No Fun

It’s Saturday, December 21, 1991. I’m alone in bed for what feels like the first time in months. It feels good. It feel strange. I don’t like it.

Since I arrived here in Ohtawara-shi (Ohtawara City), Tochigi-ken (Tochigi Prefecture), Japan back in the summer of 1991 nearly 17 months ago, I’ve been lucky with women.

It’s the complete opposite of what things were like for me before back in Toronto, but then again, I’ve kind of re-invented myself over the past few years from a shy, nerdy kid to a shy nerdy kid who is pretending to be an extrovert.

I think I’ve fooled everyone but myself. Or... maybe I have grown since arriving here. Maybe I am more confident. One can actually start to believe one’s own lies until it becomes the new reality. Maybe I am more extroverted – not completely of course.

I still like my secrets.

Now in 2012, I recall my mother telling me back in 1990 before I left for Japan that it’s good to be open with everyone, but it is still important to keep some secrets – secrets that you might share with some people, but not everyone. It seems strange to recall those words of my mother now passed from this mortal coil nearly 18 years ago... especially as I do my own tell-all via this blog. Man, I miss her.

It’s true you know. Boys/men would like to find a woman like their mother. Mine was charming, pretty, smart, and above all funny. I’ve been told I’m a masculine version of that... but I’m not smart enough to believe it.

Back to 1991.

The phone rings at 9:30AM. I’m racing out of bed, for some reason, to answer it. I already know who it is. It’s Ashley.

She’s at the train station and is heading back to Georgia to see her parents. Matthew has already left for Binghampton, NY earlier.

Everyone has gone or is going home for Christmas.

I’m not.

Last year, Matthew & I spent Christmas and New Year’s here in Ohtawara. Not many AETs (assistant English teachers) on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme tend to do that, as they use Japan as a stepping stone to go and visit other countries. Last year, Ashley went to Thailand. I was supposed to go, but we had a massive fight. I lost., as usual, and stayed in Japan.

Ashley has called to apologize for her behavior last night, saying she should have let me spend the night considering we were both freezing during the five minute bike ride from the train station to her place – and I had another 30 minute bike ride ahead of me to get back to Ohtawara.

Yeah... she should have let me stay – especially when I asked nicely. It was her birthday, and I guess she didn’t want me around. No big deal. It doesn’t matter that I bought her dinner and drinks when she was out with her friends. We aren’t a couple anymore.

By the way.... have you, as a man, ever watched how women are when it’s time for a bill to be paid? Cheap! Calculators come out to calculate the tip to the freaking yen. I don’t care. I know you aren’t supposed to tip here in Japan, but I do anyway. They can be insulted all they like, but aside from belching, providing a good tip is the best way to show that you appreciated the attention shown you by the serving staff.

Her apology doesn’t make me feel any better, as I have a tendency to never forget a slight, no matter how small. That’s my own tragic flaw in my character. God forgives. I don’t. Unless there’s a chance I could get laid, in which case, I just put the ‘slight’ away until I am done.

Hey. This blog is cheaper than a psychiatrist.

After she wishes me a Merry Christmas et al and says she will see me when she comes back, I pack up my own clothes and toiletries and ride back out to the train station.

I take a slow JR (Japan Rail) train down to Mamada – a small Podunk of a town and meet James Jimmy Jive Dalton.

We go out for some Japanese food – neither of us can cook real Japanese food – and then watch Scrooged on a video tape of his.

We both get the craps and pass out asleep at 11:30PM.

Even in his sleep, James keeps farting.

I can’t stop giggling at how ridiculous it is. Zzzzzzzzzz-braaaaaaap-zzzzzzzzz. The cacophony coming out of both ends of James last for 15 minutes before I turn over, let out something quiet but deadly and hope that I still have a live traveling companion tomorrow morning.

We’re going to Singapore.

Somewhere looking forward to having fun,
Andrew Joseph
Today’s blog title is by The Stooges, led by Iggy Stooge now know as Iggy Pop who reinvented himself as required. The Stooges are, to me, one of the earliest punk rock groups along with the MC5.

Lay Down

Today is supposed to be my first official day at the AET (assistant English teacher) JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Conference in Gunma-ken, where, to be honest I have no idea what city I am actually in.

Really.

You can already see my level of commitment to this event.

It's December 17, 1991 and I've been here in Japan since late July 1990 and I'm feeling a whole lotta burned out, as evidenced by the fact I used the word 'lotta' without a Led Zeppelin reference - oh, there it is.

After last night's debacle of being called a 'player' by other guys who were proud to call themselves a player,  I wasn't in a great mood. Other people I mentioned this too seem to believe there is nothing wrong with being called a player - especially since I have slept with a lot of women.

Yeah... I have. But I didn't promise anyone anything except for a good time then and now. I never pretended to be anyone other than myself and was always open about it. There's nothing wrong with that, and no woman has ever complained about it  - so why the hell does the opinion of three drunk guys bother the fug out of me?!  

Yeah, I'm probably still drunk and and very tired now at 7AM, but I'm only 27. No big whoop. I've woken up drunk many a time since arriving in Japan. Since I am able to function in a normal manner, and I don't make a habit out of getting drunk, I don't believe I have a problem. Again... I'm 27 years of age and away from home for the first time in my life and only since arriving here did I lose my virginity some 14 or 15 women ago.

I've let my hair down and am sowing my wild oats. My hair looks good - it's down just past my shoulders, but I wear it in a ponytail with a stretchy band that matches whatever solid colored shirt I wear. Yes... I do think about these things. (2012 Andrew here: I believe I was a meterosexual before the term was coined.)  

