Post Confession

5 seconds:
I wonder, does "I love you" have a different meaning in Japanese than in English?

10 seconds:
I finish my beer.

20 seconds:
I'm watching a half-naked man with a ridiculous haircut scroll through I-tunes on the opposite side of the bar.

1 minute, 10 seconds:
I roll my eyes in response to hearing Thriller for the 3rd time in an hour.

3 minutes:
I feel ignorned by the barkeep, and I take a sip from the glass of liquid sitting in front of me.

3 minutes, 5 seconds:
A British tourist attaches his hand to the drink and asks who I am, and I respond by asking what's that he's drinking.

3 minutes, 30 seconds:
I learn another useless fact about Jameson Whiskey.

5 minutes:
I bet him that he can't tell the difference between bourbon and whiskey. I say that I'll buy both drinks if he can. At this point, I'm not sure how much money I've spent thus far.

5 minutes, 20 seconds:
He orders 2 drinks.

5 minutes, 25 seconds:
I chastise the bartender for not having an I-tunes mix prepared. I ask him how he can mix tapes and drinks at the same time.

5 minutes, 35 seconds:
I finish laughing at my own joke.

6 minutes:
I remember it again, wondering if it made sense and if I had slightly slurred my Xs.

6 minutes, 20 seconds:
The drinks are placed between the British tourist and myself. He pays, and I comment on the difference of maplyness. I put the money on the bar, and tell him to close his eyes.

7 minutes:
I switch the drinks around 10 times before I pick up the darker, more mapley one and place the glass in his hand.

7 minutes, 10 seconds:
He drinks, and I take the glass and place it next to the other one.

7 minutes, 15 seconds:
He responds, "bourbon". He's right.

7 minutes, 20 seconds:
I tell him so and slide the sen yen under his hand.

7 minutes, 40 seconds:
He tells me to close my eyes, and I do. I feel the glass beneath my lip despite it not having yet touched. I lean forward to put my mouth on the glass, tilt, "oh definitely whiskey", i think, while bourbon flows over my tongue.

7 minutes, 45 seconds:
I always hold shots in my mouth a few seconds to prepare myself for the chill that follows. Before I swallow, his mouth crashes onto mine.

7 minutes, 47 seconds:
The unexpectancy postpones my swallowing reflex.

7 minutes, 50 seconds:
He takes the bourbon from my mouth, and I become enraged.

8 minutes:
"why'd you do that?" I yell, most likely in that voice that has been described by my "friends" as "drunkenly shrill".
"Do what?" he asks, as if he hadn't any recollection of what happened.
"Take my whiskey?"

8 minutes, 20 seconds:
He calmly informs me that was bourbon. And takes a drink to confirm.

8 minutes, 25 seconds:
I find his audacity disgustingly attractive, and I steal back my shot in the same manner.

9 minutes, 30 seconds:
I become aware that I am making out with a stranger I've known less than 10 minutes.

10 minutes:
I feel a poke on my back from someone telling me they think it's time for me to go home. That person does not look very happy.

10 hours:
Thinking back on the night with my head in my hands, I remember the last person I played that game with. Sitting on an unmade bed with ice water and mary jane, giggly, happy, drawing stupid pictures that maden't any sense.
It is this memory that reinforces my belief that I've never been good with boundaries.
And naturally, i finished off wondering,
"Where do you go to learn those things?"

Where does it come from?

1987
Me: Get out of here.
Ricky: Mom, Ronell won't play with me.
Mom: Ronell, play with your brother.
Ricky: (satisfied smirk)
Me: Oh, alright. I learned a new game today at school. Want to play?
Ricky: What is it?
Me: It's a card game. Go get the cards.
Ricky: Okay.
Me: No, the good deck.
Ricky: Here.
Me: Okay, the game is called 52 card pick up. I don't know...are you going to understand the rules?
Ricky: Yes, yes.
Me: Are you sure?
Ricky: I want to play 52 card pick up.
Me: Okkkkk. (Throws cards in a swirl)
Ricky: (confused look)
Me: Well, pick them up.
Ricky: (confused look)
Me: That's the game, Ricky. Now pick them up or else I'll tell Mom you're cheating and that's why I don't play with you.
Ricky: (cries)

End result: I get in trouble.

