Love the bunny, fear the fluff
Friday, September 29, 2006
Thursday, September 28, 2006
September 27, 2006 Another Wednesday
4:00pm
Day 2 of the worst headache I've had in a while. Someone is to blame for this. Perhaps me. Coming to Japan could have been a mistake. Maybe. Perhaps this is just the headache talking to me. Through me. For me. Shit my head hurts.
5:30pm
Recently I've been meeting guys. a few. One sticks out though. He is 35. I don't think he wants to date me but he'll make a nice friend. He cited our ages as a reason for us to not get together. He says I'm probably playing the field and I suppose that's true. I like him though. a lot. He like the first genuinely good guy I've met. Like documented good. He did something amazing....
8:00pm
We had been drinking for like two hours and I was feeling a little tipsy and easy. So I said that I wanted to "pull" his belt. He said I could but he would never see me again if I did. I was taken back. I was so amazed. I was pleased. To tears. He gained like 35000 cool points with me. I mean hella cool points. I mean there are cool, COOL, and hella cool. He bypassed the first two to line his pockets with hella. I was amazed and even more aroused, but held it in because I couldn't imagine not seeing him again. I was amazed. I am still amazed. I can't get him out of my mind.
Maybe he wants something more than sex and that excites me. Are all older men like him? If they are I think I will have to change my dating age limit. Maybe edge out the 20-somethings and start sampling the world of 40.
8:34pm
I just realized a new wednesday fact. If you avoid eye contact with your japanese coworkers as if were a cancerous element and completley refrain from anything beyond short two word answers they won't give you work. Also the J-guy working in the office has the most crazy hair I've seen in quite some time. Like it feathers out and shit. Its like a puffier, fligtier version of that whole Farraf Fawcett do. Occasionally he pauses to wrangle a piece that has become too enamored withthe idea of flight. Its really funny. His feather hair almost draws attention from the fact that he never closes his mouth. Ever. He sufferes from an extreme case of fat lip or open-jaw or whatever the hell you call it when the shit is always hanging open like a door with a broken hinge. At any rate I often consider lobbing paper clips into his open maw, but change my mind because I would hate to see his hair fly away with his head.
Day 2 of the worst headache I've had in a while. Someone is to blame for this. Perhaps me. Coming to Japan could have been a mistake. Maybe. Perhaps this is just the headache talking to me. Through me. For me. Shit my head hurts.
5:30pm
Recently I've been meeting guys. a few. One sticks out though. He is 35. I don't think he wants to date me but he'll make a nice friend. He cited our ages as a reason for us to not get together. He says I'm probably playing the field and I suppose that's true. I like him though. a lot. He like the first genuinely good guy I've met. Like documented good. He did something amazing....
8:00pm
We had been drinking for like two hours and I was feeling a little tipsy and easy. So I said that I wanted to "pull" his belt. He said I could but he would never see me again if I did. I was taken back. I was so amazed. I was pleased. To tears. He gained like 35000 cool points with me. I mean hella cool points. I mean there are cool, COOL, and hella cool. He bypassed the first two to line his pockets with hella. I was amazed and even more aroused, but held it in because I couldn't imagine not seeing him again. I was amazed. I am still amazed. I can't get him out of my mind.
Maybe he wants something more than sex and that excites me. Are all older men like him? If they are I think I will have to change my dating age limit. Maybe edge out the 20-somethings and start sampling the world of 40.
8:34pm
I just realized a new wednesday fact. If you avoid eye contact with your japanese coworkers as if were a cancerous element and completley refrain from anything beyond short two word answers they won't give you work. Also the J-guy working in the office has the most crazy hair I've seen in quite some time. Like it feathers out and shit. Its like a puffier, fligtier version of that whole Farraf Fawcett do. Occasionally he pauses to wrangle a piece that has become too enamored withthe idea of flight. Its really funny. His feather hair almost draws attention from the fact that he never closes his mouth. Ever. He sufferes from an extreme case of fat lip or open-jaw or whatever the hell you call it when the shit is always hanging open like a door with a broken hinge. At any rate I often consider lobbing paper clips into his open maw, but change my mind because I would hate to see his hair fly away with his head.
September 25, 2006 9:59pm (on the train, again)
Yokkaichi, the station for the overly styled and hideous, appeared out of nowhere tonight. The train stopped and the gorgeous boy in the brown pants exited without so much as a glance in my direction. I his place appeared "bony ass", the snake charmer. He's not very good. All that his swaying back and forth is doing is drawing my attention to his annoyingly pointy shoes and complete lack of ass. That's just a damn tragedy.
*
*
*
My prayers have been answered, he just found a seat. I don't like to write on the train, but I feel as if I have no choice (destiny?) because my mp3 player died on me and the book that I brough is total shite! I realy don't want to examine the passengers on tonights meat train (the train back to nagaya on weekdays at night time is always packed with men). Well I'm looking a little but not as much as I normally would.
I like Japanese guys in pink shirts. How's that for random? Not very I know.
This train takes for fucking ever to get back to the damn city and its fucking hard to wirte. Its bouncing so much that it looks like I'm writing arabic or something.
*grrrrr*
*
*
*
My prayers have been answered, he just found a seat. I don't like to write on the train, but I feel as if I have no choice (destiny?) because my mp3 player died on me and the book that I brough is total shite! I realy don't want to examine the passengers on tonights meat train (the train back to nagaya on weekdays at night time is always packed with men). Well I'm looking a little but not as much as I normally would.
I like Japanese guys in pink shirts. How's that for random? Not very I know.
This train takes for fucking ever to get back to the damn city and its fucking hard to wirte. Its bouncing so much that it looks like I'm writing arabic or something.
