stay, at least for a bit. And after I got a taste of the fear, I was hungry for more. It was all bungee jumping and tattoos from then on, I was living on the edge, and I liked it! Not a dollar spent in therapy and all I had to do was grab the scary feeling by the balls and say “fuck it, I’m doing it!” the adrenalin (and some alcohol) does the rest.

So I think I need some thrill seeking, this is why I’ve been all paranoid about death lately, it’s been way too long since I’ve done something that would classify as 'on the edge'. I hadn’t even realized I’d been playing it so safe until the other night when I was teaching a Junior high school kid, who, don’t get me wrong, is a lovely boy. He studies hard and plays badminton and wrote me a beautiful New Year card that said he wanted to try hard to speak English this year, but he’s like every other robotic JHS kid here, boring. Boring people annoy me because it’s just so hard to make conversation with. I can forgive this in kids, the Japanese school system and little life experience make it almost impossible for them to go any other way and hopefully by giving them the freedom to express their opinion and actually think outside the “This is a pen” box when they talk to me, they’ll get better, but in adults, it really fucking pisses me off. Take for example the question: “What do you do for fun?” Valid question, if you answer it with “I like sleeping.” I will have images of smacking you in the head with a blunt object so you can be sleeping for a very long time. Of course this isn’t a realistic reaction, so I point out that I can’t go anywhere with that answer, plus sleeping is not a hobby, it’s a basic function, give me something, anything else! Anyway, the point I’m getting to, is this JHS kid has to ask me at least 3 questions at the start of every lesson and the other night he asked me “Where did you go last year?” And I thought about it…. And I realized I didn’t go anywhere. So I had to answer with “Ummm I went to Osaka…” In this little meek voice because I was actually thinking, ‘Fuck me dead I’ve become one of the boring cunts I fantasise about whacking in the head!’ OK, so I had valid excuses of an infant and new business, but it shouldn’t matter, I didn’t even go on a trip anywhere in Japan! So I have vowed that before the year is out, I will do something slightly risky, something that is pure fun and I will go on a trip overseas and a trip somewhere in Japan.

Because who knows, that mashed up life line could end tomorrow, and I’ll be fucked if I have to tell St. Peter that I was a boring cunt, he’ll never let me in to heaven!

Bugger!

2011-06-04T08:58:00.004+09:00

So, one of the best Japan bloggers invites me to his slammin' party, all his fantabulous readers click on over... Expecting 'crocodile sushi' content and are met with... A whinging excuse for a post including suicide and me moaning about... a bicycle! (see below, actually don't, it's really depressing...)

So to get that tom-fuckery off the top of my blog thought I'd write this. If you haven't been over to Loco's blog, and I can't see how you wouldn't have already, get there, right now! Not only is this guy funny/smart/deep/sexy/groovy/interesting, he's also an amazing writer with some amazing stuff about his experiences in Japan and all sorts of other topics, he really is one of the Kings of J-blogs and I'm honored he asked me to join the party. Thanks Loco!

We had dog-fucker's birthday party last night so when I get a chance I'll post that story plus by popular demand, some pictures of the star herself, in all her cuntish glory!

I'll leave you with a photo of me that shows me when I'm happiest: On a Sunday, drinking beer in the afternoon!

So you had a bad day...

2011-06-03T16:02:00.004+09:00

I remember listening to that song once when I'd been drinking for over 24 hours straight and thinking I wanted to kill myself.

Lovely!

Not quite that bad today, but definitely getting there.

It started with my bike tyre shitting itself, I blame my chubby son because the back wheel lost about 4 spokes when his lard arse plus my even lardier (word?) arse were riding to kindy. To a busy mum living in the semi-iinaka, her bike is her chariot, she needs it to do basically anything! So I walked home, sweat dripping down on to my shirt, and realised it wasn't a do-it-yourself fixing job just in time to dash off for my 9am lesson.
Lesson done and I walked the cunting bike to the nearest bike fixing shop, lady told me they would love to fix it but the spokes they had were the wrong size. Zannen. Fucking zannen indeed. Not only were the spokes fucked but the tyre was squished against the rim making it incredibly difficult to push! So, I walked the 20 minutes to the place where I brought the bike, I hate going there because the staff are always very unhelpful, but at least I knew they'd have the right sized spokes. Get there. Fucking closed!!! Opens at 11am. 11 cunting a mother-fucking m, what are the lazy bastards doing until 11am!? So I trudged back to another bike fixing store which I thought about going to in the first place but it's expensive so I try and avoid it and he told me he could do it but it would take a while. So I went and got my groceries and came back, stood there contemplating running home and getting shit done before I had to go and work at a local kindy but then got so indecisive about whether going home or waiting was the most time effective and just ended up waiting. Bike finally done, highway robbery complete and rode home with a few minutes to spare to grab my shit and get to the kindy.

Kindy lessons were fine, kids adorable. All good. day improving! Or so I thought...
Get back to my bike outside the kindy, and... where is the cunting key...? I thought it was in my pocket but no matter how many times I shoved my hands in there praying for it to magically appear, wasn't there. Sweat pouring for the umpteenth time I started to panic as next lesson at the school was only 30 minutes away (and I have OCD when it comes to being late). Finally I decide to check one last time before going back and searching the kindy (of 650 kids- fucking huuuuge, would have been impossible to find!) and one good thing about today, that little gleaming key was shoved in a side pocket. Fuck I'm dopey at times!

Get back home to de-sweat and re-deodorise and I check my phone to see 5 missed calls from an unknown number and dog fucker and think 'why the fuck is she calling me??' so go over to see and apparently, docile cunt that I am, had left the keys in the school door! What the fuck is wrong with me today?! Like what kind of idiot does that!? I think I might have been better off drunk and suicidal than I was today! Anyway, potential student came to ask about lessons and noticed the keys in the door, she went and got the lady who lives next to the school and the newspaper people from the other side and they knew where our house was (gotta love semi-iinaka sometimes) so dropped the keys over to dog fucker.

I immediately did a cookie run and bowed until I was sweating on the toes of my shoes to next door obachan (who ended up giving me onions in return, wtf?!) and newspaper people, then called the (extremely nice) student to apologise and schedule when I could start charging to speak English with her once a week, fuck best get cookies for her too when she comes on Monday...

Taught another lesson and went to get Ash, on the way home we bumped in to a Grandma and her little boy who had a big arse toy car that you can ride in and offered it to Ash. This was lovely but Ash DID NOT want to get out of it. I had another lesson to teach in 20 minutes, and again my stress levels were rising at the thought of being late, finally dragged him literally kicking and screaming out of the damn thing and left him with Grandma, but he was being a clingy little fucker and crying whenever I tried to leave. (reason number 459686700000 not to have kids).

Needless to say my nerves are shot, I feel sweaty and incredibly stupid, haven't eaten anything today and will possibly throw up on the kid due to arrive in 5 minutes.

