Monday 20 December 2010

Dear December...

Just fuck right off would you!

Since when did the 'most joyful' month of the year become my living hell?? It seems that it gets worse every year! I have had no time to enjoy the Christmas spirit at all for a few reasons: 1) It doesn't exist in this Japanese world of superficial, commercial Christmas bullshit. 2) The school is busy and getting busier with 2 Christmas parties planned for this week, the main one I have to do totally by myself (more on this later). 3) The only thing I have to look forward to is New year which instead of me drinking champers on the beach with a hot bloke will be me hibernating under the kotatsu drooling over calorie-laden mochi that I can't eat.

OK not quite, I am shutting the school for a week, which will be a nice break, and my bestie and her fiancee from Oz are staying with us for a while over the break so I shouldn't be such a scrooge!

I've always looked forward to Christmas, but not this year, I'm doing a cookie party at the school on Christmas day and then doing normal lessons in the evening so working is always a good way to squeeze that Chrissy spirit right out of you. I'm contemplating cheering myself up by moving Christmas to the Sunday for us and heading to Universal studios and then a hard rock cafe meal, however that will be my calorie intake for, hmmm, the whole Christmas holiday! (15kgs down though, and fitting in to my 'skinny dress'!!!) Oh yeah, and the cookie party will be totally organised and run by me because Ryota feels 'awkward' doing things at the school, ummmm fucking suck it up and help me biatch, 15 kiddies and icing are not a good mix! I suspect he will be guilted in to helping me though, if not I may recruit BIL to help me, he's childish and will play with the kiddies and just dumb enough to follow my instructions without question.

We've spent the last 3 days buried in shit and vomit, Ash managed to pick up norovirus from kindy and seeing as though he vomited all over me at least 3 times I was bound to get it too. Although I should count my lucky stars as both of us were vomity for about 2 days and then not too bad. Still, any vomit is bad. Ryota was being a bit of an insensitive fucker when I was ill, I had to walk to the fucking conbini myself for lemonade and made it VERY clear how not happy I was with that display of prick-ness. He did a bow and a sumimasen and promised to be more gentleman-like in the future. I should think so too!

Anyway, fighting fit now and looking forward to getting all this Christmas bollocks out of the way so I can do pretty much nothing for a week. We've been Oosouji-ing (big-arse clean up at the end of the year, equivalent to Spring cleaning?) our bums off since yesterday so hopefully the house will be spotless and junk free (well, shoved on the verandah at least) for the break. Right, speaking of junk, must go put the rodeo boy away in storage, yet another exercise machine that will never be used. Yahoo auction, get ready for a rodeo boy... Anyone want it!? Bloggy mates rates, as in free to good home!!!

Saturday 11 December 2010

Seriously, do not mess with a girl craving calories!

I successfully had the biggest fight I've ever had in Japan today, well, with a stranger anyway.

I'm more of a lover than a fighter, I don't usually stir shit for the sake of it and am pretty tolerant, but the horrible man who got in my way today (quite literally) just pushed me way over the edge. He didn't even do anything that bad, you know, in comparison to say, wanking on my door or shouting racist slurs at me or anything. (Both of which have happened to me incidentally!) But it was just his pure stubborn rudeness that fucked me right off!

The day started out with an annoyance. I woke up and Ryota was gone, and because the space in the genkan was suspiciously empty exposing my lack of dusting it was quite obvious he'd pissed off surfing. He'd mentioned it a few days before so I wasn't that upset, I Christmas shop way better without him anyway. Then, as I was leaving I couldn't find my ipod, not a disaster, but planned on going to the big shopping centre about half an hour away and it was either half an hour of hearing Ash saying "CAR!!!" every time he saw one, or, cranking up some good bad music and singing really loud, freaking out all surrounding traffic. After frantically looking EVERYWHERE and even breaking the golden rule of going beyond the genkan with shoes on (I was wearing boots, who can be fucked!?) to have one last look, the tiny little bastard was nowhere to be found. I also checked my handbag at least 4 times but it wasn't until the 5th time that I found it in a side pocket. So major annoyance was avoided, music was cranked, and off we went on our final Christmas shopping adventure. This was my 3rd trip this week, I've discovered that when you have small children, doing shopping in dribs and drabs is much more effective than trying to do a mammoth day, they just get too tired. All I had to get were a few bits and pieces to fill out the family box and Ryota's present. He said he doesn't want anything because he bought his wetsuit earlier in the year but he totally knows I'm a gaijin sucker who would never not get him anything for Christmas. So I ended up getting him the G-shock surfing watch that he's wanted for ages, hopefully he'll like it.