1991
Me: Hey Ricky, I have a good idea.
Ricky: What?
Me: Let's put Alex in the bathtub.
Ricky: How?
Me: Well, we can pick him up on the sheet he's sleeping on, and carry him into the bathroom and put him in the tub.
Ricky: Okay.
Alex: (cries)

End result: Ricky and I get in trouble.

Ronell: Get out of here.
Ricky: Get out of here.
Rayna: Mom, Ricky and Ronell won't play with me.
Mom: You guys, play with Rayna.
Ronell: Hey Ricky, I have an idea.
Ricky: What?
Ronell: Let's play Ocean Swirl.
Rayna: I want to play Ocean Swirl.
Ronell: Okay, Ricky, pick her up and hold her upside-down.
Ricky: (does this)
Ronell: Now let's go over to the bathroom.
Ricky: Ohhhh, Ocean Swirl.....
Rayna: (upside-down) I don't want to play Ocean Swirl anymore.
Ronell: No, you'll like it.
Ricky: (holding her over the toilet)
Ronell: Now, you drop her and I'll flush, and we'll send her on an Ocean Swirl
Rayna: (cries)

End Result: Ricky and I get in trouble.

2006
Ronell: Hey, just thought I'd warn you, Mom still gets your some of your mail and you got a letter saying you owe 843$ in back taxes.
Ricky: What are you talking about?
Ronell: Well, mom opened it since it looked official.
Ricky: Are you fucking kidding me? Fuck!
Ronell: Ya, that sucks. I gotta go.

Ricky: Ya Mom, I'm gonna go pick up that letter from the tax guys.
Mom: What are you talking about?

End result: Ricky hides my car stereo from me.

2006
Me: That's a funny picture you posted on your myspace.
Cynthia: I don't have a myspace.
Me: Ya you do, I'm on your top 8.
Cynthia: No, I don't have a myspace.
Me: Are you serious? How weird.
Cynthia: Wait a second, how long have I had a myspace?
Me: I don't know. But now that I think about it, I guess you wouldn't post such embarrassing pictures of yourself.
Cynthia: Dad, I'm going on your computer.
Me: His computer is broken right now. But I'll show you later on mine.
Cynthia: Dad, did you hear what Ronell said? There's a myspace of me that I never created.
Dad: That's really strange, Cynthia.
Me: Hey....I bet Alex made your myspace. Those bulletins from you ARE a bit personal, probably only things he would know.
Cynthia: Bulletins like what?
Me: I don't know, personal stuff, like your pooping strategies.
Cynthia: WHATTT?!?!? Give me your computer, I want to look at it.
Me:Okay
Cynthia: Dad, Alex made a myspace pretending to be me and posted a bunch of embarassing things about me!
Dad: What?
Cynthia: Ya, that jerk.
Dad: You know what? I'm gonna call that little son-of-a-bitch.
Dad: (dials number)
Me: Uhhhhhh, just kidding. I made that up.
Dad: What?
Cynthia: What?
Cynthia: cries

End result: I get in trouble.

1983
Mom: Get out of here, you'll get all wet.
Me: What are you doing?
Mom: I'm cleaning Carrot's cage.
Me: Where's Carrot?
Mom: In the house, now get away from the water. I don't want you to get your clothes wet.
Me: I bet I can fit in Carrot's cage.
Mom: No, it's wet, and it's dirty.
Me: But you cleaned it!
Mom: It still has rabbit germs. Don't get inside.
Mom: (walks away)
Me: (gets inside)
Mom: (returns)
Mom: What the hell did I tell you?
Me: Look Mommy, I'm Carrot. I'm a rabbit!
Mom: You want to be a rabbit?
Me: Yes!
Mom: Okay, then you are a rabbit.
Mom: (locks cage)
Mom: (walks into house)
Me: (waits a minute or two)
Me: (Cries)

1993
Me: I think you're driving too fast.
Mom: Well, I've gotta go to the bathroom.
Me: Me too.
Mom: (parks car)
Me: (runs into house)
Me: (runs into bathroom)
Mom: Hurry up!
Me: Ahh, what a nice lovely pee.
Mom: Hurry the fuck up!
Me: Trickling down the spout like a beautiful waterfall.
Mom: (Enters bathroom)
Mom: (Pulls down pants)
Mom: (Pees on me)