Happy fucking Friday! Soooooo having a drink tonight!

Awkward...

2011-06-02T16:50:00.002+09:00

Yesterday marked one year that my school has been open. Thank the lord for not going bankrupt, wooooo!
I've learnt a LOT in the past year: About business, about Japanese marketing and how cute sells, about speaking Japanese, about how annoying my in-laws really can be, about myself, about teaching, about English, about juggling time and a whole lot of other crap that won't fit in my tiny brain so is sitting on standby in my left ear, ready to be fed in over the next few years!
I've had a truly great year, Ryota got a new (better) job, the school has never been in debt and is now making enough to give me a healthy salary. So a big FUCK YEAH! on that front!
I felt that I needed to celebrate with cake and made a cracker of a fresh cream and strawberry sponge yesterday in honour of the occasion. I've included pictures for all you closet Betty Crocker lovers!

I like baking, and I'm not all that bad at it, but the problem with being good at baking, is when you make something that gives you an instant orgasm when you bite in to it, is that you end up eating way too much of it yourself. Add spoon/beater/bowl licking and you have way too many calories that do not coincide with my plans to be super fit for my BFF's wedding and the skimpy bridesmaid dress that goes with it in August. So usually when I make sweets, I take them over to the in-laws and share them, not because I'm nice, just because I don't want to get too fat!!

So yesterday I toddled over with my cake which looks exactly like a Birthday cake, and dog-fucker (who we still haven't really talked to since the Hokka ben incident) got all excited, not because the dog had a hard-on, but because she thought I'd made the cake for her. Ooops... I'd completely forgotten her birthday is tomorrow because, well, I really don't care!

She peered at it and said "Ehhhhh!? Did you make me a cake!?" And before it got too awkward or my instincts to lie kicked in I said "Ummmm, actually it's for the school, your birthday isn't till Friday!"

This fucks me right over as now I have to make a cunting cake for her tomorrow! Maybe I'll just save a piece of the school cake and give it to her...

It also leaves me with the dilemma as to what to get her. I don't really like her, but I'm like the birthday queen around here and seeing as though I'm the only one who makes a big deal about them always make a point to get everyone presents. (Plus, let's face it, I get loads of loot come my birthday in November)

I have no idea what to get her, I looked for a copy of the book, "How to stop fucking your dog and be a normal member of society" but they were all out... Any suggestions?!

Is this wrong of me?

2011-05-31T17:55:00.004+09:00

Because students think it's hilarious in a 'you're-such-a-bad-wife!' kind of way...

The picture that should be on my desk at work...

The picture that is on my desk at work...

Whaa?

Wow, I'm so fat in that picture, I really should update it and find myself a real hottie to pose with me!

She's baaaaaaa-aaaaaaccccckkkk!!

2011-05-29T15:42:00.002+09:00

Ohhhh yeah, my dog fucking sister-in-law has been unusually normal lately, it’s been worrying me. I could compare her to that big arse volcano that spews ash every so often just to fuck up everyone’s lives, spluttering shit and filth everywhere she goes while instilling a shudder-inducing fear in all she comes in contact with that one day she might just blow, and who knows what her fucked up demons are capable of! Maybe it’s a summer thing, it was last summer that she went mental over me taking the piss out of Kimutaku…

It all started with me being lazy. Wait…that is how most of my days start… OK, so on this particular day, I had loads of lessons and couldn’t be arsed cooking so I made no false illusions of being a good housewife, I just said to Ryota as he walked out the door: “Can’t be arsed. Dinner. Hokka ben!” And he got the drift as he rushed out, ciggie in mouth he made some noise that probably was “OK desu!” Ryota can be a whinging, lazy fucker at times but he never questions Hokka Ben, he loves that shit! For those not in Japan or not aware of the awesomeness of Hokka Ben, it’s a home delivery (or take-out) place that serves bentos, which are good because they have rice and fish and all that shite for the J-peeps, but enough deep fried goodness to keep us mouthy foreign folk happy too. It’s cheap, easy, our delivery guy is totally fuckable and I can order my meals without carb laden rice, pure genius! Anyway, that was that so when I got home at about 7, Ryota was at Grandma’s house (because god forbid he would watch our son by himself and all), looking through the Hokka ben menus. I always get the nori special minus rice so I was decided, and after I’d announced my order, Grandma was all, “Hmmm, nori special”…. *Homer Simpson drool* Grandma is a bit of a foody and we spent the next 5 minutes saying how much we love the nori special, although she told me I couldn’t possibly eat it without rice.

During this time the dog-fucker had been rummaging through something in the other room, but you know when people are pissed off and you can tell because they are banging everything down and making noises and stuff? Yeah, well, she was doing that in between making kissy noises at the dog (no exaggeration there either!). I had a feeling in my waters that shit was going to go down, and as Grandma announced that she too would have Hokka Ben, dog-fucker grabbed the chance and said “What the fuck, I made you bean rice, eat that!” And she said it in a really rude, short way too. Now this may seem super mean to be saying to a Granny, but our Grandma isn’t the tea and scones type Granny, she’s a tough old thing and it didn’t phase her a bit, she shot back with “Yeah, well, Hokka ben sounds better, and who knows, I might be dead in a few weeks, I’m going to live life on the edge and get Hokka ben!” I wanted to give Grandma a high five but I was afraid I might snap a bone or two so I reveled in the moment by sitting down and settling in for the rant I knew was coming from dog-fucker.

And we weren’t disappointed, she started going on about the fact that she’d made it special and if she’d wanted Hokka Ben she wouldn’t have bothered blah blah blah. Let’s just back it up a bit shall we dog-fucking lunatic, 1) It’s bean rice, it’s washing some beans, throwing them in a machine with rice, and pressing a button, not exactly a 5 course gourmet meal! 2) If Grandma wants to eat shit, let her, I’m sure the bean rice will get eaten tomorrow! And 3) It’s fucking bean rice, shut the fuck up!!!
I had all these great responses Grandma could have given swirling around my head like, “Yeah well, it did you good to get off the dog’s cock and do something with all your free time!” and “At least go fuck a respectable dog like a Lab or retriever, leave the Yorkshire terrier alone you ugly whore!” But alas, I kept my trap shut as Grandma is quite capable of holding her own and I would have been frustrated with the lack of swear words in Japanese and just ended up screaming, “YOU CUNT!!!” at her anyway.