I'm getting side tracked... Oh yeah, annoying fucker!!! So shopping went awesome, Ash sat and ate his lunch like a little angel, went around the shops with me like a trooper and only got tired just as we were about to leave, car sleep- perfect!!! It wasn't until we got to our little dirt path house that the trouble began. Basically, the road that runs off our dirt path (which is an actual road, although narrow as all fuck) is a two-way street that only fits one car. Go figure... So if there is a battle of the cars, usually the car closest to a street to back in to will do the right thing and let the other car pass. Now I have no problem with backing up for people, I usually volunteer, I drive a midget car after all. But a bit of appreciation is always nice, a friendly horn beep, a bow, a wave, anything is nice. I always make all of these gestures if someone backs up for me and I expect the same in return.

As I swung into the narrow road today, I was confronted with a black car coming the other way. Now, in my mind, it was logical for him to back-up, he was closest to the back-up streets as I couldn't back out on to the main road, but the arrogant fuck stick just sat there waiting for me to make a move. I think this is what gets me the most, sometimes in this situation, I have no intention of moving, but I at least look like I'm making an attempt!! This sit out went on for mere seconds but was already enough to piss me off, but seeing as though fucker wasn't going to move I figured, no biggie, just back in to the first street I could, let him pass, then drive easily out facing front. So I revved the engine a bit to demonstrate I was cheesed off and discovered he'd crept forward just enough so it was impossible for me to back in. I got as close as I could to his car which usually prompts the other driver to back up a bit, but noooo, not this arse. He just sat there!!! I revved a bit more before losing it and making wild hand gestures trying to say I was going to back in but I needed more room to get in. He didn't get it.
he then put his indicator on, so I thought he must have reconsidered his miserable existence and decided to do the right thing and back-up for me, but no, as I backed up, he just drove further, completely blocking me from doing anything. About 2 minutes of hand gestures later and the cunt was still just sitting there. (Sorry for using cunt but I'm getting angry again just thinking about it!)

I couldn't take it any longer I got out of the car and yelled at him to move back as there was no way I was backing out on to the main road. He then muttered something and I really lost it. I don't know if it was 6 years of Japan frustration, the diet pills pulsing through my veins, my body starved for fatty food and beer... (that will be taken care of tonight!) But I actually went off my tree, and in English too which is quite rare for me as I like to break the "me no speaky Japanesey" stereotype. I think my screeching rant went something like this:


It was possibly the exploding vein in my forehead, the tone of my voice or the amount of obscenities, but the coward just rolled up his window and looked at me, dazed and stupefied. I think he was thinking 'Oh fuck, I've messed with a mental gaijin, are her biker friends going to come and beat me senseless soon!?'

I got back in the car and really revved my engine then, I had visions of 10 things I hate about you and Fried green tomatoes where the characters just go mental and ram the fuck out of the arsehole car in question, but alas, my life isn't a movie and my insurance definitely does not cover "Ooops!" He backed up but still not far enough for me to back-in. I could hardly believe it but gave in for fear of actually having a stress-related heart attack and drove in at wild speeds while giving him the finger and another bout of insults. I'm sure he's watched enough American movies to know the meaning of the finger. I also jotted down his licence plate and Ryota assures me if he sees his car he'll be vandalising appropriately.

Fuck me I really need a drink!!!

Friday 10 December 2010

The dream

I have a dream! Wow, those words sound vaguely familiar...?

Anyway, doesn't everyone have some sort of dream that they know will 99.9% never come true, but it's nice to fantasise about it anyway?? Maybe most of us are too embarrassed to admit what it is though?? Go on, I dare you to tell me what yours is!

Ever since I was old enough to write I've loved it, despite being a lefty and 'in the old days' going to bed with pen smudges all up the side of my hand I've always loved writing stories. Of course, when I was younger, those stories were always fictional, because my life was as boring as bat shit. But living in Japan somehow makes life interesting, there's always some story of dog-fucking sister-in-laws, crazy Japanese customs or the stress (and quite often, hilarity) of being in an international marriage.

So I have my dream, and just to fit the cliche, yup, it's a 'I'm gunna write this here book' dream! I even have the title picked out, and the cover graphics! But I figure if I want that tiny, teeny little chance for my dream to come true, I gotta get jottin! So I think January will be a daily post challenge month. December can fuck right off because it's half-way done and, well, just a bastard of a busy month.

In other news, some of you asked how MIL is going with the diet. She's doing really well actually! 7 and a half kgs down, and that's with no exercise. Goes to show you that exercise really does make a difference though, I definitely eat more calories than her in a day but also jog 5kms too. I can totally see the difference in her face and neck but she's pissed that everyone is commenting on my weight loss and nobody has said anything to her. I explained that I was fatter than her to begin with, therefore the weight loss is more noticeable. Plus the poor pet is really, really short so the pudge just sort of gets re-arranged. Giants such as me however get all lanky when they lose weight, one of the many advantages of being tall! (Along with helping old ladies reach high shelves and everyone assuming you're a Russian hostess...)

