The good, the bad and the toilet sobbing.

OK, so I was going to put up a post about the nice weekend we had just to reassure you all it isn’t always so bad in my life… I’ll put the pictures up before I get to more moaning…

Annnnnnnnd on to the moaning we go!!! (Click away if you don't want to get depressed!)

OK, warm and fuzzies out of the way, we did have a good weekend, but things continue to be quite bad between R and I. God, am I abbreviating him in some horrible psychological move to distance him from me?? Or am I over thinking and just being lazy…?
Anyway, last night saw a pretty big fight that has continued in to this morning and we still haven’t talked yet.

Where do I start… Where did it start…??? Oh that’s right, I’ve been sick this week (hence the lack of blogging/doing anything constructive, sorry!) I had tonsillitis last week and this week I’ve had blinding headaches and no appetite all week. It could possibly be the heat, I’m not sure, but whatever it is it’s just making me feel fucking awful. I try not to whine about it, but sometimes I can’t help it and screw up my face in pain as blood pumps behind my eyes until I almost pass out. Now, I know it’s annoying to be around someone who is always sick, but at least Ryota could have pretended to be sympathetic… The response I got the most though was, “Ohhhh, but you don’t have time to go to the Doctor right??” (In a very sarcastic tone) Why the fuck did I teach him sarcasm?? But I swear to God it’s true! I have very little time to go to the Doctor unless I cancel a day of lessons, and when you run your own school and you are the only teacher, it just doesn’t go down well to cancel lessons, I know students would understand but I’d either have to refund money or make-up lessons which just fucks me off no end. Plus, I hate Japanese doctors, I hate any doctors but I hate not being able to fully explain myself and then being told something that I think is pure bullshit. As it turned out, I went to the doctor this morning and when I told him I’d had a headache for 3 days straight he said… well, nothing! Gave me my prescription for my fat medicine and called in the next patient! Japanese doctors have got to be some of the most useless fucking cunts in the world, surely there’s a study on that somewhere!?
So anyway, moral of this: He has very little (in my opinion) empathy with me. And yes, I don’t want him to baby me like I can’t do anything myself, but I don’t know, I’d like him to just be a bit…nicer? Maybe I’m being picky and spoiled here but it still kind of upset me.

The next thing, and it may have been building from the doctor tiff, was the fucking glass bottles. Usually, I get our rubbish ready to be taken out the next morning and Grandma comes and collects it from out genkan and puts it out with hers. I’m very grateful for this, it’s one less thing I have to worry about in the mornings, but I’ve never asked Grandma to do this, I could just as easily put hers out with ours on the way to kindy, but she tells us she likes the walk to the rubbish pile, gives her a bit of exercise. Whatever, go for your life granny! Yesterday was glass bottle day and we had loads of the bastards because I ‘d cleaned out the fridge after constant bellyaching from Ryota about how it was crowded and dirty. (And fair play, there ended up being about 15 salad dressing bottles!) I find Japanese rubbish sorting sooooo tedious, I know it’s good for the environment and all but I’ll be fucked if I am separating every bastard thing every fucking day, I do the bare minimum and occasionally sneak something prohibited in to get rid of it. Fucking shoot me.

So when I got the bottles out, I poured out the contents and gave them a swish with water, I didn’t wash them until they were squeaky clean, because quite frankly who could be fucked?? A housewife with nothing to do but polish her wooden floors for a 5th time that day, maybe. Me? Nope.
I put the bottles out and Grandma said something about them being dirty later that day, but when I looked at the rubbish pile there was nothing left so I assumed they’d taken them. So we get to 7pm last night and I got home after teaching about 15 kids in a row and still with scorcher of a headache to Ryota saying: “Soooo what’s for dinner??” and again, I fucking hate making dinner, use your half brain cell and get something yourself you cunt!! Was what I said in my head, but I kept my mouth shut and got Ash some pizza, to which Grandma said “Pizza’s no good for him, I’ll make him some fish!” To which I replied “NO THANK YOU, the pizza is home made and is perfectly fine for him.” Through gritted teeth. (The more I write the more I realize I was getting more and more pissed off as the night went on). The whole ‘in-laws dissing my food’ is another whiny post in itself by the way…

So we go back to our house and I start getting Ash’s dinner ready and Ryota says to me: “We have to wash the bottles next time…” and I said “Oh, yeah, I know, I did wash them, just not totally clean.” And then he said “Well, you have to, I got yelled at!” And this just pissed me off no end, so Grandma got angry at Ryota, he told her to yell at me instead but obviously she won’t do that, because I’m not part of the family enough to be yelled at for shit like that (probably a good thing).