Ryota however, is not as good as keeping his mouth shut as me, plus he has the added advantage of being able to form stinging insults in Japanese, and that he did. Well not as stinging as I’d hoped for, but something to the effect of, ‘Fucking hell, if she wants to eat Hokka Ben then what is it to you? You’re not her fucking keeper!” And she went off. Her. Nut. You know when old Japanese dudes get really angry and they roll their tongues on the ‘r’ words? Well she was that pissed that she was doing that as she spat all over the place screeching like the fucking fruit loop that she is. Ryota and I started giggling and I said (in English) “Ooooo it’s been a while since we've had a psychotic episode!” To which she got even more pissed because she didn’t know what it meant but knew it was directed at her and told us both to fuck off. We left the house with the stupid cunt ranting away and Grandma telling her to shut the hell up. When the Hokka ben arrived I delivered it to Grandma, making a point of saying loudly how good it was going to be as dog-fucker continued her pot-banging protests in the kitchen.

Grandma offered to pay for all our dinners but I insisted I shout her, it was the least I could do for such quality entertainment.
Dog-fucker hasn’t talked to us since, I’m, hoping this continues for at least another month or two.

So an Aussie, a Scotsman and a pumpkin head walk in to a bar...

2011-05-26T18:14:00.002+09:00

You know, I always say to myself “I got married too early… I wasted my time in Japan before I was married…” But thinking back, there was actually some fucking crazy shit I did, and not just a bit, like a LOT of stuff. I never thought of myself as that much of a, hmmm, what’s the best word for it…? Oh yeah, SLUT. But I really was a right little tart back in the day! So, without further ado, I give you the story of the Scottish tourist, who I didn’t actually fuck, so slut status stays intact, just a little tarnished perhaps…

It was a cold Saturday night and I’d gone out with a guy who I had a nice little arrangement with. We would both go to dinner where we would stuff ourselves with meat and beer and then on to the club together, drink ourselves stupid and then try and pick up someone for the night, if one of us picked up and the other didn’t there was no guilty bullshit, (one of the reasons I love going out with guy friends over girl friends) we bid each other goodbye and good luck and went home. We never slept with each other, that would have been weird, for a variety of reasons I won’t get in to here.

Anyway, it was the kind of cold where you just wanted to get out of the wind and drinking something that was going to warm you up, and sure enough, we went to the club early to avoid the crowds and secure a seat that we could keep for a while. We chatted and took turns dancing and flirting and ended up running in to his ex-girlfriend who tried to throw her drink at him because she thought he was with me. (How ironic!) She got kicked out of the club but my mate was obviously not feeling too crash hot so we decided the only way to get him back in to the drunken groove was to do three shots and go pick up. We did and we both ended up kissing people on the dance floor. He had a skanky little piss head wearing a skirt smaller than my hankie and I wasn’t quite sure who I’d scored, because a) I was beyond drunk, b) we were dancing with him behind me and c) There were so many people squished on that damn dance floor that I couldn’t see my feet let alone the dude that was groping me. I did discover however, that he was a fucking amazing kisser. I didn’t want to do anything else but kiss him. I honestly haven’t found Japanese guys to be that good with the old smooch, I can safely say that Ryota is crap, we haven’t kissed (properly) since we’ve been married! But this guy was awesome and I loved every minute of it.

We stayed kissing and dancing for a good 2 hours and before I knew it, the lights were on and mumbles of first train were going on. My mate waved bye with his almost unconscious girl on his arm and tossed me the key for our locker giving me a vague signal that I instinctively knew was ‘fuck my jacket, I just want to shag this bird before she passes out!’ As I too contemplated what was going to happen with my kissing God I stopped to properly look at him and was a little bit taken aback, because he seriously had a huge head. And I’m not exaggerating like when Japanese people claim certain people have big or small faces, I’m talkin’ his noggin was a fucking pumpkin! But still, as my dad used to say (and it grosses me out that he did!) “You don’t have to look at the mantelpiece while you’re poking the fire” His kissing genius made up for head size and I was ready to go. We walked hand in hand up the stairs and he was very quiet while checking his phone as we came upstairs to daylight and mobile phone reception. His hand went limp as his phone started beeping and vibrating incessantly and he went a shade whiter as he scrolled through text messages frantically. I knew then that he was either married/had a girlfriend, and he was in deep shit. He didn’t have to make any excuse, I made it easy for him as he called the lady who obviously wanted his balls on her wall, I slinked away, tired anyway I was actually looking forward to a nice hot shower and my bed.

I started stumbling to the nearest train station and passed the crowd that always lingers outside the club when I was approached by 3 drunk guys wanting to know where the next good place was. They were all Scottish and here on holiday with no idea where they were, where their hotel was or where they could go next. Actually, 2 of them just wanted to get back to the hotel, 1 of them wanted to keep partying. So I gave them directions to their hotel and told the party boy if he wanted I’d go to another club with him, the one that was open till 10am. He was keen and despite his mates telling him he was a fucking lunatic, he was up for it. We chatted on the way to the club and he told me his brief life story, but honestly, I wasn’t really listening, I couldn’t get past the sexiness of his accent, big head’s kiss was still in the back of my mind but the sexy accent had taken over. Scottish men, no matter how ugly, get me every time, I’m such a sucker for them!

We got to the club, paid our ridiculous entry fee and grabbed a drink, I switched to cassis berry drinks, breakfast should be fruits after all. He wanted to dance and I had just enough energy but I was a little disappointed that the music would drown out his accent. We danced for a while and I saw a Japanese gaijin hunter type eyeing him off. Not that he was mine or anything, but still, fucking bitch didn’t know that, yet she just starts hunting on him in bad “cute” English. I was tempted to start dancing with another guy but the guy was on holiday and between the music, her crap English and the fact that unlike those of us who live here he couldn’t interpret what she was saying at all. He gave me desperate looks that said “HELLLLPPPP!!!” so I joined the conversation much to gaijin hunter’s annoyance I’m sure. She gave up after it was clear she was just going to be talking to me but I have to admit, she was pretty hot and I’m sure he wanted to fuck her, communication barriers or not. So as we started dancing together, getting closer and closer, and he whispered (OK shouted) in my ear in that accent, I couldn’t resist, I had to kiss him, just to see. And it was… an amazing disappointment. I still yearned for pumpkin head and his magic mouth!
After I realized that if only this guy could kiss as good as pumpkin head I would have taken him home and made sweet Scottish dirty talk love to him all… err… day, I just couldn’t pretend anymore. So I told him he should go get the Japanese girl, I was going to go home. I think that’s what he really wanted anyway and what kind of cultural experience would the poor guy have if he came to Osaka and ended up shagging an Aussie club rat!? I gave him a few pointers on what to do with the J-girl making sure he knew not to give her any personal information, poor bloke would probably end up with crazy J-girl at his door if he wasn’t careful…

He thanked me, gave me a big Scottish hug and a wink, and I went home to that empty bed, but I was happy.

She ain't heavy...

2011-05-24T17:45:00.002+09:00

She's my (J) sister.

I think a lot of foreign women living in Japanland can get very bitter towards Japanese women, I'm not really sure why, I mean we're all in this man's world together, we shouldn't really turn on each other. But we're women. We always do.