After the probable breakfast of watery scrambled eggs, extra crispy and salty bacon, dried baked beans, a glass of orange juice (which recalled the vodka that went with it last night and caused my stomach to grumble in anxious retaliation),  I went to sign-in for attendance to a conference session.

Tragedy struck as I discover, much to my tightening sphincter, that I was not actually on the Conference List of attendees, and that I actually did not have a room to my name.

I suppose I could have paid for yet another hotel room as I did last night when I arrived early.  I mean, I know I'll get whatever money I spend legitimately back from the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) office for whom I work, but that won't be for a month. But I'm going on vacation very soon, and I need to not spend too much money between now and then.

Anyhow.... the conference people - as they tried to figure out who's fault it was, stuck me in a hotel room with some Saitama-ken guys who were actually nice enough considering there was a strange drunk gorilla-like fellow in their midst.

They know I snore right? Loudly, right? Which is further amplified in proportion to the amount of alcohol I can breathe in, right?

Poor, poor, Saitama-ken AETs. I would feel sorry for them, but at the time, it never even entered my thoughts because I don't actually know that I snore except from a having a room of Tochigi-ken AETs threaten to kill whomever was snoring like a jet plane with asthma at an overnight stay at on a mountaintop onsen getaway last year - and from Matthew who says I get sort of loud - like being at a Who concert. I like Dr. Seuss.

Ashley, my ex-girlfriend with whom I recently broke up with as my friend-with-benefits, has never complained... and she and I usually sleep on top of each other.

Whatever.

I get into the conference meetings and instantly wish I didn't. Booooooorrrrrrringgggg.

To break up the monotony, I decide to ask a lot of questions of the speaker, which has the crowd mumbling in agreement or anger at me delaying the end of the event. To quote Bugs Bunny, "Ain't I a stinker?"

I hang out with my buddy Matthew for a while until he decides to go for a nap, or ditch me to go and scope out some Japanese women to practice his skills on.

Me? I find our mutual buddy Jeff and get stinking drunk with him...then go out to a movie theater and watch Home Alone (or were we in a hotel room watching it on TV?)... and then push our way into the Head Teaching official party and sing and drink with all of these Japanese teachers. Lo and behold - there's Matthew.

Now, maybe the alcohol is making me melancholy, or it was the movie Home Alone or maybe it was even this morning's bacon that was as salty as the ocean's tears, but I was feeling a bit down (I had written the word 'depressed' originally, but that is not accurate).

I'm down about Ashley and talk my head off to some poor middle-aged female bureaucrat with a prefectural board of education, whose name I never learned and who made the mistake of asking me "How do you like Japan?"

So I tell her. I'm not just the type of person to tell you I'm fine if I'm not. I used to lie. Lie all the time... but when I turned my life around at 18 and stopped being a small kid who was picked on all the time, I grew up physically and mentally. The emotional part I am still working on in 2012.

I know the poor woman wants to escape, but I can see it so I don't let it happen until I tell her my whole story... and when I finish... I have a small crowd of Japanese gathered around me, and perhaps because they are bored, they ask me a lot of questions.

In return, I get a lot of sympathy and drinks poured for me. I'm sure that poor woman wonders how her question about Japan garnered my response about some poor woman named Ashley - but that kind of sums up this whole damn blog. Of course... I was getting a good buzz on by this time... or maybe I just enjoyed playing with people since I am considered a player now.   

At the end of the evening, rather than go to the room belonging to the Saitama-ken guys (where my luggage is!), Jeff invites me to crash in his room. The only problem is that he is sharing a room with Susan Dixon, another AET from Tochigi.

No one is sure why reservations were lost or why men and women were sharing a room with people they didn't want to, though I do suspect that when Sue was asked by the hotel staff if she liked Jeff Seaman, her answer of "Who doesn't?!" probably meant she only partially understood the question.

Anyhow... Jeff's room was also lost, so they stuck him in with her, because she likes Seaman - that's just a guess, of course... I have no idea if she does - so when Jeff invited me to crash for the night, Susan was pissed off royally at Jeff and now she hates me and my Seaman. Probably one of the few times I can say that and actually mean it.

Still... Jeff won out despite Susan's protests, more than likely because we were too drunk to care what she said.

I slept in the bathtub with a pillow and a couple of towels draped over my arms to keep the chill away that was being emitted by Susan as she grumbled about someone snoring like the gates of Hell had burst forth from their fiery hinges. Hunh... I always though fire could melt ice, but she proved me wrong.

B-b-b-b-b-b-b-itch. That's all folks.

Somewhere not impressed with Gunma-ken,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Canadian metal group (sounds more like Rock, though) Priestess. I love the music, and the title seems to fit.:

Stuck In The Middle With You

Today is Monday, December 16, 1991. I spent a half-day at the Ohtawara Board of Education Office (OBOE) in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan before I left and met up with my buddy Matthew.

The two of us are assistant English teachers on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme.

We rode to Nishinasuno-eki (Nishinasuno train station) and took a JR (Japan Rail) local train down to the capital city of Utsunomiya so he could get his Sony Walkman fixed.

We then took took a slow train to Omiya and caught a connecting slow train to the conference place in Gunma. Just another lazy day... arriving there at 7PM.

The hotel was pretty nice as we drop our stuff off in Matthew's room and then as we are walking around to get some food we are immediately set upon by Mr. Arakawa, the head of the JET Programme in Japan (I think).

He asks me why I quit as editor of the Tatami Times - and I tell him how I felt cut-off from the other AETs. He said it was too bad because he said the newsletter had never looked better or been more fun.

His partner in crime Mr. Kamioka also stopped me to ask the same question, but was really more interested in seeing if I wanted some sake (Japanese rice wine), that he knows I can drink like water. For some reason, I figured I should eat first.