I'm planning to get my mototrbike licence some time in the new year, of course if I get the licence I'm going to want the shiny new motorbike to go with it but we'll cross that debt-laden bridge when we come to it. I've had my eyes on one of these for quite a while now and when I casually mentioned it to Ryochan he almost got a hard on he got so excited at the prospect of going on motorbike rides on the weekend. He couldn't believe that we would both have a common hobby. The current arrangement of him surfing and me drinking is not good for family togetherness and shit. He's already planned our first trip to Shiga to take in some fresh country air. Always does get a bit ahead of himself that boy.

Right, going to spice up my Friday night by hearing the same boring shit from some Junior high school students. I'm seriously thinking of bribing them to tell me something other than: "I studied. I played volleyball. I was fun..."

I'll also leave you with a shot of my amazing, incredible, magic shrinking face. I had another comment from the teacher at kindy today that my face very well might disappear soon... Worrying thought. I really should get some bastard to take a photo of me to do before and after flab loss. Sassymoo, your job on Saturday before we get plastered!!!

Wednesday 8 December 2010

And so it begins again.

Oh yes, the dog-fucker tensions are again rising. I'm going to compare her to, say, North Korea, (because if she could read this it would really piss her off...) she's a loner with ridiculous ideas on how the world works, aggressive, annoying and the rest of the world wishes she would just fuck right off.

Things have been quite calm of late with my dear dog-fucking sister-in-law, it was almost as if the big SMAP blow-out of 2010 didn't happen. Of course, being the grudge holder that I am, I haven't forgotten that she is actually a mental case who could go berserk at any moment, but on the exterior we've all been playing happy families. I've given her a lift a few times, she's watched Ash for me, so it's been all good.

Then the other day, a haircut was mentioned.

Dog-fucker and I used to go to the hair salon together, in the good old days before I felt like smacking her across the face every time I saw her, but since the SMAP argument, there have been no happy hair salon excursions, and quite frankly I was glad all that shit came to an end. It always ended up awkward anyway and if one of us wanted to go to the salon the other felt obligated to go too, even if we didn't really need anything doing. I rarely have the need to go anymore either, since I've recruited MIL to dye my roots for me and am growing my hair so don't really need cuts all that regularly. But when we got our discount tickets in the mail and dog-fucker asked me if we should go together, I looked at my split ends and thought that a trim couldn't hurt so agreed I'd go if my teaching schedule allowed.

Now, it's OK for her, all she has to do in a week is:
*Fuck the dog, as much as possible.
*Feed the dog. (All that love gives him a big appetite.)
*Walk the dog. And make sure to lick it's arse after the fresh turd pops out.
*Walk the dog at 5am and then sleep-in until lunch time every day. Because all this dog business gets exhausting!
*Go to work. Once every 2 weeks, if that, mind you.

So for her, it really wasn't that hard to find a time to go to the salon. On the other hand, I have to do things such as clean and cook and pay bills, work, shop, organise, budget and a whole other heap of shit that she would never understand as she's still got one of her mummy's tits in her mouth on a permanent basis. (I'd mention Grandma's tits too as they come into the equation but that image is very disturbing... trust me I've seen them!)
But I was sure a compromise could be met by me giving her a window of best time for me, which happened to be Thursday or Friday mornings, I have lessons but not until the afternoon. So she calls the salon, and makes the appointment for...Thursday afternoon! Silly twat. What part of morning did she not understand?! In my day morning meant before 12, not at 12, not after 12 and certainly not at 2pm. She mailed me the result of her useless appointment making skills and I promptly replied back that 2 was no good for me, but it was no problem, she should just go get her cut, I'd go another time. I was the one after all that has an awkward schedule.

Now seeing as though she was the one who fucked up the arrangements, I thought this was a pretty fair reply, I think I even put a little bowing man symbol in to signify the fact that I was humbly sorry for my busy-ness (how Japanese of me...) So I was more than a little fucked off when she replied back with: "What time are you teaching?? It's only a cut, it doesn't matter if it's not at the time you're teaching, right?"
I didn't reply to this, because 1) I would have just been repeating what I'd written in the first mail, and 2) Don't fuckin question me bitch, if i say I've got shit to do, I do!
I think this is one of the things the in-laws really don't get, Ryota included. Teaching (especially when you teach everything yourself from scratch) is all about the preparation. Especially kids lessons which require cards and games and materials and all that fiddly stuff.