And I admit, when I came to Japan, after a few months of not getting laid, not even getting hit on, while watching my male foreign friends drooling over cutesy Japanese girls, I too came to hate the pigeon-toed enemy. I would dismiss any good-looking Japanese girl as a "cutesy fucking bimbo with a vagina" and mocked my male friends for hitting on them as I numbed the jealousy with another shot of vodka washed down with a beer. And sometimes it really was true, these girls were as dumb as dog shit but made up for it with meticulously curled hair, sparkly nails and strategically placed bits of cloth masquerading as clothes. It drove the boys wild! Well, until they went all psychotic J-girl on them, then they were on to the next one to do it all over again. I remember a mate telling me that a girl had taken him to a ryokan and put on hot lingerie under a kimono, made him unwrap her and then gave him a blowjob on her knees, how the fuck can us self-respecting western gals compete with that shit?! I went for at least a year of going drinking with friends, eating at saizeriya with my girlfriends, or watching bad TV in my room. Not a boy, not a tongue, not a shag in sight.

Now I think about it though, I wasn't actually all that concerned. I'd had my heart ripped out and stomped on by an ex-boyfriend before I came to Japan and I'd taken a vow of man hate anyway, but still, not so good for the self-confidence. I once had an argument with a cheery, positive Irishman at a bar because I told him I would never get married and anyone who did was a fucking moron, ohh if only Irish boy could see me now... He was so upbeat and told me I'd believe in true love again one day, to which I replied, "You would say that in the land of pussy-hou-dai!" I was tipsy at the time but I still loved that lovely mix of foul language, Japanglish and pure insult.

But the tables were turned on me once I married a J-boy. Did Japanese girls see me as their enemy now?? I had taken one of their own... I only ever had to think about this once, when I went to a drinking party/reunion of Ryota's with all his old school buddies, including his ex-girlfriend. The ex was a typical cutesy moron: skinny, sparkly and whiny. She didn't talk to me all night, gave me dirty looks over the one drink she clutched all night for fear of hurling up her diet pills if she had more than a sip of alcohol and made an effort to totally exclude me from all conversations that she entered with the only 2 other girls there. Not that I gave a flying fuck, I was drinking beer, eating meat and hearing stories about Ryota in the days I didn't know him, it was fun. It wasn't until I drank enough to go over to the little huddle of girls to talk that it really became apparent that she wanted to stab me with a meat skewer. The other girls were delighted that I would make an effort to talk to them and got all giggly and just had to take pictures with me. (What am I, fucking santa claus?!) They all huddled in and got one of their boyfriends to start snapping pics when suddenly the ex-girlfriend said "I have to go to the toilet!" and got up to leave, the other girl shrieked after her, "WAIT! JUST ONE PICTURE!!!" But she was gone. I'm not really sure why she hated me so much, although after Ryota dumped her she started dating his mate who is a bit of a loser, so maybe she was just bitter...

It was the first time I'd been on the receiving end of any of that kind of animosity, it didn't really bother me, but I guess it did make me think I should give J-girls a chance before I judge them on the sparkliness of their nails or the height of their hair like I usually do. So these days I'm a bit more chilled out and don't take the piss out of Japanese girls. OK, I still do, but not with half as much malice as before, got to instill some love and peace life lessons in the offspring after all.

Saying that, the fucking girl on the cunting morning news show that reads the weather with the mother fucking rabbit and plays the keyboard still makes me want to slap the plastered smile off her face!

OK, must work on the peace and love...

Safe!

2011-05-21T15:22:00.003+09:00

There is no way the previous post is getting 50 comments any time soon, but thanks to all you perverts who did comment! Just kidding, thank you for all the advice and thoughts on kids and titties, glad I'm not alone on both counts!

Here is a g-rated pic, (plus a few more randoms) showing my bra that is too big...

SEE!!!!

Instagram is cool! It's like a microwaveable art form, damn why did I spend so much money on that expensive fancy camera, could have downloaded it for free.
Apologies to Kathryn, yes, I've joined the hoards of wankers with an iPhone thinking I'm artistic. :)

Let's happy weekend!

The 'B' word...

2011-05-20T17:35:00.005+09:00

Bitch? Bastard? Balls? Ball bag licker? Bint? Bollocks? Bimbo? Biddy? Bed wetting?Backdoor bandit? Bleeder? Bag of douche? Bumf? Blubber? Beef curtains? Bum fluff? Bell end?

No. Much worse than all of those combined.

B stands for… baby.

*insert terrified shriek here*

You’d think that I hate kids, (especially my own!) the way I talk sometimes, which is actually totally not true, I mean it’s moments like this…

And this…

That make my days worth it. But another baby added in to the mix of my life just does not sit well. Ryota is happily convinced that after my besty’s wedding in August I will throw caution and my pill to the wind and go on a baby-making shag fest so that we can bring another bundle of joy in to our already complicated lives. Not happenin’ buddy. Ryota wants at least 2 kids, 3 if he can twist my arm, and in theory, so do I.
In a perfect world where money grows on trees and kids don’t make you fat and have to be pushed out of your vagina and they don’t need attention 24/7, sure I’ll have a whole army!
But seriously, apart from all the selfish and materialistic reasons I don’t want another baby, (just yet anyway) I’m thinking about the practical reasons, one reason actually, the school.

I run a small English school where I am the only teacher, finding a replacement teacher to work for 2 or 3 months would be very hard and the rent is too expensive to consider just closing for the time I’m bleeding so profusely from my gash that I won’t be able to teach. So the practicalities of having another small person attached to my boobs for a few months while juggling work and a toddler are just not workable in my eyes. I’m hoping the school gets bigger so that we actually need to get another teacher in to help, that way they could just take over if I needed to take a break. Not likely to work out so perfectly, but definitely a possibility in the future.

But if I’m being honest with myself, the practical reasons could always be worked around, we’d always manage with money, the selfish, shallow reasons however… not so easily solved.

Top 5 selfish reasons I don’t want another baby…

1) I don’t want to get fat (again).
2) I don’t need any more stretch marks on my road map belly.
3) Babies are noisy. And time consuming. And shit and eat all day and night.
4) I don’t want to be the primary care-giver again. Tried it once, sent it to kindy.
5) I don’t want to stop running.

So there you are, I could bleat on about “not being ready” or any other bullshit excuse, but the truth is, I don’t want to mess up my life. My life is good, I’m loving it and another baby would seriously throw a spanner in my happy works. It makes me feel slightly guilty but I figure if I’m not happy then nobody else around me is going to be either, so really I’m doing them a favor!

I feel a bit bad for Ash, it would be nice for him to have a play mate and a good lesson for a newer, cuter baby to take all the limelight off him, but he’s just going to have to wait a few more years. Me and my sister are 5 years apart and although we almost punched the living shit out of each other on many occasions, we also played games and made imaginary worlds together, that shit is not separated by 5 years. And now we don’t even feel the 5 year difference, in fact I’m the one settled down with a family and business while she’s still dancing around barefoot at concerts and travelling. You just never can tell how things are going to turn out.