First rule of power drinking - make sure you have eaten so that there is something to throw up. I kid. It's true, but I have only puked three times while here - and I think it mostly had to do with a drink called a Flaming Blue Lamborghini that the local bartenders in Ohtawara make to try and see if I will go blind, or die.  I have lousy vision.

After paling around with Matthew at dinner, I spent the first night getting pissed drunk with the crowd of AETs from Ibaraki-ken. I hate cliques now  - like the Tochigi one - mostly because I'm not part of it. Not cool enough, or perhaps they are just too stiff - most of them - for my liking. I have no idea where Matthew went, though.

Within the Ibaraki group, I meet Laura who is the editor of their newsletter. She's very cute and I'm sure I could have made a successful pass at her, but even Mohammad need not climb every mountain he saw. But, I decide not to be the slut I have become and give us both a break from my stand-up comedy act.

Near the end of the evening, I have a drink or seven with Tyson and Ian and are joined by David Turner who starts whining about how he hates Japan... but we somehow turn the conversation to our favorite topic - women. These guys are first years, and I'm in my second-year year here in Japan. We talk about women.

The guys suddenly do a toast - like they were planning it before I arrived: "Here's to Tochigi-kens four big players!"

everyone laughs, except me as I crack a polite wry smile. I wonder just what it is they heard about me to say something like that.

It bothers me... I mean, yeah I like women and I have slept with more than my fair share, but I never 'played' a woman to get sex. I was just around, and was picked up by the women. I've been pretty honest with the women I've slept with. I don't think I've ever promised them anything other than a good time... so, me as a player? No.

One of the guys actually brags about how much money he has 'borrowed' from women. He actually did the finger quotes, implying he wasn't actually borrowing, but taking with no intention of paying them back.

I can't stand this, and after the toast I make like I'm toast and head for bed. It's 2AM.

Somewhere I feel like I've been played,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is by Stealers Wheel, which if you listen to the lyrics seems to fit in perfectly with how I feel some of the JET AETs are.

   

When The Music's Over

It's Sunday, December 15, 1991 and I'm a junior high school English teacher in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan hired via the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme.

I've spent a strange weekend so far with my ex-girlfriend and ex-friend-with-benefits, Ashley, also an AET, but one who teaches at the Ohtawara Boys High School (and Girls school, too!), and who lives in the nearby town of Nishinasuno.

I get up at 9AM and wander around getting her sunglasses fixed - I have no idea why I did that, except perhaps to prove that no matter what I am still a nice guy. I am. Really.

Matthew comes over at around 1PM and the two of us search Ohtawara for Christmas cards - and actually find some in a small shop that sells foreign artsy-fartsy stuff situated about five minutes between our two apartments.

After moving to his place to watch television and eat some pizza, Matthew and I ride out to Nishinasuno-eki (Nishinasuno station) and ride down to Yaita-shi (Yaita City) for an AET Christmas party hosted by Usha Persaud.

I had called Ashley earlier at around 1PM to ask if she wanted to travel with us, but I woke her up to make her suffer upright from a nasty hangover from the large amount of sake she and I had imbibed last night. Ha.

Lucky me can get drunk but has never, ever had a hang-over. People say it's because I haven't drunk enough, but truthfully, I never met a bottle of booze I couldn't suck back. I just don't get hangovers. Maybe it's my genes. My uncle Harold Joseph used to be able to hold his alcohol, too and also never got a hangover. And he was famous in India as the conductor of the New Delhi Symphony Orchestra. Harold wrote the closing ceremony music for the 1982 Asian Games, and was the Director of India's Military Music. I suppose he was the reason I had to learn the accordion and piano, and can play all brass, woodwinds and keyboards - I even taught the clarinet and piano and brought a set of keyboards and my clarinet with me to Japan. Harold died in the mid-80s of Myasthenia gravis, which if you watch the TV show House in 2012, is always an incorrect guess by the team of doctors for the impossible illness of the week. His drinnking ability may also have contributed to his death

Ahhh, but I digress.

Will Gardner was there to meet Matthew and I at the Yaita train station. He was with Karen, thebubbly redhead who would like a chocolate boyfriend (moi), but doesn't want to share me with Ashley, with whom I still "date". Me? I'd rather just sleep with her like I do with Ashley and keep my options open. I've always been honest about that fact, too.

Anyhow... Will Gardner and I have been pissed off at each other (and in 2012, I no longer recall why), but all of that is forgotten Matthew knowing of the tension keeps things light as is his wont, and everyone starts chatting amicably.

At Usha's place, all of the local AETs from the northern part of Tochigi-ken were there - though there were two Japanese people joining us... one of Usha's Japanese teachers of English and a high school student who was extremely hot and kept staring at me.

For dinner we had turkey, pate... cranberries, stuffing - the whole works... everything that I had purchased for Ashley a few weeks ago for US Thanksgiving (I'm Canadian, eh), but she 'forgot' about our date and instead went out whoring or hanging out with guy friends in Utsunomiya. Riiiight.

Hey... I may be an idiot as far as women goes, but I'm not stupid and usually think the worse, and thankfully have yet to be disappointed. Thankfully?

All evening, Karen is trying to be slutty and dominating to me - to perhaps impossibly convince me I am an idiot for not wanting her as a girlfriend. Riiiight.

So I dragged her off to a quiet room and told her off, which completely caught her off guard because I think she thought I was going to make a bold move on her. She's still trying to get me, but I'm not having any of it.

Dinner was great. Jokes galore and heady conversation. I'm unsure when I became able to dominate a crowd with my sense of humor, but it happens without me actually trying, and I notice it's happening as its happening, and i swear I always try to squelch it. But try being known as the guy with the ever-present smile who can quickly add a witty comment to any conversation - I'm simply just not allowed to wallow in self-pity by the others who like being entertained.

