Foreign men.

Foreign men in Japan have a notorious reputation for being absolute dickwads. There’s no getting around it, and from personal experience I’d say about 70% of the male foreign population I’ve come in to contact with have been pretty much that, or there is still a glimpse of the OK person they used to be, but in the land of pussy-houdai their head and ego have taken over their personalities to a point of no return. Saying that, a few of the closest foreign friends I’ve had have been blokes, but that has been the way my whole life, so maybe nothing to do with Japan. Since I’ve been married though, there hasn’t been that much opportunity for male foreign friends, so pretty much the only contact I have is with one guy I work with at the kindy and random gaijin I run into.

Now every foreigner who lives in Japan knows the awkward dilemma of what to do when you come in close contact with another gaijin. “Do I say hello? I don’t want to look all eager… But it doesn’t hurt to be friendly right..?” Questions like this often flash through my tiny little brain as I contemplate whether to ignore the foreign elephant in my presence, acknowledge it, or actually choose to interact with it. If it’s a foreign mummy, I’ll pretty much always say hello, because, you know, we have an equal respect for each other. When it comes to foreign Daddies, I find them to be very standoff-ish, like they’ve been caught out and can’t get away from you fast enough, I’m not really sure why, so I usually ignore the fucktard Daddies. If it’s a foreign woman alone, it’s tough, if they look friendly enough maybe I’ll say hi, but then, I have to think about the look on my face, Do I look friendly? Or like I wouldn’t be approachable…? It’s all a very complicated process! But when it comes to foreign men, they pretty much always ignore me, again it’s like they’ve been caught out impersonating a cool, hot guy but as we all know, the foreign woman is Charisma man’s kryptonite and will take him down if she discovers what kind of shit web he has been spinning in order to date hot Japanese women.

So after a while and a few crushes on foreign guys, I gave up. “Fuck em’!” pretty much became my philosophy on the whole matter. Until recently when I have come in to (not close enough for my liking) contact with 2, not 1, but 2(!) fuckable, friendly foreign men! Why aren’t you all like this?
The first guy I met when I was running, so highly sweaty and embarrassing, but I was jogging along this really long path and in the distance I saw what I thought might be a gaijin but sometimes your mind plays tricks on you, so I tried not to look too hard until he was close enough. Surely, when we were within eye contact range, he had a smile on his face, and it wasn’t a “I’m a fucking nutter” smile, or a “I want to sell you some religion!” smile, it seemed to be a genuine smile, and he was hot as well, almost unheard of!!! Of course I had ear phones in and I only slowed my jog to say a quick hello, but we got a quick pass by conversation in to establish he worked at the Mitsubishi factory (doing English type stuff I presume) near where I run. I will definitely be on the lookout for Mitsubishi man whenever I run from now on.

The second was kind of a bizarre meeting, I usually take Ash to kindy on my bicycle and go down a big arse hill, at the bottom of the hill they are building new houses at the moment and I always have a bit of a squiz to see if I can spot any hot construction dudes (I have a total soft spot for construction workers IN JAPAN, they seem to be old and fat in any other country). As I was scanning for macho man talent, a bare chest caught my attention, not for any other reason except J-guys usually never take their shirts off, it’s really not a thing you see much of. And as I suspected, when construction man turned around, he wasn’t Japanese! He looked a fair bit older and had the sexy Latino feeling to him so I thought he might be Brazilian. Just as I was drooling over him, my tyre busted on my bike (see whiney post) sending me in to a bit of a tailspin (literally). It was the total opposite of graceful and I made some sort of strange squealing noise like a small pig being slaughtered, I also had the misfortune of wearing a skirt that day so I’m sure my bright pink knickers were flashed quite freely to all the construction men who had looked over. A few of the guys closest to me wandered over and with a bit of a giggle still on their and lips informed me my bike was in fact, fucked. Gee thanks! The spokes of my wheel all over the place and my knicker flashing stack hadn’t indicated that at all!

Shirtless sex pot had somehow put a shirt on and had come over to look for any other spokes that had come off my bike and as I said thank you to the other useless dicks I looked at him and said “Obrigado…かな。。。” I didn’t want to just assume he spoke Portuguese but fortunately I was right, unfortunately he then started babbling in Portuguese to which I just said “Ahhhh, sorry!” like a big knob. (Note to self: Learn Portuguese). He gave me a sexy smile anyway and I was on my way. I’ve seen him a few days this week and always say hello so my man candy levels are up, and my faith in foreign men has been a teeny tiny little bit restored! Of course the recent troop of male Japan bloggers are also pretty cool, but you never really can tell someone’s level of dickhead until you actually meet them.

On a slightly related note, Ryota has been quite the model husband lately! Last weekend he got up before me, put a load of washing on, (seriously probably the first time ever seeing as though he used fabric softener instead of washing power, but it’s the thought that counts!) tidied up a bit and went and got McDonalds breakfast for us all so I wouldn’t have to slave over a hot toaster! My initial reaction was suspicion and unlike most women who might assume this sudden change in behavior means cheating, I suspect there will be some surfing related consequence, a new board/wetsuit, a trip away or something of that nature. Or who knows, maybe he is shagging some slapper, because his shagging techniques have totally improved too! I was dumbfounded last night when he actually tried to kiss me, I was so confused I did the whole head wobble thing and we ended up just cracking our foreheads and giggling but again, solid effort from the Ryo-chan meister! OK, enough of my sex life, I have to teach Junior high school kids and I don’t want to be thinking sexy thoughts for that.