So long story short, my mail snub resulted in total silent treatment snub from her over the last few days, which is cool, if only she could leave it at that but I know there will be some big confrontation at some point in the future over this. She may even bring Kimutaku back into it and claim I've been slandering him behind her back. Who knows with that crazy one.
Ryota also accidentally deleted her ipod music library the other day too which hasn't been helping with our family relations, I snickered on the inside of course. So we shall see, you all will be the first to know the minute shit goes down!

Diet update, for those interested:
12kgs down but appears to be slowing down, this could be due to the fact that I've been quite lazy and not running as much as I should be.

Friday 3 December 2010


It's reading stories like this that make me want to never sweat the small stuff again.

Wednesday 1 December 2010

Screw the diet pills...

I'm going on the 'My husband is an absolute wanker! diet.'

No, not really, although if we had arguments every day like we did the other night I would be a supermodel by the end of the year! I've found that if Ryota and I have an argument I lose all my appetite, even if could have eaten the crotch out of a low flying duck before the argument, I'll feel totally sick after a tiff. I've informed Ryota that if I look porky again any time soon he is to immediately pick a fight with me, the more trivial the better! Destructive marriage behaviour 101 right there...

It wasn't so much the actual argument that got me pissed off but it was the fact it made me think about my whole life and the system we were going by. Gotta hate it when thought is provoked, if only I was a simple trailer park girl whose biggest worry was what daytime soap to watch! Anyway, what happened was, I had to work until 8pm the other night, which by Japanese standards isn't anywhere near late, but is quite late for the one who has to organise the whole house or it turns into utter chaos. Anyway, I had prepared dinner earlier in the day when I'd had a break between lessons and it was in the oven ready to heat up but my bad, I didn't mail Ryota to tell him this. So Ryota got home at 6pm, as he does every night (VERY early for the usual J-guy!) and was cheesed off that the kitchen appeared bare and both him and Ash were grumpy and hungry. OK, first of all, poor fucking baby! Deal with it bitch, it's not that hard to pull something out of the freezer and shove it in the microwave! Or order in, I don't give a fuck. Now this is irrelevant, as I had made dinner, but he didn't know this at this point.

So fast-forward to about 8:15 when I shuffled in the door, tired and sick as a dog with some vicious cold and get absolutely no response from Ryota, who looked frazzled and irritated as all fuck. This is how it went:

Me: Hey, how was your day?

Him: OK. ........................... ..................... *scowly face*

Me: What's wrong, why are YOU pissed??

Him: Where's my fucking dinner, and Ash's fucking dinner!?

OK, he actually had the balls to say 'fucking' as well. That was when I immediately hit the roof and started quizzing him if he knew what year it was, you can't just say things like that to women anymore, we're likely to cut your penis off with a carving knife for that shit. I also pointed out the awesome looking gratin in the oven, chips ready to be oven baked and salad in the fridge. He went quiet then and muttered a sorry but I swear he still looked pissed off. I then tried to tell him calmly that despite the fact I had actually made dinner, even if I hadn't, he needed to lose the pampered Japanese boy routine and man the fuck up and cook something without whinging like a pussy bitch about it. He then told me the reason he was so pissed off was that there was a big plate of choc-chip muffins I'd baked on the kitchen table (errrr hello, wife of the year, wouldn't most men be happy with that!?) and he thought I'd baked muffins but hadn't cooked dinner. First of all, I'm not that dense, or fond of baking for that matter and second, who the fuck does he think I made those buttery, sugary choc-chippy goodness filled muffins for!? Certainly not this diet queen!!! Mother fucking ungrateful shit he is.

So turns out it was actually a misunderstanding on his part and a lack of communication on mine, but I couldn't let it go. I spent the next 24 hours contemplating the fact that in our house I am responsible for:
-All the housework, as in everything.
-Getting Ash ready in the morning.
-Giving Ash a bath (he dresses him afterwards)
-All grocery/clothes/household shopping.
-Dropping off and picking up Ash from kindy.
-All kindy bullshit duties like meetings and open days.
-Organising and cooking dinner every night.
-Putting the rubbish out (usually the man's job!!!)
-Running a business by myself, in a language that isn't my own.

And I got to thinking that it was slightly fucked up! So I huffed off to bed without dinner that night and then took 24 hours of silent, awkward interactions. The next day we had a big talk and came to the decision that on days I finished later than 7 or was really busy, Ryota is in charge of cooking. Of course he'll need 4 weeks in advance notice and for me to buy everything and then clean up after him, but fuck it he's going to have to do something!

Marrying the oldest son in a Japanese family is really quite tough, I'm still hacking away at those bastard apron strings!