Let me just state, that a part of me likes being the entertainer, but I like it best when its my idea and not simply people hanging on for dear life to hear just what outrageous thing will pop out of my mouth next. It's never a plan. It just happens. I guess it comes from 25 years of considering oneself a shy person. I exploded.
    
Maybe it's because I actually want to entertain the hot-looking high school girl.

She just keeps on looking at me with her big brown eyes... listening to every word I spew... and laughing her  head off. She has no hidden agenda, except to have fun. Boy would I like to screw her brains out. But... teenager. I have morals, believe it or not. But she will be 18 in a few months...

I'll have forgotten all about her when the next pretty woman comes walking down the street anyway.

As the party ends, only Matthew and I are presented with a doggie bag each, which is appreciated. I'm pretty sure Usha knows about me throwing that uneaten turkey dinner out a couple of weeks ago and feels sorry for me.

Yes... Ashley was there. No, I didn't spend much time talking with her, but I did not ignore her either... I just left her alone to talk with whomever she wanted while I took over the room.

Arriving back at Nishinasuno, Matthew and I ride Ashley back to her tiny apartment. She gives me an ear warmer as a Christmas present, but there's no kiss. That's either because I've done something to piss her off again (not tonight), or because she is embarrassed to offer any public display of affection with Matthew around. Does that bother me? It always has. But apparently even when we were boyfriend/girlfriend, no Japanese people were supposed to know we were a couple. She said she was single. I always told the truth.

But know when we are supposed to be broken up, I can certainly understand why she definitely doesn't want to be seen kissing me.  (Whoops! In 2012, my cat just jumped up on my keyboard at 2:30AM, as she wants me to go to bed. Bad kitty!)

Matthew and I ride back to my place before he rides off home.

It's 10PM... I eat the leftover food and pack my clothes while I listen to some CDs. Tomorrow I'm heading off to Gunma-ken (Gunma Prefecture) for some AET meetings with other foreign teachers from Fukushima, Ibaraki, Gunma and Tochigi.

It's supposed to be a conference where we learn some new teaching techniques. That's all well and done, but shouldn't the Japanese teachers of English be invited to this so that they will allow us to incorporate some of the new stuff? My teachers don't like change and instead enjoy the simplicity I bring. Yes... I know what I wrote.

Somewhere tuning out,
Andrew Joseph
In 2012, I hardly drink anymore... and haven't been drunk in nearly 13 years. Still.. in 1991, I hadn't realized that yet, as it was all very much a challenge I enjoyed participating in.   
Today's blog title is by The Doors:

You Can't Always Get What You Want

I'm a junior high school assistant English teacher on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme living in Ohtrawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. I've been here for 17 months and I love it here. My only issue come from my relationship(s) with women.

Ashley and I lie in each others arms for an hour after we wake-up.

Tightly. Like we never want to let go.

Ashley had her hand on my chest and said it was was the most comfortable she's ever felt. Of course, she's only 23, but despite her young age, I had to agree I felt the same way - and I was an old man of 27.

I stroked her hair and and kissed her forehead. After what seemed like hours, I asked her if she wanted a back rub - a house specialty, despite me having spent the night at her place for only the fifth time since we both arrived her from different dimensions. She from Augusta, Georgia, me from the Twilight Zone. Okay, it's Canada, and it's pretty straight-laced, but I sometimes feel like I'm not. But I am. Sigh. I bet everyone else thinks that about me.

Anyhow, after giving her a real deep massage, I told her I had to stop. Why? Because if I continue, I'm going to kiss her entire body. I hear that a lot of women seem to like that, but with Ashley - who knows.

She's my ex-girlfriend who wanted to be my friend-with benefits instead, but them complained that I only seemed to want sex.

Andrew of 2012 would say he mistakenly equated love with sex, but is now smart enough to know they are not exclusive. Actually, none of that is true. I arrive here a virgin, and when I'm not with Ashley I'm boinking something in a skirt. Why? Probably because I have self-esteem issues. As well.. being virginal until I was nearly 26 - well, once the floodgates were opened, I wanted to ensure they were never closed.

So I asked Ashley if she wanted me to stop the massage or I would kiss her all over. In my book, no means no... but she did not offer up any answer. No answer means yes.So I kissed and licked her entire body. I have no idea why I had so much saliva that day, but I did. I was everywhere.

She said my mouth was very soft (probably the only thing about me that was - but you already knew that, eh?).

Let's just say, that with no holds barred (did I spell that correctly?), I still had no insertion order, so I was left to the deft hands of the woman who doesn't want to be my boyfriend or friend-with-benefit or even a lover. I mean... you really have to hand it to Ashley... and I did, as I finished and had a shower (maybe not quite in that order).

Perhaps it was pent up frustration, or she just had a good grip, but I was more than emotionally drained.

We cleaned up, and because there is no shower in her place, she spent 30 minutes filling up her tiny Japanese tub that you sit in with your knees scrunched up to your chest, and then had a bath. I am unsure how sitting in your own filth is supposed to make you clean, but whatever.

But do you know what I did while she had her bath? I read to her.

Ahhh young lust. I read her a chapter of Alice In Wonderland, my favorite book. It's all true, and is particularly difficult for 2012 Andrew to admit to that, for some reason.

We played Scrabble afterwards while she did some laundry and cooked her soup for tomorrow's party in Yaita to be attended by the northern AETs in Tochigi-ken. I hadn't planned on going, but Matthew talked me into it a week ago. While Usha is the host, Karen also lives in Yaita... and I don't need to have her acting funny around myself because of my relationship with Ashley.