The point of this post? I’m shit scared of having another baby, I want one more but I wish it didn’t interfere with my life so much. What do you think, am I being too selfish?? Do you know where my maternal instincts have disappeared to?? How many years between siblings is good??

Yoroshiku ne…
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oh, and another word that begins with B… BOOBS.

I have boob issues at the moment, set-off by Ryota hassling me that I had no tits. I argued I was wearing a C cup bra but he then pointed out that it was all loose and too big for me therefore making me a B cup. To my horror, when I took it off it was a B, making me… an A?!?! In the chubby days I was a freaking generous D! But fat tits are not the same as big tits and I’ll take being thinner any day, but still! What the fuck is going on? I totally need a boob job.

Ryota took a surprise snap of me in only my pants and I just couldn’t stop looking at my boobs, or lack of. I wish I could share the photo, but it’s SO bad, as in, gut sticking out, (I’d had yakiniku) weird scared puppy dog look on my face, and, well, my pathetic boobs…

Here’s the deal, I’ll post the picture if this post gets… 50 comments, if not, my dignity stays intact. It’s like a giveaway where the prize is shaming me! And no anonymous bullshit, has to be a comment from a blogger, or at least a convincing real person!

Stuff... and stuff

2011-05-16T17:39:00.004+09:00

Wow, it’s been a week since I wrote anything, sorry I know you’re all just shaking in your panties in anticipation for the next installment of my terribly exciting life. But I’ll have to disappoint and give you a bullet point round-up instead…

*It’s quite handy having an annoying, old meddling woman in your life (Grandma) because sometimes you can blame your own bad parenting on them. Took Ash to kindy the other day and the little bleeder discovered a hidden treasure candy from god knows when on the floor in the car. As I knew taking it off him would involve a headache, snot and tears at 8am (and that would just be me) and because he asked me so nicely by saying “Please-Mummy-Dadda-Open-OK!!!!” (Smart lad covering his arse from all directions already) I caved and gave him the damn lolly. This resulted in a happy, quiet child but the thing was still in his gob when we got to kindy and his teacher said “Ashton!!! Why are you eating candy at this time of the morning!?” with a side glance at me and without a thought I peered in to his mouth and said “Ohhhh are you eating candy!? That grandma of ours!!! Tut tut tut!” I love that I can still do this, in no time Ash will be calling me out on that shit I’m sure. Still, for all of Grandma’s crap I put up with I feel this is only fair.

*The school has been open for one year coming up next month and I couldn't’t be happier at how it’s going. I not only have a solid income but I have students that I genuinely care about! I love that I know what they’re doing in their lives, it’s so much easier to teach something like English conversation (which can be mind-numbingly frustrating, see this post!) when you actually give a fuck.
However…I still feel under appreciated in the family bread-winner stakes. Without rent, I make about the same as Ryota now, not that it’s a competition or anything, but fuck, surely an equal salary should be grounds for a bit of respect. Take today, for example. Ash has a funky chesty thing going on and the poor little bugger is really wheezing, I instantly decided he wasn’t going to kindy, despite the fucked up Japanese fever rule where he can go if he’s struggling to breathe but not if he has a fucking fever. Twats. Anyway, I had lessons on and off all day and asked Grandma if she (or her 2 lazy cunts of grandchildren) could watch him in between my lessons. I can go home when I’m not teaching but especially on Mondays I don’t have time to do much else, the longest break I had was from 2pm-4pm which is exactly the time Doctors must be watching porn in their offices or something because they’re all shut for the “lunchtime” break, lunchtime my arse, doesn’t take 5 fucking hours to eat lunch! So I couldn't take him to the docs and of course nobody would even think to ask Ryota if he could take time off, all that guilt was piled on me. I could have blown off lessons, I know the students would understand, but when you’re running a small school where you’re the only teacher, it’s really best to avoid cancelling on people. It turned out in the end because MIL had the afternoon off and took him.

*Mother’s day disaster was made up for this weekend!! It was a really fucking good weekend actually! Ash was healthy for the whole 2 days, Ryota and I got in a very nice shag on Saturday night, I got to go to Top Shop to browse clothes and we went back to the same restaurant as last week and enjoyed fucking amazing Thai food. The staff remembered us and looked shocked at Ash and said “Ohh he’s so happy today!!” Read: “Wow who knew he wasn’t a demonic little fucker!” I’m so glad we did go back, it’s rare for Ash to scream uncontrollably as he did last week and I’m not prone to bawling at cash registers either, so good food and times were had by all.

*Blogger obviously shit itself quite badly this week and a comment from my last post was deleted. It was an anonymous unhelpful kind of comment so not too fussed but did actually want to respond to it... It went something like "What did you expect, you married a Japanese guy!?" But the fact is, a lot of Japanese guys, and certainly Ryota was totally more romantic when we were dating, so I didn't expect the romance to die when the inkan was still wet, I got fuckin ripped off! A student explained to me there's a saying in Japanese that I can't exactly remember that goes something like, "2 eyes wide open before marriage, 1 eye closed after marriage." Which I suspect is more in reference to wives letting their husbands cheat after they're married but the same principle applies for all aspects of marriage I feel.
I also wanted to respond about Aussie guys being just as fucked up romantically as Japanese guys and the bra question... OK, I really have to devote a separate post to those, will get on it!

*I have a student who I totally want to do. Let’s call him… “Mr Inspiration” He’s very in to motivational speaking and the power of positive thinking. I really shouldn’t fuck him, apart from the fact that we’re both married, he went to school with my MIL. Which makes him quite old but within my limits, which are from legal to my Dad’s age but he’s not even that good looking. Just, I don’t know, charming I guess. He also lived in Europe and the UK for ages so likes to take the piss out of Japanese people which is quite funny. What's your age limit for too young and too old??

Right, that’s all that comes to mind at the moment, have to go and do some work!

Mother's day- fuck you hard in the arse Japan!

2011-05-09T18:22:00.005+09:00

So... yeah, you can probably tell by this post's title that Mother's day pretty much sucked balls.

Again.

I'm one of those people who clings to hope, it's usually a good thing, keep the positive thinking and all that bullshit, but when those hopes are dashed and you feel that familiar feeling of sheer disappointment crush you like an avalanche of misery, not so good.
My first Mother's day was the worst, I had high hopes and Ryota did nothing. But to be fair to him, it was pure cultural difference, he just had no fucking clue that the husband is supposed to make as much effort as the kids. It seems popular for J-men to say things like, "But you're not my mother..." And this is true, but to this I say- "No, but I cook your food and clean your house and I let you get your end in just so that 9 months later I could rip my vagina down to my arsehole in order for our son's head to poke out... Not to mention the sleepless nights, bitten nipples, stretch marks, impossible-to-move belly flab, 1000's of shitty nappies..." I think it was at this point that Ryota got it and stopped my tirade. Plus it's not like it's ALL about mummies, despite not doing half as much of the work (labor counts for at least three quarters in my opinion) we still have Father's day!