1996
Me: (walks into the house)
Mom: You are punished for a month.
Me: What? Why?
Mom: I got your report card today in the mail.
Me: Ya, so?
Mom: You got 3 C's.
Me: Shut up, no I didn't.
Mom: Don't tell me to shut up, and yes you did!
Me: Let me see.
Mom: I already put it away.
Me: In what classes?
Mom: Math, History and PE
Me: That's impossible, my teachers told me my grades.
Mom: Well, that's what your report card said, so you're punished until you get those grades up.
Me: Mr. Salvador, can i talk to you for a moment?
Mr S. Sure.
Me: You told me that I got an B in this class but my report card showed a C.
Mr S. No, you got a B.
Me: Are you sure?
Mr. S: Yes, I'm sure.
Me: Mom, I talked to all my teachers, and I didn't get any C's.
Mom: I know, you got 2 A's and a B.
Me: Huh, how did you know?
Mom: I just told you that so you'd try harder.
Me: But, you said I was punished.
Mom: Well, I don't want you on the phone so much, so you're still punished. You ought to have straight A's anyway.


I'm going home this November. I can't wait!

How to keep kool in Skool-Lesson 1

I hate her.
But she's got 2 young children still in junior high school.
I imagine that their voices become high in excitement when she walks through the door at night.
I think about this when she scowls after she thinks my back is turned.

Thursdays are for Suckers!

It's true that I was thrown in front of that truck!

As you all know now, that theory was laid to rest after the investigation showed that I had written to a friend, merely two days before the incident, that I wished I had the courage to throw myself in front of a laundry truck. And yes, even though it was a tomato truck, that's right...an 8 wheeler Japanese grocer hauling a shipment of tomatoes, that caught me that night, I was deemed a suicide.

Oh, how that steamed my tomatoes! I phrased it in exactly that manner the day I was summoned to appear in front of the suicide commission. I got a laugh out of nobody but the cross-examiner, who only reacted that way as a ploy to suggest that I was a ridiculous candidate for the accidental death insurance clause, which I only applied for because it was the shortest form.

You see, I had no idea of all the legal strife that death would cause me after I accidentally entered a one-way alley that led me onto that stupid highway that went a stretch of 3 miles before another off-ramp became available. Had i known that I'd have to spend 11 weeks in line at the accidental suicide claims office just to file some stupid petition, I might have paid closer attention to the route I took back home that stupid drunken night. I probably would have turned my bike around when I realized that I was struggling up a hill, into an unknown area which turned out to be the Tokai expressway. Obviously, I wasn't in the mood to make a detour, so I just kept going...that is, until i was...well, saucified.

So you see, I am tempted to haunt the shit out of my best friend for his reckless remittance of his email account, which enabled that sherriff to suggest that my email was "a cry for help" . However, I have forgiven him due to the fact that he wrote me back saying that they threatened him with 2 weeks in detention if he declined in aiding the investigation.

Of course, we both know...that is, my best friend and I, that my statement was only a joke that only we understood. But of course, he didn't see the harm in allowing everyone to believe that I was suicidal. "So what?" he thought. "She's dead, so what does it matter now?". He was sincerely sad at my departure, but he thought it was fruitless to debate the matter any further. My mother and brother cried at my funeral, though, and he watched them, so for that...i will definitely haunt him.

Although, when I ponder on it now, I realize that haunting will do no good. He'll just enjoy the attention that I give him from the afterlife. Therefore, now, I must channel my energy into something that matters. Of course, I still have alot of legal matters to attend to with the commission, but those are just meaningless forbearances that I should just overcome. Instead, I should just focus on my community service injunctions that I was given in order to lay this whole ordeal to rest.

I'm supposed to think about my life, and think about the people that I have disappointed during that time, and attempt to rectify (in written form) whatever grievances I have imposed upon them. As of now, I am procrastinating, which is one of the biggest no-no's of this whole procedure.

However, I'm pissed. I have included in my statement that I never intended to swerve into traffic that night. I have placed my grievance about the old man that waved his hand in front of my face, making me swerve, leading my bike into the highway that cold October night. I can't believe that just because I loved Yebisu as a wholehearted Gaijin, that I am now doomed to such a ridiculous fate. Fuck that. I wanna speak to the embassy!