I then got a bit huffy and said “Fine, I’M doing all rubbish related duties from now on, Grandma doesn’t have to.” And Ryota got really pissed at me saying I was childish and I shouldn’t try and deflect my own mistakes. He has a point here, I mean I didn’t wash the bottles and then I got huffy. And I think this is where the heart of our problems lie, in a situation like this, I feel totally alone, by myself, shag on a rock.

I feel like I have no supporters at all, they’re all against me! I know this is ridiculous but it’s just an automatic thing and my reaction is to get defensive. Then when Ryota gets angry at me, I feel EVEN more alone. Take, for example, last night. Ryota didn’t talk at all, I made him coffee as a peace offering and he snatched it without a thank you and the only person I talked to all night, was Ash. Which isn’t really counted as conversation when it’s just him saying “GRRRRRRRRR!!!!” lots and me saying “Oooooo you’re a scary dinosaur!!” Although I think his senses picked up when I was sobbing in the shower (Ryota hates crying and calls me pathetic if I do it in front of him) and he came and gave me a big hug before smacking me in the head with a rubber ducky and giggling.

And so when we got out of the shower, I couldn’t stop crying. Because I couldn’t help feeling like I didn’t have a soul in the world that I could have talked to at that moment. (I have fucking tears in my eyes re-reading this!)

So I went to the toilet and pulled my knees to my chest and cried to the point I almost couldn’t breathe because I was so lonely and wanted someone to be on my side to give me a big hug.

I’m craving affection. Kindness. Sex!!! Haha it’s been at least a month!

I don’t think I can change him, so I need to make some decisions… and possibly a new blog titled “How to get a divorce in Japan…” And definitely a top quality vibrator in the meantime...

My random Peruvian shorty

So after I woke up the next morning to empty cans and the smell of a guy being in my house and realized what had happened, I felt slightly ashamed of myself before hopping in the shower and washing away that shame to face a new day and all it’s new possibilities! Actually I probably wasn’t that ashamed at all at the time, now of course I feel a bit weird, but only because I’m literally like a nun these days!

I had plans to meet up with my friend who lived near me and her long(ish)-term Peruvian boyfriend. Now I didn’t want to be a third-wheel on their date but when she told me her boy was bringing a friend too I didn’t want a set-up kind of situation either (there’s no pleasing some people!). But S assured me that the friend was short, like REALLY short, so I wouldn’t be interested anyway. I don’t want to discriminate against short guys or anything, the problem is actually mine, I’m abnormally tall and the combo just doesn’t work well, it doesn’t work in bed, it doesn’t look right if you’re walking together (especially when you hold hands), and it just makes me feel like a big lanky giant. So, I avoid short guys, a little bit shorter than me is fine, just as long as it’s not noticeable.

We had planned to go to Kobe for the day of fucking around and eating Brazilian BBQ and we all crammed in to the car for an hour of the most mixed up conversation I thin I've ever had, this was the language make up of the people in the car:

A (S’s boy)- Speaks Spanish and Japanese
J (Shorty)- Speaks Spanish and limited Japanese
S- Speaks Spanish and English
Me- Speaks English and Japanese

So we didn’t really have a common language among us meaning that there was a lot of translating going on and muddled up lessons as A tried to teach me Spanish but I kept putting Japanese particles in between the vocab I knew in Spanish. I think my brain only has space for two languages maximum!
When we got to Kobe we did the usual shopping and purikura shite, I should have known something was going to happen when we took the purikura, as it was very couple-ish… But I’d had numerous chu-hais by that time and was so excited by the thought having a happy ending with all I could eat Brazilian meat shaved off the bone at my table by a hot Brazilian waiter that not much could have pissed me off that day. Fuck me I want to go to that restaurant again!!