So the first was an epic fail... the second... I can't remember, so it can't have been that good or bad, possibly a present that I vaguely wanted. This year Ryota flat out asked me what he should do and I told him I honestly only wanted clothes and I wanted to pick them myself, so we should do a trip to my favourite clothing store in Osaka and I'd buy me some rags, then we would go for a Mother's day lunch. He liked this, he knew exactly what he had to do, although I put conditions on this, I told him the restaurant was to be his choice and a surprise for me. He had to think about somewhere I'd like to go, not where he wanted to go. Seriously, do I really have to spell this shit out, it ain't that hard! I thought he might go for Indian or Mexican as I love spicy food, but he actually did excel himself and found one of the top Thai restaurants in Osaka, and even better, it was a buffet lunch, that's a lot of coriander laden spicy goodness!

This should have worked really well. Except it didn't.
The day started off without a "Happy Mother's day" which isn't a big deal but still pisses me off all the same. I need to show him a Troy McLure style video so he gets the whole Mother's day deal. I also then had to make breakfast, because if I don't, no other bastard will. When Ash is tall enough he'll be trained but for now, all me. I went running, and we left in the car. All was going well and we made it to my favourite shop, where they had nothing I liked. This sucked but wasn't that big of a deal. Next it was on to the restaurant and as soon as the whiff of lemongrass and jasmine hit my nose I knew the boy had done well. We opened the heavy wooden door to the chorus of Thai greetings and my stomach almost turned inside out I was so hungry. About the same time, Ash started screaming. And didn't stop. FOR 20 FUCKING MINUTES!!!! Happy fucking mother's day!

I despise screaming children, mine or others, now I have a child myself I'm a little more sympathetic but I was always one of the people giving dirty looks and whispering, "Someone should smother that kid" to my dining partner. NOTHING could stop him screaming, I pulled out every trick in the bad parenting book: iPhone, movie, toys, food, candy. Nope, not having it. The staff also were desperate to shut him up and brought out a huge ice cream with umbrellas in it but he just screamed even louder. I think he was hot?? But who fucking knows. So Ryota scoffs down his food while I take my screeching, sweaty offspring outside away from all the evil eyed diners and staff. 10 minutes later he tells me to come back in and enjoy the meal. Again, lovely offer, but it wasn't happening. My stomach was in knots from the stress of it all and I couldn't relax knowing he was outside with Ash, plus, what mother wants to eat lunch alone on Mother's day!? So as the tears started to stain the rustic napkin in front of me, I decided it was useless and got my stuff ready to leave. I also felt that the whole restaurant was looking at me, but this may be paranoia on my part, but I guess a foreign woman with unstoppable tears and noisy child doesn't really blend in that well eh.

As I paid the bill the staff tried to console me and told me to come again but I was full on crying by this time and just looked down and kept saying sorry. So I paid for 3 but only Ryota ate anything. When I got to the car with tears streaming down my face I expected to be yelled at by Ryota for crying like usual but he did take pity on me and say "Are you OK??" which was a pretty good present I guess. Ash slept the whole way home so maybe he was just tired and I felt very... deflated. I shouldn't have been angry at Ryota because honestly the flop of a day wasn't his fault, but he hadn't done anything extra special and it made me feel like shit. Ryota's lack of romantic gestures is probably the thing that will eventually lead to our divorce if anything does, it really gets me down! I then had to make dinner for us all, because again, if I don't... blah blah blah.

Meh, at least they're cute...

Fuck it, if I have to do the washing up myself, I WILL get trashed and wallow in self-pity!

The fact that Ryota looked like a transvestite almost made up for things!

Weirdo nudist...

Still, I'm allowed one day of bratty sadness and have decided that today is a new day and I live in Japan, I have to make sacrifices on the romantic/holiday gestures, it's just the way it is. So I sucked it up and grabbed today by the balls. The sun is shining, I'm fighting fit and I have a year to train Ryota for next Mother's day!

Your cheatin' heart

2011-05-06T17:39:00.005+09:00

I've never cheated in a relationship before, not because I have some strong moral stance on the issue of cheating, well, maybe I used to but I find my moral fibre seems to be stretched very thin these days...
But just because if I ever was going to cheat I think I would have broken up with them first. The same with my partner cheating on me, if I found out that Ryota was cheating I'd probably say: "Bummer..." or something similar and actually be thinking 'Fuck it, this is going to be a lot of paperwork...' Plus who would want to be a single parent, I have a hard enough time when there's two of us, I'd go bonkers if I was on my own. So yeah, for those reasons, I'd hope he wouldn't cheat on me, and depending on my quality of life at the time, I may just turn a blind eye to it and go find my own fuck buddy.

I've heard and seen first hand some horror stories of jealous Japanese girls going absolutely mental at the slightest hint that their boyfriend may be cheating on them. They're lovely stories to hear, especially from your foreign friends, when you can buy them a beer and say "Should have stuck with us foreign women mate!" I once met a friend for lunch who showed me his back and stomach absolutely covered in scratch marks because his Japanese girl found a mail in his phone that made her think he was cheating, (he wasn't) and she then tried to jump out the window after he told her she was an absolute jealous psycho. Another friend tried to break up with his girlfriend and she grabbed a golf club from his genkan and started to beat him around the head with it in a psychotic rage. I had a friend have to stay with me for a week because his long-term girlfriend had found a mail in English (she didn't speak a word) and thought it must have been a cheating mail, she'd chased him out of the apartment with a kitchen knife and had also threatened to jump off the balcony in psycho-J-girl-style. These are all women who I've met, two I'm friends with. Tiny, cute, harmless-looking Japanese girls who come up to my knee caps who totally fuck you up if they think you're cheating on them.

So J-girl stories don't surprise me, I've heard a lot. But I was more than a little surprised when recently I discovered my own sister has been having cheating issues of her own and had released her inner J-girl on her boyfriend. I got a mail from her a few weeks ago in the middle of the night saying that she hated men and wanted to run away to Japan. Hmmmm... My sister and I are close enough but we don't often inform each other of the juicy details of each other's lives, we just forget or are too lazy to email. So I knew that this must be serious. I sent back supportive sister comments and knew it was too raw to ask her what had happened and decided to get the gossip from my dad, who was bound to dish, as opposed to my mum who would surely add boring details or get distracted from the juicy details by asking to blow kisses at Ashton.