English Dork

I've been reading alot of students' essays on the problems of the modern age. You see, it is season when the seniors are taking exams to prove their proficiency in English. If you can remember when we had to do these things, you might remember topics, cheesy topics.....on the problems of the world. Global warming, moral degeneration, gender biases, science vs. nature, etc.

I was asked to provide 3 sample essay answers in regards to each of these topics. I hadn't been forced to write on a specific topic in quite awhile, so I took the challenge quite seriously. I thought deeply about how public transportation has affected me in my nowaday life, and how gender biases affect our children. I relished the ordering of my responses, and answering the questions exactly how they were asked, while planning my points as if they were a strategy for war.

This assignment summoned the English major dork in me, which reminded me of one of my favorite pastimes, debate.

I thought about how I've abandoned argumentative writing, and instead behaving much like a bee, fleeting from topic to topic without any sense of cohersion. These days, I have begun to substitute literature analysis with the poop that has always annoyed my loved ones.

No longer having an audience for essays about character analysis or author motivation has led me back to breaking down the motives and desires of those around me and attempting to expose it for all that I theorize it to be.

I wonder if this is the cause of why I mentally regard (not retard) those I meet as characters of fiction rather than friends and acquaintances. Tonight I realized that I must cease my incessant curiousity of the inner limelight that glows within the people I meet.


Instead, I should just rely on their outward projection of what they want me to believe them to be. Because that's all anyone will ever admit to me or anyone else. There's no inside to people that don't admit to an inside. And maybe I am not qualified to quantify those elements of people with my own beliefs.

I am not a soothsayer. I have no idea at all.
Despite what I give birth to, I haven't the slightest clue to who any of you really are......

What was I talking about again? Being an English nerd? Missing real writing?

Hey look, there's a pretty flower!

Coming in for a landing where there is little understanding

Even after a year in this place, I have barely scratched the surface of comprehending things that happen around me. Like a child, I have come to make sense of strange practices only through the sense of repetitive familiarity, rather than actually understanding. For example, during morning meeting when the teachers all begin to clap, I turn and clap. I usually don't know why, but I do it anyway. A year ago, i'd just don my "what the fuck" face and ask another sensei what was happening. Then decide if I should clap.

Now, I don't care, i just clap. And that is that.

That's not to say that I am a complete moron. I mean, I have been studying the language, and asking about a quatrillion questions since I've stepped into this country. However, the knowledge I have gathered up until this point is making me wonder if I will ever really understand things.

For instance, i know what Karuta is. I know that when I pronounce it, I must put the stress on the first syllable so the students won't laugh at me. I know that it is a game played with one hundred cards, and each has the ending of a famous haiku written on it. I understand why the kids huddle around the scattered cards and grab it like lightning after the announcer reads something to them. Yes, I've been taught that they must match the beginning of the poem to the ending on the card, and gather the most cards in order to win. This is something I learned last year in the gym when all the 1st year students had a Karuta tournament.

However, this is something that you can learn from a book. Or from a blog:) How many years would it take it me actually sit amongst the children and be able to play with them? Who the hell knows? Alot.

This weighs on my mind. I am beginning to wonder if these strange and interesting things I experience everyday are actually bettering me in any way. Hmmph. Perhaps too serious to discuss here, so I will digress in an attempt to entertain you.

Here are a couple of things I have photographed that have left me amused and confused. Let me ask you, What does it all mean?



Desk Artwork in the Team teaching room


Sign by the ATM at the Shimashin in Shimada, Japan


Store sign in Shizuoka City, Japan

Another random blundering of a tangled autumn night

In the late 80's, my stepmother used listen to K-Earth 101, which is (or at least used to be) an oldie's radio station while driving me to morning daycare. The YMCA bus driver also used to listen to this station as she'd drive to our elementary school. I blame these two people for my inability to pass the rice paddies by my house without my inner brain radio blasting The Byrds' 1965 hit single "Turn, turn, turn".

Mind you, throughout the lyrics, there is no mention of rice fields, or persimmon trees buried in ready and rotting fruit. It says nothing of riding on a scratched up 1 speed bicycle in the perfect 72 degree afternoon autumn breeze, breathing in the slight scent of burning foliage, hearing children run under the blue, pink and purple skies that paint the scenes of a small Japanese farming town.