Happy weekend all!

Paranoia...

I’m thinking I smoked too much weed in high school because lately, I have this horrible sensation that I’m going to die. And yes, thank you, I know we’re all going to die some time just in case some smart arse would like to point that out (you know who you are!), but I mean die young. I can’t explain the feeling that well but it will be when I’m riding my bicycle and this image flashes over my eyes of a car coming out of a side street and hits me, and it’s so real that I actually squeeze on the brakes and go all wobbly! Or the other week I was driving home in heavy rain and I just kept imaging a car coming from the other side of the road and smashing in to me. Am I going insane?!

It may also have been fuelled by the fact that I was talking about palm reading with a student and she examined my hand and was all “Ohh, Corinne sensei, you have short line of life!!” and I was all “Ohhh, well, fuck then…”
If I died now I can’t say I’d have any regrets but you know, not quite ready to kick the bucket yet!

Palm readers, yoroshiku!




Or maybe this irrational fear is just the ghosts of my childhood coming back to haunt me. I was an incredibly nervous child. Like, I didn’t take any risks, at a really young age. I blame my parents and their constant fights that lasted all night while I lied in bed trying my hardest to block out the screaming, banging and name-calling that went on for hours. I would wake up tired and emotionally drained and I’m sure it well and truly fucked me up. I remember being in the first grade and staying up worrying about high school and what it would be like. In first grade! This little kid with big worry creases in her forehead, chewing on her teddy Bear's ear worrying that there’d be too much homework and I’d get lost in the halls. Damn, now I think about it there were all kinds of incidents indicating that I was a tad mental! I cried once for fear of being locked in a clothing store that was getting ready to shut because my mum was still getting stuff from the shelves when they pulled the shutters half-way down. I wet my pants in the 2nd grade in front of every fucker because I was having a stress attack about forgetting my assignment. You get the picture.

Along with the nervousness and fear was the fact that I never took any risks. Roller coasters- not a fucking chance (only the one time my sister bribed me with hot macadamia nuts, I’d do pretty much anything for that shit!), all theme park related fun was too risky for me, I was like a fucked up 50 year old stuck in a child’s body! I can honestly thank Japan for getting me over that though, or maybe it was getting out of my parent’s house…hmmmmm. “There's enough material there for an entire conference.” (Gold star to anyone who knows where that quote is from) Whichever it was, I managed to turn my nervous fears around the day I stepped on to the plane, and I was fucking terrified, I had the runs the whole way on the plane here, I was so insanely scared that I almost became numb and convinced myself that I could come back home if I wanted to. And technically I could have, but really I was forced to stay, at least for a bit. And after I got a taste of the fear, I was hungry for more. It was all bungee jumping and tattoos from then on, I was living on the edge, and I liked it! Not a dollar spent in therapy and all I had to do was grab the scary feeling by the balls and say “fuck it, I’m doing it!” the adrenalin (and some alcohol) does the rest.

So I think I need some thrill seeking, this is why I’ve been all paranoid about death lately, it’s been way too long since I’ve done something that would classify as 'on the edge'. I hadn’t even realized I’d been playing it so safe until the other night when I was teaching a Junior high school kid, who, don’t get me wrong, is a lovely boy. He studies hard and plays badminton and wrote me a beautiful New Year card that said he wanted to try hard to speak English this year, but he’s like every other robotic JHS kid here, boring. Boring people annoy me because it’s just so hard to make conversation with. I can forgive this in kids, the Japanese school system and little life experience make it almost impossible for them to go any other way and hopefully by giving them the freedom to express their opinion and actually think outside the “This is a pen” box when they talk to me, they’ll get better, but in adults, it really fucking pisses me off. Take for example the question: “What do you do for fun?” Valid question, if you answer it with “I like sleeping.” I will have images of smacking you in the head with a blunt object so you can be sleeping for a very long time. Of course this isn’t a realistic reaction, so I point out that I can’t go anywhere with that answer, plus sleeping is not a hobby, it’s a basic function, give me something, anything else! Anyway, the point I’m getting to, is this JHS kid has to ask me at least 3 questions at the start of every lesson and the other night he asked me “Where did you go last year?” And I thought about it…. And I realized I didn’t go anywhere. So I had to answer with “Ummm I went to Osaka…” In this little meek voice because I was actually thinking, ‘Fuck me dead I’ve become one of the boring cunts I fantasise about whacking in the head!’ OK, so I had valid excuses of an infant and new business, but it shouldn’t matter, I didn’t even go on a trip anywhere in Japan! So I have vowed that before the year is out, I will do something slightly risky, something that is pure fun and I will go on a trip overseas and a trip somewhere in Japan.

Because who knows, that mashed up life line could end tomorrow, and I’ll be fucked if I have to tell St. Peter that I was a boring cunt, he’ll never let me in to heaven!