I like Karen, but I don't want a relationship. I just want sex. Is that so wrong?

After, we rode our bikes to her school  - Ohtawara Boys High School - where she teaches for her bonenkai (office party). Mine was last night, and I skipped out feeling cheap and a bit down on life here in Japan. Again, not because of Japan or the Japanese.

I went home - no kiss in case someone there saw us, as I am a pretty recognizable person in my home town of Ohtawara. I don't know why, just that I am. It's better than being anonymous in Toronto, I suppose.

Back in my 3-bedroom apartment, I watched some TV and just relaxed until Matthew came over. I gave him his Christmas present and then just before we went out, he called Takako up and invited her to join us.

The three of us went to the 4C bar and did some heavy drinking.

Matthew and Takako were a lot more open in public after I let her know I knew they were a couple. At least someone knows. Here in Ohtawara, pretty much everyone knows if I am dating someone or screwing someone. Matthew? I have no idea how he kept anything secret, but since I knew nothing about him and his social life until a week ago... well... I was impressed.

Still... I bet he knew nothing about my stalker turned lover, Junko.

I went home and slept hard. I bet they did too.

Somewhere by myself,
Andrew Joseph
PS:  If I had known then on December 14, 1991 what I know now in March 12, 2012, I would see a pattern... that I seem to possess some sort of magnetic personality that draws people to me. The only difference is that in 1991, I crave it. I think I do in 2012... but I'm a lot more choosy about whom I crave it from.
Today's blog title is, of course, by The Rolling Stones. This video is from Saitama, Japan in 2006:

See The Light

It's Thursday, December 12, 1991, and despite the events of last-night, all is not crap for me here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan. It only just seems like it, though.

The alarm clock was set for 6:30AM, and when it goes off, I re-set it for 8:30AM. Today is going to be a sick day. Despite the fact that my stomach feels like it was kicked by a mule, it was only some Indian curry that made it feel like I was partaking in the sacking of Carthage.

But... my head is also achy... probably from coming down with con-junko-itis, who yesterday fooled me into believing she had called my office (the Ohtawara Board of Education) on my behalf to beg for a day off for me.

It was something I thought Junko might actually do for me considering she used to stalk me and I had to tell my OBOE to get her off me so I could sleep. They came and got her and took her back to school in Utsunomiya, and hopefully got her some sleep. But she's been better lately... while she and I meet for sex, there is no relationship. Odd, because we are both single... no wait... I am... she's not... she does have a boyfriend who buys her things, though. Me... I just give her things... if you know what I mean.

To be honest, I am afraid to talk to her about what she was going through. But never again. I will ask the tough questions. They don't have to answer, of course, and I will hate them for it, but at least I will have tried.

I make the call in to Hanazaki-san, who seems to understand as I tell him exactly how I am feeling. I have no reason to lie to him. The man knew I was being stalked by a sex-crazed Junko - and even though she was super hot - he knew I would never have complained if I didn't need to.

Hey... I was younger then.

Anyhow... my stomach is still out. I'm sure it's because of that curry diner I had with Matthew. It really shakes me.

... no wait a minute! That's an earthquake! The whole place shakes for 17 seconds. That's not a guess... I read about that the next day in the newspaper.

Anyhow... I was sick... and just to prove a point - I have no idea just what the hell I was thinking - I decided to get up out of bed after the earth stopped shaking at 11:30AM and go see what was in the fridge.

Oh look! There's a container food given to me by Mrs. Matsuda from the night school class I teach at on Monday. Guess what the food is? Uh-huh... Curry and rice. On the plus side, it's just curry, and was not the type of chili hot curry that hurt my bowels so very, very, very much.

So... 10 minutes later and no gurgling... the indian food stayed down. So I ate some left over lasagna I had made a few days earlier.

Later on, Matthew calls me to discuss women. Or rather: woman. Last night at the curry house, he determined that of the three women he liked, that Takako was the best woman for him. I have no idea what the others look like, but she's hot. Still, despite him saying that, I felt the need to tell him to dump the others and concentrate on her... something he knew, but probably just wanted someone else to confirm foe him.

Guys do actually know what's good for them and what's bad for them, but until they hear it straight from another guy's mouth, they will never fully listen.

So... apparently after our meal, he called up Mayumi - perhaps to tell her it was over - but she revealed that she had been dating another guy along with Matthew since November. Matthew was pissed off at her because she was using him to get stuff she wanted, and was going to dump him soon enough.

Oh boy... It's 2012... and I can't believe I wrote this in 1991, and wrote it seriously:

"Oh what a tangled web we weave, Matthew."

My diary entry continues: I play video games, do some laundry, and tidy up my apartment. Feeling lonely, I call up Karen, a Canadian girl who wants me for a boyfriend, but I just want without any strings attached, and then call up Ashley... my ex-girlfriend and now apparent;y my ex-friend-with-benefits.

Karen describes herself as a 'whale', which for some reason makes her less appealing to me.

Ashley invites me over to dinner tomorrow. Oh god. It's either soup or spaghetti. How come I have never seen a bottle of anti-acid here in Japan?

I go to bed early at 11:30PM wondering what the hell ashley wants? If Karen's description is accurate? if Junko is crazy? Or if Matthew and I are.

Whatever... at least I'm still getting sex... and with the best-looking one of the bunch (sorry, Matthew, but it's true).

