For some, it is waking up in the tank
For others, it is beating the shit out of their toddler
For me, it was finding The Genius of the Crowd
hugging the bookmark I made for him in second grade.
The bookcase was amess with reasons.
Showing posts with label Alcoholism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Alcoholism. Show all posts
Monday, December 10, 2007
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
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?"
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?"
Thursday, October 11, 2007
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!
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!
Monday, September 10, 2007
Motorhead
It is amazing what addiction can do. Unwelcomed, though tiny, thoughts invade your think-space in that slick, non-verbal jumpy frogleg way. As I write, trying to capture this moment so that I might reread it next time I think it'd be nice to go out for a smoke. I was 2 days short of a 3 week non-smoking stint that was quite unlike my others. You see, this bout with nicotine freedom was preluded by a very uncomfortable case of tonsilitis, which took the slight annoyance of craving a smoke and turned it into chronic pain which resulted in days without much water, sleep or tabemono. When you spend a week and a half in a miserable fever haze, tabako no jidou hanbaiki isn't much of a mirage-y oasis. My point is that after I recovered and began feeling good, I didn't want to do anything mean and yucky to my poor body. I was so nice to it. Only feeding it fruits, veggies, rice. Taking it out for afternoon walks. Buying it beautiful smelling soaps, no pickling, no suffocation, no disagreeable chemicals. I somehow convinced myself that it'd be pretty disgusting to do any of these things.
That is until I wanna relax. I know that sounds stupid. And I'm not referring to the type 1 relaxing that I had been engaging in since the detox. You know, where after a nice brisk walk through a humid afternoon, I'd do a bit of showering, putting on some musik and reading beside the lovely summer evening breeze sauntering past my bed. That's good too. But I mean the type 2 relaxing. The kind where you drink deliciously frosty beverages while focusing on other things: perhaps chatting with a friend, watching movies, or writing incoherently inside a notebook or perhaps atop a keyboard. Type 2 gives the added option of not only relaxing your body, distracting your mind, but also distracting certain emotions. It gives a small vacation from things like the autumn willys. And unfortunately, frosty beverages walk hand in hand with smokey cylindrical pleasure sticks.
In summary, this short reunion with my vices was not that intense. I smoked maybe about 5-6 in total. However, that was all that was necessary to make my after work kaeru fall back into my old desires of smoking 2 on my front porch as a welcome back Toby party today. And as I began this post, nothing sounded quite as good. And even now, as I'm preparing to leave you and depart for the shower/pajama/cold glass of water/cat power/roald dahl/sleep, all that would really satisfy me was an umeshu and soda highball outside the porch beside a half packet of Mild 7's number six. My thoughts run like wild children awaiting the end of a typhoon. My motorhead seeks refuge. It is amazing what addiction can do.
That is until I wanna relax. I know that sounds stupid. And I'm not referring to the type 1 relaxing that I had been engaging in since the detox. You know, where after a nice brisk walk through a humid afternoon, I'd do a bit of showering, putting on some musik and reading beside the lovely summer evening breeze sauntering past my bed. That's good too. But I mean the type 2 relaxing. The kind where you drink deliciously frosty beverages while focusing on other things: perhaps chatting with a friend, watching movies, or writing incoherently inside a notebook or perhaps atop a keyboard. Type 2 gives the added option of not only relaxing your body, distracting your mind, but also distracting certain emotions. It gives a small vacation from things like the autumn willys. And unfortunately, frosty beverages walk hand in hand with smokey cylindrical pleasure sticks.
In summary, this short reunion with my vices was not that intense. I smoked maybe about 5-6 in total. However, that was all that was necessary to make my after work kaeru fall back into my old desires of smoking 2 on my front porch as a welcome back Toby party today. And as I began this post, nothing sounded quite as good. And even now, as I'm preparing to leave you and depart for the shower/pajama/cold glass of water/cat power/roald dahl/sleep, all that would really satisfy me was an umeshu and soda highball outside the porch beside a half packet of Mild 7's number six. My thoughts run like wild children awaiting the end of a typhoon. My motorhead seeks refuge. It is amazing what addiction can do.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Loopy-(adj)-term used to describe one suffering from The Loops
The Loops-noun: a state of consciousness caused by after-effects of dousing the brain and other important organs in the body to a substantial amount of abusive conditions. Most commonly associated with the days following ingestion of alcohol or other cell killing agents. Some describe the Loops condition as feeling as you are running on the last 2 percent of brain capacity. Doctors claim one should not operate heavy machinery or make critical life decisions while experiencing the Loops. (see also: the loopy loops and Loopidity.)
Saturday, and most of Sunday was spent suffering through and recovering from the Loops. I did so by sleeping until 3pm, until deciding that I ought to come downstairs and fill myself with some H2O. After a bit, I tried to ignore and conquer the terrible way I felt by sending some texts to Kate and Glen to see if they were heading to Hama, as planned. I said to myself, "self, if they go, you're going. so just deal with it." After some time spent in the wonderfully warm womb of my electric blanket, I learned that the kiddies decided to keep it a Shimada night. And after my arguments with my blanket on whether I would leave it or not, I decided to make us both happy and pack it to come with, thus beginning my journey to K's house, then Glen's. The night was quite pleasant as always, spilling into today. Very low key, very minimalistic, very chill and delicious. Delicious is the new name for the great nasu/parmesean-pepper bread meal that Kate and I have perfected. After a couple of Simpsons and Family Guy episodes, we had a bit of talk, attempts at Japanese study, then Trader Joes' sipping chocolate, and I came back home to clean and prepare for tomorrow.