So Dad dished, and it turns out that silly boyfriend didn't erase his history on his computer, the very first rule of porn or dating site surfing, even I know that! My sister then found he'd been looking at dating sites and had actually made a profile. I also discovered that when she'd found out she woke the poor bloke up by smashing their dinnerware collection at the wall, with fragments getting him in the head. Very J-girlesque! At least she didn't threaten any balcony jumping, but still...
I heard her reaction before his crime and was sure she must have found him in bed with a skanky hoe, but I was like, "Is that all?? He didn't actually physically fuck anything??" My dad was a bit taken aback by my blunt question, but replied, "No, not as far as we can tell..."
To me, this isn't cheating. It could be curiosity, there are all sorts of Internet ads on sites I frequent daily with hot Asian girls in skimpy bikinis saying 'Want to meet her tonight??' in fun, suggestive fonts. Fuck I'm only about 15% lesbian and I want to fuck the hot Asian girl!!
Or what if he was just doing it for a laugh, a bit of fun??

After the situation had settled down and she'd moved back in with him after he promised to never think about touching a keyboard ever again and no doubt having his cock under lock and key for a week or so, I put this question forward to her, and she point blank refused to agree with me, she thinks intent is cheating, Internet intent or not. We totally disagree but I guess it's a very personal thing. It worries me though, it's like those catholic school girls who aren't allowed any freedom, then once they finish school they go crazy giving every boy in sight blow jobs and have Internet screen names like "Gang_bang_slut_69" (An actual screen name of mine- don't ask...) Surely the boyfriend will feel restricted from now on and actually go and cheat some time in the future?

So I'm asking you all for your opinions-

Have you ever cheated??

Have you ever been cheated on??

What constitutes cheating??

Has a J-girl ever threatened to jump off your balcony??

Playground fucker fury.

2011-05-05T16:35:00.003+09:00

I must be getting more violent in my old age, need some meditation or some shit. Or maybe medication is more appropriate...

Hi, I'm Corinne and I may have rage issues because I literally wanted to pick up someone and smash his skull against a playground equipment bar and then throw him head first down a slide. The big slide...

And even worse, he was 7. What the fuck, I need to get this under control! I feel this will become more of a problem as Ash gets older and I live in Japan longer too. I never wanted to be one of those controlling soccer mums who ran on to the field to sort out the kid who made an unfair tackle on her son, I always wanted him to know I was here for him but that he had to have a crack at solving the problem himself, or failing that, kicking the other kid really hard without getting caught. I still really believe this but when it's such an unfair fight and when the kid in question is a ignorant little fuck it really gets my blood boiling.

We went to the park today, it was a beautiful day and I had a few free hours that I was not wasting watching TV inside so off we went to get some onigiris and juice and to play in the park for a bit. Fresh air, exercise, the perfect day for it. When we got to the park there were no other kids there but within about a minute the kid who lives near the park came over like he always does. This kid is cheeky and a bit annoying but he plays with Ash and I really don't mind him. Then, another few kids came over, they said "Ahhh America-jin mitai!!" (It looks like an American!!) this pisses me off in adults but really doesn't bother me when it's kids so I said "Hello!" and "Issho ni asobo?" (You wanna play together?) They then had a debate with each other whether I was in fact American or Japanese, the little boy was all, "But she said Hello, hello is English!!" and the girl said "But then she spoke Japanese and the little boy is Japanese!" They were friendly enough though and after a few minutes chatting I explained I was from Australia and baby Daddy was Japanese and all that other shite that is hopefully working to open their little clammed up minds.

Soon after, the park started to fill up with bigger kids and, no parents but fair play, when Ash is older I'll so send him to the park so I can have time to myself but only if I'm confident in the fact that he'll play nice and not be a right little fucker. The little fucker in question today was only 7, but a 7 year old and a 2 year old is a huge difference too. I'd left Ash playing on the slide and had already been annoyed by the little fucker screaming "HAAAARRROOOOOOO!!!!" at him repeatedly and laughing hysterically at himself. Ash obviously didn't give a fuck, but must have thought it a bit strange, he goes to Japanese kindy and speaks Japanese every day.

The older kid had a ball and Ash wanted to play with it, now had the kid been in the middle of a kicking game or something I would have told Ash to leave it but it had been sitting by the swings for about 10 minutes and the minute Ash wanted to kick it the older kid snatched it away and ran. Ash of course thought it was a game and ran after him but after about 5 minutes of the kid running away then taunting him by almost giving him the ball and snatching it back while saying "WHAT'S YOUR NAME!?" I was getting fed up. I yelled louder than I expected and I said to the little fucker, "Stop saying that, he can speak Japanese!!" I also muttered "You little cunt" under my breath but he wasn't listening at all. The other kids shifted their eyes nervously and I have a feeling this kid is probably a bully at school too because they all looked a bit scared of him.

Ash was almost hysterical by now and I decided enough was enough and said in a loud enough voice "Well, if he's not going to share, let's go to another park." The kid gave me a sideways glance and I once again told him to stop screaming bad English and reminded him that he'd been using Ash's toy cars before. He ran away, but not before the obnoxious little fuckwit screeched "OH MAI GOOOODDD!!!" at me. My face must have looked like a tomato I wanted to backhand the little shit so bad but I restrained myself and just got Ash and left, so angry and frustrated that Ash wasn't big enough and fast enough to clock him and steal his ball while I turned a blind eye. I fucking hate bullies, can't stand them. I guess the only thing I have to look forward to is Ash growing big and tall so that no fucker will even try to pick on him when he gets to school.

I also explained to Ash that there are always cunts in this world, no matter where you are, we've just got to deal with them and move on. Best work on my word choice before he learns how to say 'cunt' eh...

Wanking on my door

2011-05-04T16:01:00.003+09:00

I'm making this title very easy to find, because I know I've written this story here before but I can't find it anywhere. OK, that implies I've tried really hard to find it which I totally haven't, but it's a cracker of a story so I don't really mind re-writing it!

It was a warm summer night, I remember this because I had a sweaty forehead and a headache. I'd just been to a local izakaya for a few beers with my best mate. We were off to Thailand together the next week and had been planning where to stay and what to do over after-work beers. He lived just around the corner from me, but it's Japan, there was never a need to be a gentleman and walk me home so we always went our separate ways at the conbini that divided the streets our flats were on. I wasn't drunk, but had had enough to know I'd have a shower and collapse in to bed straight away. It must have been about 11pm, late enough for pissed people to say random things to me anyway.