*grrrrr*
September 25, 2006 (from the train)
Today I go to a place called Tsu. I don't like it. I don't want to go there, but *sigh* I'm already on the damn train.
I don't really feel like talking about it though. Today, actually lately, my mind has been drawn to more meaty yet still totally pointless discussions. (this is your chance to stop reading before you get really aggravated.) Lately I think about things like destiny and bills. Yes, I know that that is a very odd pair, but I assure you they go together. I can't put my finger on the link, but like peanut butter and jelly they go together. Now that is a truly odd pair. Imagine if you will the nature of the twisted soul who delivered peanut butter and jelly to the unknowing masses. That soul, undoubtly a sugar crazed bi-polar six year old should be canonized and demonized in the same breath.
Destiny. Recently, not recently maybe a couple of weeks ago, my friend and I had a conversation about destiny. I honestly don't understand destiny (or the insane bouncing of this train) . Destiny to me is a horrible thought. When people speak of something as inevitable, or decided by a greater power, or as simply being their destiny I think of a prison sentence. For some people, I think my friend falls into this number (correct me if I'm wrong), destiny is comforting. Destiny does away with the sensation of floating helplessly in a whirlpool that simply can't or won't pull you down. Destiny changes the whirlpool into a river and gives a direction to life. That is comforting.... I suppose.
Whirlpools as a group are evil things, so I suppose having a direction is good. Circles bother me. Still though, I feel differently. To me destiny, is the oars being slapped from my hand and my raft being pushed along by the river. No matter how hard I kick, pray, rock the bloody boat I can't effect its direction. I have no way of preventing the river from smashing me against rocks or depositing me safely on the shore. Destiny is a lack of control and I need to feel control in my life.
******
ah, my stop
I don't really feel like talking about it though. Today, actually lately, my mind has been drawn to more meaty yet still totally pointless discussions. (this is your chance to stop reading before you get really aggravated.) Lately I think about things like destiny and bills. Yes, I know that that is a very odd pair, but I assure you they go together. I can't put my finger on the link, but like peanut butter and jelly they go together. Now that is a truly odd pair. Imagine if you will the nature of the twisted soul who delivered peanut butter and jelly to the unknowing masses. That soul, undoubtly a sugar crazed bi-polar six year old should be canonized and demonized in the same breath.
Destiny. Recently, not recently maybe a couple of weeks ago, my friend and I had a conversation about destiny. I honestly don't understand destiny (or the insane bouncing of this train) . Destiny to me is a horrible thought. When people speak of something as inevitable, or decided by a greater power, or as simply being their destiny I think of a prison sentence. For some people, I think my friend falls into this number (correct me if I'm wrong), destiny is comforting. Destiny does away with the sensation of floating helplessly in a whirlpool that simply can't or won't pull you down. Destiny changes the whirlpool into a river and gives a direction to life. That is comforting.... I suppose.
Whirlpools as a group are evil things, so I suppose having a direction is good. Circles bother me. Still though, I feel differently. To me destiny, is the oars being slapped from my hand and my raft being pushed along by the river. No matter how hard I kick, pray, rock the bloody boat I can't effect its direction. I have no way of preventing the river from smashing me against rocks or depositing me safely on the shore. Destiny is a lack of control and I need to feel control in my life.
******
ah, my stop
Monday, September 25, 2006
thought from the shower
Japan is supposed to be the Land of the Rising Sun, but honestly I'm not sure if they should even hold that title any longer. I have 1) never seen the sunrise here, or even set. The sun is just always there in the sky annoying you with its presence, or the evil bitch is hiding and allowing this insane wind to come and chill your bones. Yes, it gets cold here. 2) Why would Japan be the land of the rising sun if its not the place where time starts. Shouldn't Greenwhich be the land of the rising sun, and Japan be a little place where years and years of closed borders have resulted in inbreeding on a completely unheard of scale. Yes, I think they are inbred. Not insanely, but enough to ensure that a large amount of the population is dependant upon eyeglasses.
I'm not ranting. I'm just thinking. I like Japan... days.
I'm not ranting. I'm just thinking. I like Japan... days.
Sunday, September 24, 2006
Could it be.... me?
Could this one day be me? Probably not, but there is a small chance that on one cold saturday night in November I could be taking my first and probably only dip into the world of *gulp* drag.
I went out last night and this cute little Japanese guy said that he could imagine me in drag and that he would love to photograph me in drag. At first I was insulted, because I normally don't like drag queens. There is just something about about the type of hyperfeminity that drag queens embody that I just can't vibe with. It is similar to my feelings about rappers. I guess they are on the other end of the spectrum in a little place called hypermasculinity. I can't feel them either. I am not about grabbing my dick and calling girls bitches and shit. Well I do call girls bitches sometimes. I also call guys bitches. I suppose that makes it ok. some people wouldn't agree but whatever.
Me in drag. I just can't see it. Well actually I can see it. After the cute Japanese guy said his little piece an actual drag queen popped up and agreed that I would look great in drag and demanded/encouraged me to come let him help me get in drag at his party in November.
I don't know about all this. I'm not into this. I've always been anti-drag... for me. Maybe it works for other people, but in my world it doesn't fit... but now I'm curious. I keep imagining myself walking in heels and a short skirt. (shortly after i picture that i stab myself with a needle.) I really want to let that guy take my picture. I saw some of his stuff and he does good work. Me in drag. 
This is the drag queen who wants to help me get into drag. He... she... this person says they'l let me use their clothes and shit, and i can drink for free and basically act a damn fool at the club.
I don't know, but I do like to drink. That much I know.
Tuesday, September 19, 2006
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