Now that it is all done, and I'm close to heading for bed, I will tell you exactly how this case of the Loops was formed. It all began at Locky's birthday dinner where I discovered that this restaurant serves Coronas with LIME. Real lime! Not the little packets of lemon juice that they attach to the neck of the Coronas you buy at the Konbini. Which, coincidentally I had discovered for the first time the night before after Dave's and my attempt at watching the newest episode of Lost. To tell you the truth though, the little packets of lemon juice are not that bad, just not the same as having the little squirty lime pulp with some salt chilling on the rim.
So yes, Locky's dinner, at a little restaurant whose name I now forget, in Kikugawa, was quite nice.
Here's the delicious cake.
Here's a group shot. These kids have all been here since last year, and will be leave Japan in August, which i'm pretty sad about. 
And another with me.
Here's a nice pic of Grace and her boo, Dani.
Here's a pic of Kjell, Dani and birthday boy. Grace was the mastermind behind the shot, as she wanted a picture illustrating the great difference in height between the boys. That makes this a little funnier, doesn't it? Good job Grace....but yr a meanie!
I call this picture the Love Train.
And this one I like to call "Who's turn to Say Grace?". *
Saturday, and most of Sunday was spent suffering through and recovering from the Loops. I did so by sleeping until 3pm, until deciding that I ought to come downstairs and fill myself with some H2O. After a bit, I tried to ignore and conquer the terrible way I felt by sending some texts to Kate and Glen to see if they were heading to Hama, as planned. I said to myself, "self, if they go, you're going. so just deal with it." After some time spent in the wonderfully warm womb of my electric blanket, I learned that the kiddies decided to keep it a Shimada night. And after my arguments with my blanket on whether I would leave it or not, I decided to make us both happy and pack it to come with, thus beginning my journey to K's house, then Glen's. The night was quite pleasant as always, spilling into today. Very low key, very minimalistic, very chill and delicious. Delicious is the new name for the great nasu/parmesean-pepper bread meal that Kate and I have perfected. After a couple of Simpsons and Family Guy episodes, we had a bit of talk, attempts at Japanese study, then Trader Joes' sipping chocolate, and I came back home to clean and prepare for tomorrow.
Now that it is all done, and I'm close to heading for bed, I will tell you exactly how this case of the Loops was formed. It all began at Locky's birthday dinner where I discovered that this restaurant serves Coronas with LIME. Real lime! Not the little packets of lemon juice that they attach to the neck of the Coronas you buy at the Konbini. Which, coincidentally I had discovered for the first time the night before after Dave's and my attempt at watching the newest episode of Lost. To tell you the truth though, the little packets of lemon juice are not that bad, just not the same as having the little squirty lime pulp with some salt chilling on the rim.
So yes, Locky's dinner, at a little restaurant whose name I now forget, in Kikugawa, was quite nice.
Here's the delicious cake.Here's a group shot. These kids have all been here since last year, and will be leave Japan in August, which i'm pretty sad about. And another with me.Here's a nice pic of Grace and her boo, Dani.Here's a pic of Kjell, Dani and birthday boy. Grace was the mastermind behind the shot, as she wanted a picture illustrating the great difference in height between the boys. That makes this a little funnier, doesn't it? Good job Grace....but yr a meanie!
I call this picture the Love Train.
And this one I like to call "Who's turn to Say Grace?". *
So shortly after I drank a whole lotta Coronas, and two WiSuKi RokU (whiskeys on the rocks), I rode home with them on the train and departed first as "Sugi wa Shimada desu" (Next stop, Shimada) is the first of the stops after Kikugawa. After departing the train station and unlocking my bike, I began to ride when I felt a small vibration in my pocket. It was a text from Leonie, saying that her and her work buddies are drinking in Shimada. So I ask where, and what the fuck....they are right around the corner in a bar with a red door, glowing light tables, and a dart board. So I enter, introduce, and order more beer. The night continues in this fashion for a couple more hours. And boy can these kids drink! Also, I discover that Cat's boyfriend is totally False Tom Gilmartin. He reminded me of him so much, down to way he talked and the jokes he told. After throwing back a few, I was on a nickname basis calling him Champion, as I used to call Tom. After playing darts with the girls, they grew frustrated at my strange talent for dart aiming and we left to sing some Karaoke. This involved buying more beer, and by that time.....I was much past my limit. We sung cheesy things like Smooth Operator, Karma Police and Bohemian Rhapsody before feeling like all the alcohol has finally hit our livers. After stumbling out of "My Pleasure" karaoke, I said goodbye to these new strangers and began my bike ride home.
This was not cute. In Japan, it is illegal to drink and ride your bike. AND, for good reason. There are ditches, and small roads everywhere that pose serious dangers for any bike rider. Just ask Davey, who has already fell into a stream (unharmed thankfully), but then ask Ethan, some kid living in Shizuoka who broke his arm after passing out into a river. I found it incredibly hard to ride my bike home on Friday, let us just leave it at that.
After returning home, I decided I still wasn't ready for bed, so I came home and checked my email where I found my mother and brother casually surfing the web, logged into Gmail chat. This is when I found out that Toby is going to be an aunt. Yes, my bro has knocked up (his exact words) his new girlfriend , and will be soon having a child. Though, my reaction was more along the lines of "what the hell are you thinking?", I cannot wait to be an aunt. I'm going to spoil that kid like frickin' crazy. Even though I will miss the first year or so of its life while being here in Japan, I will still guarantee that I will stake my claim as favorite aunt ever. Just watch and see!!!!
*yes, i know i'm cheesy and stupid. My answer to you....so what?
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