But it was a way too comfortable lying in bed. We start kissing a little when her period starts. No effing kidding. It must have been why she was so temperamental yesterday crying for no reason that I could figure out. I'll be honest, I had always thought that the crying jags were just an urban myth surrounding women and their menstruation period, but now I'm not so sure.
Since it's now too late to go to Nikko - our (or maybe just mine) favorite place to go buy antiques for personal consumption (it's why I have so many pre-1868 ukiyo-e Japanese cherry woodblock prints) - we get dressed and ride our bikes to the Nishinasuno-eki (Nishinasuno train station) for a less expensive excursion in Tochigi's capital city of Utsunomiya.
At a department store, I purchase a Pyrex dish for my own cooking attempts and a sake cup for John Hobel, a guy I went to journalism school with a last year back in Toronto.
As Ashley and I walk alone amongst the crowds of people of Utsunomiya we pass by Sue Dixon and another AET (assistant English teacher) we don't know (Ashley knows) who stare wondrously at either us as a couple (didn't we break up famously?) or at my eye-patch (when did she start dating that cute pirate?).
We grab some lunch and then head to a movie theater that shows American movies with Japanese sub-titles (IE a foreign film). We are going to see Mortal Thoughts (obviously not my idea - women have a habit of bending me around their effing fingers sometimes - which is fine... I want to get laid, and the easiest way to achieve that is by seeing stupid movies like this one. I hope.) and see a couple more AETs - Anne Marie Provenzano and Lisa Arnold. Anne Marie wants to know why I am trying to look like a guy from the television show Twin Peaks.
What a twit. Sorry... I misspelled that. There should have been an 'a' in that word rather than an 'i'. I don't know why... but seeing other AETs here in Japan kind of just sets my teeth on edge. It's like I'm in Japan, and excluding my present company, there should only be Japanese people around. Et tu gaijin?
My mood quickly turns black (it seems to be a common trend these days) as I am not in the mood to hang out with or talk to these two.
Then we see Stephanie Chan and Bev Stephanson - and despite me eye-humping them both (I only have one eye working thanks to a scratched cornea and a very fashionable eye-patch made by Ash yesterday) - I am not talkative.
They ask us if we want to go for a drink.
I don't want to - perhaps because I am eye-humping them individually and together and thus feel slightly uncomfortable - but Ashley wants a drink.
That means we go for a drink. I swear... the things a guy will do to get laid in Japan from his ex-girlfriend who is American. Why am I not screwing a Japanese girl? A Japanese redhead with big boobs! That's my ideal. Hell... I'll take two out of three! Any day!
Still... Ashley senses my reluctance - probably because she heard my sphincter slam shut in annoyance, but I tell her it's okay - let's go for a drink gaijin style (that's drinking with other foreigners - I don't know, I just made it up).
We head to some place called Lindbergh's, but there's a private party going on. Rather than go somewhere else, Ashley begs off for both of us.
We take the train back to Nishinasuno-eki, ride the 10 minutes to her place in Nishinasuno and then I leave for my place 30 minutes away. By the way... the kiss was awesome. Stupid period.
I'm cold and lack depth perception and nearly put my bicycle into at least three different rice fields lining the road before I get smart and ride down the middle of the street.
Stepping inside my luxurious three bedroom apartment at 307 Zuiko Haitsu, I take off my coat (and even my shoes - but don't put on the ridiculous Japanese slippers), slip under my kotatsu (Japanese heater table) quilt and open up page one of my new book, the very aptly named Last Chance To See written by my favorite author Douglas Addams (he did the Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy).
Page one, paragraph one, sentence one, first word is -
Ding-dong!
What the hell? It's 11PM?!
I struggle up from under the kotatsu and head to the front door. As I move my head towards the peephole, my depth perception - or lack there off - cause me to crack my head against the door.
Dazed, I forget to look through the peephole and weakly open it up, holding my head in pain.
Someone walks in.
Before I can glance up, I feel a pair of dry but wet lips upon my own always dry but wet lips. I don't even have to open my eyes. I can smell apple blossoms in the air.
Junko.
Damn. No sleep for Andrew tonight.
I love my secret girlfriend. And I have missed her more than I realized. I think I am jealous of the boyfriend she is not sleeping with.
More tomorrow.
Somewhere out of my my head,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is sung by Little Anthony And The Imperials:
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