Friday 18 March 2011

B.O!! Err, I mean... D.V!!!!

Ryota often mixes the abbreviation "B.O." with "D.V." Ironic, as I can see the funny side of this post but it actually should be quite serious.

Ryota and I had a big fight the other night. And I mean BIG. The biggest we've ever had, and it actually got physical.

Now, before people go booking me in to the nearest women's shelter (do they even have those in Japan, I should investigate... Although I fear mine would be called "Sassymoo's house...) I should point out that I did actually technically start the violence, and it really wasn't that bad... Fuck, reading that over I already sound like a battered wife defending my husband!

Most foreign wives would be able to snap their J-husbands in two but since I've lost some of my sumo-like blubber I'm getting a bit scrawny, plus Ryota is fucking built like a brick shit-house compared to most skinny J-guys, I guess the whole outdoor hard work or whatever, so yeah, I was actually a bit scared for a few seconds. Until the scared turned to hot, piping rage and he copped a blow from behind as he was walking out the genkan.

I should back up and explain the whole story though... This may take a while, it always seems to.

So... this was Wednesday night, and this whole week, like most people in Japan at the moment, life hasn't really been that...fun. We are being bombarded with images of death and destruction, worrying about our friends in the North, not knowing whether to believe fucking dramatic American journalists with their tales of nuclear doom, or the 'little-bit-too-fucking-calm-for-my-liking' Japanese officials. It's just not nice and we've been feeling the pressure. Not that this is an excuse, but we've both been a bit more snippy with each other than usual.
So Wednesday, Ryota took half a day off, so he finished work at 12pm, and I was teaching on and off until 7. Now this equation seems logical to me. Ryota+finish work early= He cooks dinner. No? Am I wrong here? But me knowing Ryota, knew this would be too much for his tiny little brain to handle, so instead of telling him to just 'rustle something up' I said we'd have fried rice, I would cook the rice, and get all the ingredients he needed. All he had to do was chop, chuck and fry.
Chop. Chuck it all in. Fry the fucker up.
Not that hard, right? Wrong. At about 6pm while I was still teaching, I got an email with loads of angry, ranting Japanese about me being wasteful and buying too much and then at the end "Are you stupid?!" (in English). Now if he could actually speak English, this would probably read as "Are you really that thick you dumb bitch!?"
I called him, explained as nicely as I could that I actually took all the stuff out of the fridge and in a shopping bag and only ended up buying bacon and eggs as we already had all the other stuff in the fridge, and to be fair to him he totally apologised and it was all good.

Except that it wasn't really. Even if I had made a mistake and bought the stuff instead of using the stuff in the fridge, is it really that big of a deal? Does it really warrant an abusive, nasty mail while I'm at work?
So I got home, and he's there in the kitchen, sweat running down his face, flustered, running around like a blue-arsed fly... All because... He had to make fucking fried rice. Fuck me dead it was a production! I should also note that he'd dumped Ash at Grandma's house so he couldn't even use the "Ash was being an arsehole" excuse. I also stared, wide-eyed, at my kitchen, which is never that clean, but was a serious bomb site. What is with men NEVER cleaning as they go!? And using all new forks and plates instead of just rinsing!? needless to say, it would have been much less stressful if I'd just cooked the fried rice myself.

Right, going to have to be the rest of the story tomorrow, I'm cold and hungry. (And I sure as hell aren't letting Ryota in the kitchen again!)

9 comments:

  1. Hope you worked things out, I can understand thought that tensions are high and sometimes they just get the wrong outlet. The whole tragedy here has taken its toll in many ways!

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  2. I learned a long time ago it's easier to just keep washing my plate or bowl right after eating so I don't have to feel the pressure of washing it hanging over me. I keep my living space immaculate because...it's easier than cleaning messes. I thought neet people were too uptight but they are just lazy people with high IQ's

    Keeping shit clean as you go burns less energy than just keeping shit clean.

    I'm Martha Stewart's unclaimed child or somethin?