It wasn't unusual for a drunk salary man to be chatty after he stumbled out of one of the snack bars, I'd usually laugh and say goodnight if I was in a good mood or scowl and keep walking if I wasn't. This night was no exception, and as I got to my flat entrance that happened to also share the entrance to a particularly noisy and seedy snack bar, a 40-something year old guy stumbled out on his phone. (Probably his wife asking where the fuck he was) As I trudged up the first flight of stairs (I lived on the 3rd floor) the guy smacked his phone back together urgently and cried out "ohhhh, ohh, Onesan!!" He actually had the tone of urgency in his voice to the point I thought I might have dropped something so I turned around and raised my eyebrows in a dubious question of "What?" He was obviously quite drunk, he had the stroke victim-like arm movement going on but he wasn't that far pissed that he was stumbling or anything yet. He then said in Japanese, "I want to study English!
Can we just hold on a minute here, imagine if I was in Sydney and I went up to a random Asian person and told them I wanted to study Chinese?? They'd probably go off their nut at me before telling me they were of Korean descent in an Aussie accent, and rightly so, I really hate the random English study question. (well, less so now that I have an English school but you know what I mean!) For one, I may not speak English, I may be French or German or Italian or any other nationality for all the fuck these people know. I'm totally cool with people randomly talking to me, in English or Japanese, I'm friendly. But sometimes the cheeky or obnoxious requests really piss me off. This night was no exception, I was a bit tipsy, hot, still in my work suit and had spent the whole day fake smiling at people I couldn't tell to go fuck themselves for fear of being fired, I certainly wasn't going to put up with this fuck stick for long.

I turned around to keep going and muttered "well there are loads of us foreign folk around, I'm sure you'll find one to teach you!" I totally expected him to disappear back in to the smoky snack bar cave and get lost in his whisky but to my surprise I heard the scuffing of his feet as he advanced towards the stairs. Now, I was at no point scared, he was a weedy fucker as most salary types are and I could have taken him with a chubby shoulder barge, but still, a guy coming after you puts all your attack spidey senses in to over drive so I stopped and actually turned around. He then said again but more directly, "Can you teach me English!?" and I hadn't really noticed it but his hand was lingering around his crotch area and must have unzipped himself somewhere along the line. I said that I was going, it was late, goodnight... and then I saw it, dirty fucker was totally having a wank. Now, my next reaction... I often think what I could? should? have done... thrown something at him, kicked him in the nuts, lured him up the stairs then pushed the dirty fucker down them, sprayed perfume in his eyes... but what did I do...?

I giggled.

Like a small school girl, and much like I did a few years later when I would wank Mickey Mouse boy of my own free will. (ooooo ironic!) I always giggle when I'm nervous, no doubt encouraging wanky boy to really go at it. He totally had his cock out by this time and obviously sensed he didn't have much time because he was slapping the salami furiously while creeping further up the stairs. I'd started up the stairs ahead of him at a normal pace but now he was gaining on me I knew I had to piss bolt it up the stairs and in to my flat. I started taking two steps at a time more quickly (and still laughing) but he was also running while still pulling himself and saying "Wait...wait!! I'm almost done!!" Filthy fucker! It was at this point that things really started to go bad, I dropped my shoe. Now, a guy possibly wanting to sexual assault you and a shoe doesn't seem like a hard choice to make, but not only are shoes sacred to me in any country, in this country they are like fucking oil producing gold due to my feet refusing to squish in to dainty J-girl shoes. Plus they were my expensive work high-heels, and I wasn't going to leave one of them on a dingy staircase for a seedy perv to fill it will his jizz. So I went back for the shoe, which cost me precious seconds for him to come closer to blowing his load. I came to a dangerously scary eye-level to his wang as I rushed back down the few steps and bent down to slip my shoe back on. I may have stopped giggling by this point but was just saying "Stop it! stop it!" In Japanese and "Fuck off!!!" In English. He got an English lesson in fending off sexual predators I guess.

It felt like hours but it must have all happened in minutes, maybe the snack bar girls had been building him up, because it had only been a few minutes since he starting wanking to the time it took till I'd dashed to my flat door and swung it open. I'd lost the key ages ago and despite hoards of annoying fuckers telling me how dangerous it was to leave my flat unlocked all the time I sure was grateful I hadn't listened and could slam it shut and lean against it before the wanker came any closer. As I jammed the heavy door closed and flopped all my weight on it panting in fear and exhaustion he was right behind me. (if only I'd trapped his cock in the door!) The peep hole showed me his face at that funny angle, forehead big and chin tiny with a drunken zoned out look on his face as he came all over my door with a disgusting groan that I still clearly remember. He seemed to snap out of his daze pretty quickly as I said I was calling the police and he scuttled off. I was so relieved that he'd gone that I actually called my mate and told him what had happened rather than the police, and in typical male fashion, his response was: "Damn, no girl has ever come and wanked on my door, you're lucky!"
I promptly hung up and was fortunate to have a J-boy gaijin hunter who was nice enough to come and inspect my door the next morning and clean the present wanky man had left behind.

So there you have it, I'm sure not many people can say that someone left them a string of pearls on their front door, but it's such an awesome story to tell people whenever the topic turns to weird, kinky Japan.

Watch out ladies, wanky man may be lurking at a door near you!

Antsy

2011-04-30T18:17:00.003+09:00

I've heard before that women reach their sexual peak way later than men, like around 30 for women and 20 for men?? No? Am I just pulling those statistics out of my arse?? But whatever, I know it's definitely later for women anyway.

I knew things were getting desperate the other night when I had a graphically enjoyable sex dream. This would be great news, but you know who was my hot, steamy partner in this terribly horny dream??

Go on, guess!

Matsumoto Jun?? No. Cristiano Ronaldo?? No, I fucking wish. Won Bin?? No.

These lads would all have been welcomed in to my sex dream with open arms and wild sexual panting. But you know who floated my boat this particular night?

Steve. From Beverly Hills 90210... In the early years!

He annoys me even when he's not making wild passionate love to me! But I enjoyed it so much I felt kind of dirty when I woke up.
So you know, I figured I obviously needed to get some, if only to stop these horrible sex dreams involving bad 90's soap stars. Although, wouldn't kick Luke Perry out of bed, something about the bad boy image and husky voice... Anyway! This is the conversation that Ryota and I had after I woke up...

Me (AKA horny housewife): Morning! Oh my god I had the best sex dream last night!

Him: Really? Was I in it?

Me: Oh god no, you're never in them! (and a slight bow in apology)

Him: .............. (and a slight scowl in response to the apology bow)

Me: It was Steve from Beverly Hills 90210, so gross and random! It shows how desperate I am for a shag, think you can go the distance and actually stay awake tonight so we can get a shag in??

Him: Hmmmm 頑張る (I'll try...)

What the hell man!? If it's that much fucking effort maybe I should go find someone who is a little more ready and willing and doesn't have to try so much if it's really that hard (or not hard as the case may be!) He then tried to splutter and stammer his way out of it by saying what he meant was that he would 'ganbaru' to get to bed early, not to work up the will to get a leg over. But it was too late, damage was done and I was already ranting away and it wasn't even 8am. He then pondered over his honey on toast and said, "I know, I'll get you a vibrator for Mother's day!" To which I ranted again that I didn't want a fucking vibrator, I wanted a husband who's cock was as genki as I'd like and instantly started giggling because I actually used that phrasing and imagined a little cock with a smiley face on it...

Thank fuck our neighbours can't understand half our conversations.