Somewhere blinded,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is played by the awesome Jeff Healey, who sadly passed away four years ago on March 2, 2008. I have watched Jeff, a blind guitarist and singer play maybe 20 times between 1988 and 1990, and I consider him to be one of the greatest rock guitarists ever. Though, depending on his woman situation, he was either bang-on bloody fantastic, or bang-on bloody awful. He really felt the emotions from his women, and it affected they way he played. Even when he was down... it could be great show or a bad show (relatively speaking)... there was just something - that little unknown something, by the way - that could flip his guiitar-playing one way or the other. His song, See The Light, is dedicated to Matthew... who obviously saw the light. I still have not... or perhaps have been staring at the light too long and gone blind and am just waiting for someone to come and ring my bell and let me see the light.

Thinking Of You

It's December 11, 1991. I'm at my apartment in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan having just got off the telephone with Hanazaki-san, one of my two bosses at the Ohtawara Board of Education (OBOE).

He had just called me to find out why I did not go to school today to teach (at Ohtawara Junior High School), and I was confused, because I had thought that the woman I had spend the day with, the sexy and effervescent Junko had actually made arrangements with the OBOE to get me the day off so we could spend some time together.

Turns out the sly and wily Junko made no such arrangements - she had lied to me - or was having fun screwing me around.

I'm unsure if that's funny or disturbing.

For anyone else to have done that to me, I would be on the floor laughing my butt off. 

But Junko... ahhh, Junko. She was my stalker, whom I had to get the OBOE involved to get her some help months ago. The fact that she is now back in my life - albeit with a boyfriend back at Utsunomiya University where she goes to school in anticipation of being an English teacher - well, she seemed far more adjusted.

She no longer stalked me, and only showed up when it seemed like I needed her the most. Junko has no clue, however, that I need her all the time... but only if we could do something together as a couple... like have lunch.... in public... and not just stay inside my apartment rutting like horny pigs... uh, not that there is anything wrong with that. In fact, in many scenarios, that would be perfectly acceptable.... but I feel there is nothing wrong with one's sexual partner being more than that... a lover, if you will. Where you care about the other and she doesn't merely become an over-night sperm bank receptacle. Again... there is nothing wrong with that scenario, either.

But Junko is Junko. And I guess I not only want my cake, but want to eat it, too.

So... is what Junko did just now so bad? We went out for lunch - albeit in another town... but we did go out. And you know what... it doesn't matter which town we go to in this prefecture... excluding the really big cities of Utsunomiya and Oyama, people seem to know who I am. And with a supreme looker like Junko, people pay extra attention - even if it's just to see who she is with... and then they see... oh... that's An-do-ryu-sensei (Andrew teacher). Sukebi (pervert).

Yes... I am that well know. I hope. Or do I mean, I hope not?

 Hanazaki-san was aghast at me having been in contact with Junko again - having thought I was smart enough to have left well enough alone. But man... I can't get her out of my mind. Not from the first time we saw each other... or rather, since that first time I smelled her apple blossom hair.

I have little sense of smell and my sense of taste isn't so good either, so when something slaps me in the face and makes me take notice, I take notice.

Fortunately, Matthew pops by wanting to know if I want to go out for dinner. Matthew is an assistant English teacher like myself, on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme. He's an American, I'm a Canadian and that's where the differences stop as far as I am concerned, which means there are no differences.

We ride out from my apartment and I spy Miss Yaita, a teacher at Ohtawara Junior High School who wanted to know how I was since I was sick and couldn't come to work today.

Crap. This is already starting to hurt. Junko!

I tell her I'm fine, muttering under my breath about how fine Miss Yaita looks. Matthew was impressed at her fine self and at how she gave me a hug good-bye. A Hug? A Hug? She never did that before! I'm betting she could smell the sex all over me from Junko. It's my opinion that that scent makes men more attractive to other women. Perhaps they should bottle that? Eau du Skank.

Anyhow, stupid joke aside, Matthew may have been thinking of me as being of Indian descent, I might enjoy going out for some curry & rice, I agree. Until I met Matthew 16 months ago, I had never eaten curry and rice, much to the chagrin of my parents and every woman who ever dated me hoping that I could help them find a really good Indian restaurant in Toronto.

I only look ethnic. In fact, I have relied on the kindness of strangers to make me more ethnic by getting me to try new things because I have only ever wanted to me more Canadian. Funny, because Canadians (at least those that I have known) really have no problem in trying new things. Ah, me.

At the restaurant, Matthew and I get the obligatory stares from the local townsfolk, but only for a few seconds. We've become more of a fixture here in Ohatawara. People know us and accept that we love being here in their country and so simply curiosity gives way to more acceptance that we ain't no big deal. By that, I mean no one calls us 'gaijin' (foreigner!) even if they might think it.

To show that I am still of Indian descent, I go mucho crazy and order the hottest meal they have. It was a #7, a volcano-style curry and rice. I am no longer sure what the meat was, but it doesn't matter because I couldn't taste it.

Yeeee-owwwtccch! Fire! Help me, Buddha!

I don't know how many people out there have ever had their hair sweat - and I don't mean their scalp - but it's not fun! Hell, even the hair on my arms and chest oozed chili hot sweat. I sucked back three Eagle beers (a beer from India) and a yogurt drink and some milk. Nothing helped. The sweat kept falling into my eyes burning holes in my contact lenses. Didn't matter. The excruciating pain had me squint my eyes for the 50 -minutes it took for me to finish eating... and I did, because I hate waste. As well, my parents used to tell me that there were plenty of starving children in India who would love to be able to eat what I waste. Being greedy, I've learned not to share. Kidding about that...

Between mouthfuls and laughing at me sweating (I think everyone at the place may have been laughing at my body panic), Matthew and I talked about women. Ashley, I talked about... my ex-friend-with-some-sort-of benefit - but I don't talk about Junko. That's still supposed to be a point of contention for the OBOE... and to be honest, I don't want to tell Matthew just how screwed or screwed up I am. He already thinks that, I am sure.