We rode the roller coaster, well S and I did, the boys were big pussies and then got to the restaurant for dinner. My expectations were well drooled over and we ate meat and all the other goodies until we could hardly move, that’s when we switched to drinking spirits that wouldn’t make us any more full than we already were. This was dangerous as vodka and I have a rocky past and it’s been known to get me in to all sorts of trouble. If I’m ever arrested my only defence will be “It was the vodka officer!” We decided to go to a club and get really fucked up, we danced until we’d sweat enough to not feel so full anymore, and then we drank and drank until we were about to collapse. I’m not actually sure how much A drank, I know it wasn’t as much as the rest of us nut it was still incredibly stupid for him to drive the good hour and a half home… All vodka I swear! S and I literally lived less than a minute away from each other so they pulled in to her car park and the awkwardness of pairing off began. J said, well I think he did (it was in Spanish) “Where am I going to sleep!?” S’s apartment was SERIOUSLY small, like one of those half LDK kinda box joints where tall fuckers like me couldn’t even get in to the bathroom (if you could call it that) without smacking your knees. After a few minutes of drunken arguing it was decided J would come and stay at my house. I’ll be honest, the lack of communication and his shortness made me almost not screw him. VODKA!!!

Now this one I really have very little recollection of, but I remember him being better than old Shingo the night before. I seem to remember his dick being average sized and that he got me there without much assistance. Must be the Latino lover effect… He had a good smile and lovely hair and tickled my back until I fell asleep just like I love so he got a 7. Not mind-blowing but good enough! (he also lost points for shortness, sorry, harsh but true!)

He stayed until morning, we met A and S for a sheepish, embarrassing lunch where the boys gave each other the equivalent of linguistic high fives in Spanish and S and I gossiped as I retold my shame in English. I saw J a few times again but I managed to avoid the vodka and therefore sleeping with him again, he was a nice guy though!

And so the weekend was almost over. Almost…

My drive-by traffic signal

I LOVE this blog! But every time I read it I get pangs of envy and maybe a pinch of regret that I am not single and having fun anymore.

My brain has been on overload lately, I often think about things too much and sometimes I just can’t stop obsessing with an idea in my head that it takes over pretty much any downtime my poor substance abused noggin’ can handle.

I think recently it’s been a combination of this, this and this post that have come together in some horrible gooey ball of ideas that I want to either have an affair, or leave my husband. Isn't that just horrible, random and shocking!?!

(P.S. If you know me in real life do me a favor and don't, like mention it to him in conversation or anything... Thanks!)

Of course as new ideas, events and other such shiny things are put in front of me I may forget this notion, but it’s strong at the moment. Re-inforcing my theory all along that I should never have gotten married so young and for all the wrong reasons. But... that shall be put on the back burner for the minute, as I re-visit my slightly more slutty yet ever so enjoyable past with a story from the single days!

The Peruvian, Japanese, Turkish weekend (Part I)

I’d like to say I’m a multi-cultural kinda gal and my boy toys were no exception, any nationality, skin colour, accent, I was open to just about anyone! (sexually explicit pun intended) I always avoided people I knew really well, like say, work colleagues. There were many reasons for purposely avoiding having ‘one night love’ with people I had to face the next week, for one, a lot of them were dipshit foreign English teachers. Nuff’ said… Another being the old ‘don’t shit where you eat’ kind of thing, I didn’t want to smear my reputation too much in the office. And the only other option were the Japanese office guys, who were either not worth it personality wise, or fun to flirt with, but more than likely duds in bed, plus they were all about 22 years old fresh out of university and hoping to clamber their way up the corporate ladder to the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, otherwise known in Japan as a pension and 10 days holiday after working like a dog for 30 years. Not my type at all…

So to the big city’s clubs and bars are where I mostly found my lovers, it was fun, fuelled by copious amounts of alcohol and easily forgotten the next day if you could ignore your pounding head and desire to vomit up the ramen you ate at 3am on the way home the next morning.
There was one particular weekend that sticks out in my memory (I actually have a pretty good one people tell me) where it was a whirlwind of drinking, shagging and general craziness that left me completely exhausted.
Friday night~ I was walking home from the station when I saw a car slow down as it passed me and pulled in to the conbini near my apartment. I didn’t think it was that odd, not like back home where you’re scared a serial killer might drag you in to the car and torture you or anything but then I saw a young-ish (I have no idea how old he actually was) guy poke his head out the window and stare at me. Again, not that strange in a land of people who like to stare at whities, but enough to get my attention. I ignored him and went on my way but then the car came past me again and slowed so that he was looking at me and obviously wanting to talk. He was cute so I decided to be a bit of a flirt and said “Do you need directions” and he laughed and said in fantastically rubbish English “Yes! You house please!” Still, pretty smooth for a J-guy, I was instantly impressed.