It isn't the song, nor the Ecclesiastes' quote from the bible upon which it is based, that says any of that. It is my brain. Or rather, the teachings of religion classes during grades 6-12 spent in various Catholic schools, that now has made autumn and harvest synonomous with this little verse.

Now, it's not a particularly bad or annoying thing that this happens, it's just something that I wish I could turn off. It's not that I hate my religious upbringing, it's just that I wish I could turn it off. A couple of days ago, I posted a little blurb making fun of some aspects of Christianity. I wondered about who this might offend. My father? Perhaps. My grandmother? Definitely. My godmother? Fo sho.

Although I don't blame anyone for taking offense, I do wonder why. I wonder why guilt over things that deserve no ill feelings is the core of a religion that preaches love and forgiveness. I've been loved and forgiven, but I still sing stupid songs that remind me of a time when I was made to feel guilty about things as natural as the seasons.

Video means "i see" in Latin.

Think about the movies that you loved as a kid....

Go ahead, remember. I'll wait.

A few movies I made my dad rent over and over...

Labyrinth.
The Neverending Story
Little Shop of Horrors
Annie
The Boy who Could fly
Flight of the Navigator
D.A.R.Y.L.
Explorers



Children can find disenfranchisement and macabre in literature, as well.
James and the Giant Peach
Indian in the Cupboard
The Witches
A Wrinkle in Time



I'd probably read Harry Potter if I were still a baby.
There's a whole new generation arising.

There's this blog I sometimes read.....

TS. IDIOT---who wrote this below: (i thought it was funny, so here it is for you).




Divine Intervention.

Setting: Decent apartment in a crappy neighborhood. From stage left enters Mary, a former nun who recently lost her faith. She takes off her habbit and robe and hits play on the answering machine.

Answering Machine: You have 20 new messages. Playing First message.

God: Hi Mary, listen, it's God. Um, could you give me a call?

Playing Second Message.

God: Hey Mary, God again. I didn't see you at church today and I was wondering what you were up to, anyways give me a call.

Playing Third message.

God: Hey Mary, yep, it's the big guy. Listen, I know you were watching a movie when you weren't at church. I was watching you. Seriously give me a call.

Playing Fourth message:

God: Sorry about that last message, that was kind of creepy wasn't it? That's not what I meant at all. Anyways I just really want to see you, please call me.

Playing Fifth message:

God: Damnit Mary, what the fuck? I don't care about you anymore. Become a Bhuddist for all I care, I don't need you to be happy. Anyways Jesus invited me to this party tonight and there's going to be like all these totally hot saints there. So whatever, I'm totally over you.

Playing Sixth message:

God: Mary, come on Mary, I love you, I will always love you unconditionally. Mary please call. Listen I work in mysterious ways, I'm sorry things havn't been working out lately and I swear I would've told you about your mothers cancer sooner if I thought it would help. Anyways please call me, please. Damnit Son I'm on the phone, Jesus Christ. Shut up I'm on the phone. Yeah, well your mother wasn't a virgin before I met her you spoiled brat. Mary I'll call you back, I think I might need to kill my son again. Just kidding, haha, remember when we used to joke mary? Anyways please call.

Playing Seventh message:

God: Okay what the fuck you bitch, you haven't even prayed to me once. Do I mean nothing to you? I'm the reason you exist you fucking whore, yeah, tell Vishnu I said that you slut. I bet you're making good use of all four of his hands as we speak. If this was 3000 years ago I would've smithed your ass so fast you wouldn't have time to get whiplash before you were nothing but a pillar of Salt. Man this spiked Holy water is good shit, I'm so drunk right now. You cunt, fuck you, you think I don't have other girls? I have thousands of worshipers just begging to believe in me. I hope you die in hell. And baby, I can arrange that shit.

Playing Eight message:

God: Baby, baby, baby, honey, sweetheart, I'm so so so sorry, I was drunk and didn't know what I was saying. Peter and Francis took me out and we got totally wasted and I kind of slipped into the old testament for awhile there. I would never ever do anything to hurt you and would never do anything like the stuff I said, I'm so sorry baby. Baby, you know how much I love you? I gave you free will, you don't have to love me. Hell, no one deserves to love me, I hate my life, nobody cares about me. You think it's easy being me? Mary I need you to believe in me, I need you baby. Please come back. Maybe we can just hang out at the altar for like a day or something? Let's take it slow. My life sucks without you, heaven isn't heaven without you in my life. Please please please call me. Please.