He also begins talking about women to me: Takako, Maymi and Ikiyo. Three of them? Hmm, maybe we're both screwed up!

Anyhow, during his talk about the three, it's obvious he wants out of whatever he has with Mayumi - especially evident when he said, and I quote 100% accurately here: "I think Takako is the best woman for me."

Oh my Buddha! In no uncertain terms, I tell him to get rid of the excess baggage and to concentrate on Takako. I am sure I over-stepped my bounds, but he didn't seem to mind and I think just wanted affirmation of what he already knew. But geez, louise.... at this point in time in my life, why is it that I can give somewhat sage advice about relationships to everybody but myself?

Thanks to some severe loud gurgling from my stomach, I have discovered that Indian food made by Japanese people is not something that will stay within my gut for very long.

I calmly suggest we go home because I am tired, pay our bills and we leave.

We go our separate way, and as soon as he turns his bicycle away, I put pedal to the metal and race home with stomach tight - no mean feat considering I'm bloated.

I race up the stairs to my third-floor apartment, fumble for what seems like minutes with my key and the lock, move in and then relax... on the toilet.

Oh my god! It burns twice! Going in and out!

Somewhere my hair is sweating again,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is sung by Canadian rockers Harlequin:

Take It Easy

It's Sunday, December 8, 1991 here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.

I get up early enough at 8AM - make myself some eggs and bacon and juice and head out with my 50mm camera to snap more photos around town. Despite it being December and cold, there's little snow in this town. It snowed last year, but I haven't seen more than a few flakes this year. Present company excluded, of course.

Instead of tidying up - because no one is coming over - I head out to Matthew's place a five minute bike-ride away. You might think that with me tidying up my place nearly every night that my place might be neater than Matthew's - but no! That place is spotless, and still manages to put my place to shame. Hell... I vacuum every couple of days, too!

We ride out over town shopping for electronic goods... stuff for my stereo-TV hook-up, so I can give myself some surround sound. I had purchased a nice stereo for myself in Akihabara (Tokyo) last year. Not sure if this totally Japanese stereo will work back in Toronto whenever I decide to leave, but whatever.

Getting what Matthew says I need, we head over to Iseya for film stuff and then over to Kanseki to purchase some foam for me to block off the space under a few doors to keep the cold winter draft out.

Dropping stuff at my place, we then ride out to another electronics store in Nishinasuno-machi for something for Matthew's needs. On the way back, however, we spy a video game arcade and play some coin-ops for a very long time, much to the chagrin of many a student walking into the place... probably shocked to see adults liking video games, as most adults tend to prefer pachinko.

Next we ride over to the KFC (then only known as Kentucky Fried Chicken) in Nishinasuno and get my cholesterol levels up nice and greasy. This stuff is good! Good thing it will never ever affect me (until 10 years later!).

Matthew rode back to my place, helped me hook up the TV-Stereo and then when we were sure it worked - he left.

Almost to the second after he left, the phone rang. It was Catherine from the UK... who while a very nice person still managed to bore me for nearly 40 minutes, as I deflected her attempts to psycho-analyze me and to come over for a rendezvous.

I cleaned up my apartment (again) until I felt it was close enough to Matthew's levels of cleanliness and then watched the video Farewell to the King before I got ready for sleep.

My parents called at 12:30AM to talk - though I honestly don't recall about what - probably just checking to see if I was still alive and not suicidal. I've been down, but never that bad.

I go to bed, but wake up at around 4AM unable to go back to sleep - but I still feel like I had a great day.

Somewhere doing the simple things,
Andrew Joseph     
Today's blog title is by The Eagles. I know it was a dull day, but I actually got a chance to look around town without having to worry about a girl for a change. Thanks, Matthew.

    

Feelin' Alright

Sun breaking through the clouds - by Andrew Joseph

It's Saturday, December 7, 1991, and just yesterday evening, I broke up with my girlfriend! Yay me!

No, wait a minute... I think I actually just broke up with my ex-girlfriend.

My ex-girlfriend who was a friend-with-benefits.

Why the hell would I do that? That sounds really stupid when you think about it... breaking up with a woman you aren't dating but get to sleep with on occasion... oh my god... I think I'm going to be sick.

Today is the 50th anniversary of Pear Harbour Day. 'nuff said. I've had enough sneak attacks and torpedoing in the past 16 months of my stay here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.

It's time to relax and enjoy doing stuff for me.

To begin, I try to phone a few friends to apologize for my past crappy behavior... but either they aren't home, or no one is answering: back in Toronto, it's Rob Jones and John Kutchera, here in Tochigi it's James Dalton and Amanda Goodsell. I've just been curt with them through no fault of their own. It was just me. Stupid old, immature me.

I also try to call Matthew - not to apologize for anything in particular, but just to talk about me breaking up with Ashley. Ashley is probably pretty confused right now... wondering how the hell one can break up with someone they aren't going out with - but, dammit, I have found a way!

Oh well... to celebrate my new found independence, I go out and get my hair cut over at Nakamura's. I give Mr. Nakamura a Canadian keychain (it had the flag and the word 'CANADA" on it) simply as a gift because I feel like it, but unfortunately, you can't just give someone in Japan a present without it being reciprocated in some fashion.

Dude... just give me a free haircut.

But no. Via Muneo - my actual hair stylist - he says that we will all drive up to Nasu-yama (Mount Nasu, maybe 20 kilometers north of Ohtawara) in January for a photo opportunity. He mentions Matthew will join us, but I am unsure if that means Matthew has already been asked, or if I am the afterthought. Whatever! It's all good! I'm not getting laid anymore so... hey!