I told him to go back to the conbini and I’d talk to him there, I totally intended to take him home but needed a little bit of well-lit talking time to make sure he wasn’t going to slice me up and eat me or anything. When I got back to the conbini he was inside buying cigarettes, I wanted to go in but I didn’t know him from a bar of soap, couldn’t really just rock up next to him, but I also wanted to buy beer for myself so made a drinking motion at him through the window and pointed to the back of the store at the fridges. He finally got it after much gesturing and got chu-hai instead, but it was alcoholic, that was all that mattered.
When he came out we sat in his car and drank and talked for a bit, he was determined to speak to me in English which set off gaijin hunter alarm bells but after we started kissing he gave up which was a big relief, nothing worse than being asked what the past tense of a verb is while you’re trying to give a blow job.
I’m not one for car shenanigans, I like my own house and all the comforts so I told him to ‘walk me home.’ I don’t remember if the conversation was that awkward but we laughed a lot, he told me his name was Shingo and I asked if he minded that his name just made me think of a traffic signal and he couldn’t stop laughing. I told him my name and he said Korea!? Korea!? Still, laughter is an aphrodisiac for me, I guy could be super hot but if he doesn’t have a sense of humour then I’m just not interested, so it was all good.
Once we got home I did my OCD ritual of teeth brushing and face washing while he drank and watched TV, and when I was finally ready we got to bed. The dirty details are a bit sketchy but I’d give him a 6 out of 10, he had a pretty small cock but didn’t really know what to do with it which was worse than the actual size issue. He must have been pretty young because he kept asking me for direction, which I was more than happy to give, but my Japanese wasn’t the best back then and I kept losing my moment because I was concentrating on what to say. It was also all over red rover pretty quickly AND I’d gone to the trouble of giving him head but ended up finishing myself off- fuck, now I think about it I change his rating to 5, he gets bonus points for being funny and sweet. He got dressed and started with the bullshit of… “Errr what’s your number…blah blah blah” but I was already tucked up in bed and mumbled that it was OK, I’d probably see him around some time at the conbini or something. Shocked or happy I’m not sure, but he left and I slumbered, having no idea I’d need all the sleep I could get for the next few days.

And for my Peruvian and Turkish stories, you’ll just have to keep reading!

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!

Antsy

I've heard before that women reach their sexual peak way later than men, like around 30 for women and 20 for men?? No? Am I just pulling those statistics out of my arse?? But whatever, I know it's definitely later for women anyway.

I knew things were getting desperate the other night when I had a graphically enjoyable sex dream. This would be great news, but you know who was my hot, steamy partner in this terribly horny dream??

Go on, guess!

Matsumoto Jun?? No. Cristiano Ronaldo?? No, I fucking wish. Won Bin?? No.

These lads would all have been welcomed in to my sex dream with open arms and wild sexual panting. But you know who floated my boat this particular night?

Steve. From Beverly Hills 90210... In the early years!

He annoys me even when he's not making wild passionate love to me! But I enjoyed it so much I felt kind of dirty when I woke up.
So you know, I figured I obviously needed to get some, if only to stop these horrible sex dreams involving bad 90's soap stars. Although, wouldn't kick Luke Perry out of bed, something about the bad boy image and husky voice... Anyway! This is the conversation that Ryota and I had after I woke up...

Me (AKA horny housewife): Morning! Oh my god I had the best sex dream last night!

Him: Really? Was I in it?

Me: Oh god no, you're never in them! (and a slight bow in apology)

Him: .............. (and a slight scowl in response to the apology bow)

Me: It was Steve from Beverly Hills 90210, so gross and random! It shows how desperate I am for a shag, think you can go the distance and actually stay awake tonight so we can get a shag in??

Him: Hmmmm 頑張る (I'll try...)

What the hell man!? If it's that much fucking effort maybe I should go find someone who is a little more ready and willing and doesn't have to try so much if it's really that hard (or not hard as the case may be!) He then tried to splutter and stammer his way out of it by saying what he meant was that he would 'ganbaru' to get to bed early, not to work up the will to get a leg over. But it was too late, damage was done and I was already ranting away and it wasn't even 8am. He then pondered over his honey on toast and said, "I know, I'll get you a vibrator for Mother's day!" To which I ranted again that I didn't want a fucking vibrator, I wanted a husband who's cock was as genki as I'd like and instantly started giggling because I actually used that phrasing and imagined a little cock with a smiley face on it...

Thank fuck our neighbours can't understand half our conversations.