Playing Ninth Message:

Pope: Hey Mary, it's me, the pope. Listen, god is a total mess right now, there's plagues and tsunamis and hurricanes all over. He doesn't believe in himself anymore, the universe itself is coming apart at the seams. Mary, he's a good entity. Sure I know he used to be a little rough around the edges but that's all in the past. He's a great omnipotent deity, he loves you so much Mary and he would do anything in his power, which is a lot mind you to get you back. He's a mess right now, every time I pray to him he takes over and can't shut up about you. Give the old guy a chance Mary? Eh? For me.

Playing Tenth message:

Jesus: No I'm not going to say that. You can't make me, Dad damn you! Hi Mary, this is Jesus...Listen....I can't believe you're making me say this. Okay damnit just stop crying. Listen Mary, I died for your sins okay? That shit hurt and all your shit is forgiven because of me so how about giving my dad one more shot? There I said it, man I feel dirty now.

Playing Eleventh Message:

Richard Dawkins: Hey Mary, it's Richard Dawkins. I had a great time last night. Pick you up around the same time tonight? Later babe.

Playing Twelfth message:

God: Richard Dawkins? You're dating fucking Richard Dawkins? I saw you with him. I thought I was delusional. It's like I don't even exist to you anymore. It's like you don't believe in anything we shared. I can't believe you would do this, of all people. I wish I could kill myself. Don't expect to ever hear from me again because I'm never ever calling you.

Playing thirteenth message:

God: Richard Dawkins? what the fuck Mary?

Playing Fourteenth message:

Satan: Hello, is this Mary? Anyways you don't know me, my name is Satan. I just wanted to say thank you, and keep doing your thang girlfriend.

Playing Fifteenth Message:

God: Hey, Mary old pal, guess who this is? Not that you care. Anyways have you seen the news lately? Did you hear about the famine in Bolivia? No? How about the Hurricane in India, where hundreds died? Or maybe you heard about the Tidal wave that just hit Japan? Just throwing this out there, maybe your fault. Have a great day.

Playing Sixteenth Message.

God: Hey Mare-bear, listen, I was doing some research and stumbled upon a little interesting bit of clerical data up here in heaven. Turns out your mom had like six over due library books when she was fourteen. I'm afraid I'm going to have to send her downstairs for eternal damnation and torture. However, you know that uncle of yours that raped you when you were 7? He's neck deep in hot angel ass and Pina Coladas. Ciao!

Playing Seventeenth Message:

David: Hi Mary, this is David Sloan Wilson, I'm sorry I have some terrible news. I was hanging out with Richard Dawkins today when he was randomly hit by lightning 84 consecutive times and then a shark materialized out of thin air and bit his charred remains in half before vanishing in a puff of smoke. It was pretty nuts. Anyways, the funeral service is being held next week and I know Richard would've wanted you to come.

Playing Eighteenth Message:

God: You see what you made me do Mary? Do you see what you made me do? Do you see what I'm capable of? That's how much I love you. I NEED YOU MARY, I COMMAND YOU TO CALL ME.

Playing Nineteenth Message:

Tom: Hi Mary, this is Tom Cruise, I was wondering if you've heard about Dianeti-- *Sound of lightning striking repeatedly*

Playing Final Message:

God: Mary, I'm sorry. For someone who's omnipotent I've been a pretty big idiot lately. It's just been really hard for me since I've lost you and I needed time to grieve and get myself in a good place. I had a good talk with Moses and he made me realize a lot of the things I've been doing lately are totally out of character for me and for that I apologize. I've met this new girl and you'd really like her, her name is Madaline. Anyways just to show there's no hard feelings I got Elvis, Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin and a couple of my friends from Heaven to put together a concert and I wanted to know if you wanted to come? Just one last meeting between us as friends, no strings attached. Just give me a call and we'll get together and put this whole mess behind us. Thank you so much for being a part of my life. Thanks to you I'm the god I am today and I appreciate everything you've done for me. So just give me a call and I'll set up the concert and we can go our separate ways and live happily ever after, goodbye. Oh, fuck this shit. it's Armageddon time.