    It's easier oh lazy people of the world. Trust me..I'm one of you!! :)

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  3. Why don't you just get a divorce? It really sounds like you both can't even stand each other. Life's too short to be with someone like that. As we've all seen lately, it can all be gone in an instant.

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  4. Because the man actually is a decent bloke Christine, and quite hot to boot, produces very cute offspring and has a nice mother. Pity he can't cook dinner without so much production but! Maybe it was all part of the plan? So you wont ask him again :)

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  5. Gaijnwife has a point, the more of a production he makes, the less likely you are to ask him. I suggest buggering off on a little holiday to MIL's house for a few days, leave him to take care of himself. He'll appreciate you when you come back.

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  6. I agree with gaijinwife regarding christines comment.

    I think (assume) that C uses this blog as a venting space, not as a forum for passive aggressive "advice."

    But yes ... Japanese men. I think most people in Japan are finding this situation pretty hard, and Japanese men seem to be less able to vocalize it than others. So Its easy for normal situations which would normally be laughed off the next day to get out of hand. Hope your okay though Corinne xxx

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  7. He's hitting you? He's HITTING you?

    No, I'm sorry, not OK. I agree with Christine's comment.

    Sorry C and Gaijinwife, but these men show no signs of changing - even when push has come to earthquake. Do you really think that's a good environment to raise your children in? Do you think putting up with abuse (of any kind) is worth it? I grew up in a toxic household and divorce was the best thing to ever happen to our family. There are no medals waiting for you after a lifetime of putting up with dipshit husbands who do not understand what lovely, beautiful creative, warm, funny, intelligent, hard-working women you are.

    (And I'm engaged to a Japanese man... who doesn't act like a Japanese man at all. So... actually nice, decent, respectful men are out there in the world.)

    Your blogs just break my heart. With natural and man-made disasters, why put up with violence in the home? You have a choice.

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  8. By no means do I condone putting up with domestic violence. If my husband slapped me round I wouldn't stay. If he touched me in front of the children I wouldn't stay. He has hit me once. once. around the shoulder. open hand. I do not put that into a category of 'domestic violence'. We should have different ways to cope with anger. Totally. It's funny how a few years of sleep deprivation will fuck you both over though.

    I hope that anyone who found reading my blog heartbreaking would stop reading it and find something more appropriate.
    I'm sure when I was engaged to my husband, that reading similar blogs would have enraged me and made me think 'whats the silly bitch thinking, just get out'.

    I don't, and corrine doesn't either, blog about every day flowery, I made muffins and knitted another shawl' type stuff. We use our blogs to vent about the bad shit. I, and I'm sure corinne isn't exempt from this either, tell stories that come out perhaps sounding a bit bigger than they were - I am by no means decreasing the bad ass shit that happened and that her husband was out of line but sometimes I can right a post on 30 seconds of reality and that is all people see of my day.

    We don't 'PUT UP' with violence in the home. We don't crawl into the corner and take it. There is nothing to fuckin take. It isn't happening.

    Sorry, Corrine, I'm not trying to belittle any of what happened and if the fuckwit does it again bash him over the side of the head with a frypan,

    None of this is coming out right - making me sound like my husband beats me up and I'm all for not getting out. I just don't think I live in a 'toxic household'. I don't expect a medal but I expect myself to give it a good bloody shot and if that means telling my husband that I'll take my kids away if he ever lays a fuckin hand on me again - well then I have. I'm not ashamed, and I will carry through with my word.

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  9. I wish I had a dollar (U.S., Australian, New Zealand or Canadian -- ANY dollar)for all the times people have said to me, "Just leave your husband, you obviously hate him, just leave him and go back to your own country where you are clearly happier living, and the kids would be so much better off growing up in a house with no tension."

    If I had a dollar for every time, I could probably fund the tsunami relief all by myself.

    But I think the vast majority of the time, the commenters mean well, just don't know the whole situation, and probably never will.

    I have pretty much the same love/hate relationship with my husband as I have with his country.

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