Mt. Nasu is the tallest mountain in the middle right.

I go home and grab my camera and walk out the door to start taking some photos around Ohtawara.

Usually I snap vistas from my balcony or the roof of my seventh floor apartment building... but this time... this time I went out at street level. 

Simple stuff... everyday stuff... everyday perhaps in Ohtawara, but to me, it all seems fresh, exciting and new! Why have I not done this before? I always had something else to do, but that's a stupid excuse.

Heck, I 'discovered' a temple right next to a nearby 7-11. How the heck did I not see this place before? I guess I only had eyes for Slurpee.

At a small local shop, I purchase a black lacquered floral tea set and some lacquered miso soup bowls. Not that I will ever use it, but merely because they look 'Japanese' and I appreciate the craftsmanship that went into its creation.

Back home, I spend the rest of the day and night re-arranging my apartment - something I haven't done since I first moved into the place.

It's nothing spectacular, but once again, 307 Zuiko Haitsu is MY home.

Hey! Where the hell is Junko?! Oh well... perhaps she already knows I need to be alone. But truthfully, I just want to be alone in Japan with the Japanese. It's why I came here, isn't it?

Somewhere feeling myself,
Andrew Joseph
PS: I will post some photos of Ohtawara-shi tomorrow! I want to show you my hometown!  
Today's blog title is by Traffic (and perhaps a better version by Joe Cocker):

When Love Comes To Town

It's December 6, 1991. For some reason, I have placed a larger asterisk on the first page of my diary. All I know is I'm unsure if I want to find out.

I'm at the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) - my office where I work once a week as a respite from teaching at one of the seven junior high schools in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.

I've been here for 16 months. I must be comfortable here, because I've put on weight - unless I'm the type of guy who eats when he is stressed. I'm only stressed or uncomfortable because of my women problems: both Japanese women and foreign women, and my current streak of no women, just those who sleep with me when it is convenient to them.

Man... I am so out of shape. I'm going to get back in shape! Eat well, but not everything. That should be my mantra. Tomorrow I will take a long overdue bicycle ride all over Ohtawara. Jogging at 6AM. A half-hour - maybe 20 minutes to start.

Am I effing crazy, or what? This will never happen.

I go to the OBOE and ask for a new set of business cards (meishi) - I've given away 500 in 16 months, and request my work schedule for the next three months. I get both by the afternoon.

It's a standard office goof day for me. I write some letters, write a story, study a bit of kanji to make people think I am 'getting' this language. I may love Japan, but I do not 'get' the language. I don't even get English.

After work, I head home. Matthew, who teaches at five junior high schools on the outskirts of the city (now actually a part of Ohtawara in 2012), comes over and we watch some Simpsons episodes.
 
We then ride out to the Nishinasuno Wedding Hall for a party (enkai). It's a get to know the local gaijin (foreigner) party hosted by the a social club. It's cool. People want to talk to me as I drink. And drink I do. But I talk to everyone who wants a piece of me and enjoy myself and the sake (Japanese rice wine).

It's a good thing I ate some French toast before arriving here - because there wasn't any food. I don't see Matthew, so I assume he's found a pretty woman to chat up. Me? I see Ashley, my ex-girlfriend, and supposed friend-with-benefit—though I am at a loss to see what benefit I am getting out of this.

Still... despite being stood up on US Thanksgiving - a day in with I blew ¥40,000 (~$500 Cdn/US) on a turkey dinner with all the fixings... and hating her guts... I still  invite her over later tonight to watch Edward Scissorhands. Johnny Depp HAS to help me get laid!

Anyhow, back at my place, the movie is over and the clock strikes 12:00AM - midnight... the witching hour.

Ashley says she's going home. Okay. I'm not stupid. We didn't touch all evening. We haven't kissed in weeks. Or hugged (I might have hugged her, but it wasn't returned).

She's changed her tune.

Being a former newspaper journalist with the Toronto Star, I'm used to being quite direct in getting answers to questions, so I say 'fug it'  and ask her.

I want to know 'who' and 'why'. Basically, I want to know what changed her tune.

This is the part I asterisked. Crap. Maybe I should end the friggin' blog here so avoid further embarrassment. And just recall that just yesterday, I was giving relationship advice to a Japanese woman. Is it too late to apologize to her?

* After much evasion, Ashley finally decides to tell me that: "In every relationship there is always someone who loves the other more."

Bull-crap! (I originally wrote something much more expressive than that!) If I believed that, I would never want to get married, and would encourage others against it. Isn't marriage supposed to be a caring, give-and-take relationship?

If it is uneven, it's not a fair relationship, and no matter how much counseling or psycho-therapy, people revert to whom they are, and the relationship will disintegrate.

I tell her that. I don't have the luxury of her nearly 24 years to formulate this... I had seconds.

She is nodding in acquiescence at everything—right or wrong—and the sight of her doing so infuriates me, as it looks like she thinks I'm crazy... so I help her out.

I call her a cruel, cold and calculating bitch.

I continue, stating that while I am exceedingly calculating, I am not cold. I've always believed in that Beatles' axiom: "The love you take is equal to the love you make."

Is that love in its simplest form? I've always been a black or white guy - never grey.

That said and done, she picks up her stuff an leaves - thankfully without a word.

I'm probably a little buzzed, but I'm not drunk. I've become the type of guy who can drink like a fish and function... I'm unsure, of course, if I function properly, though.

Still, I call up Karen Irwin in Yaita. Karen wants me for a boyfriend, But I just want to get laid, not tied down. You know what I mean. It sounds strange coming from a guy who wants love... but Ashley and I were just screwing - why can't we do that until love comes to town?

Karen is still up, so I avoid that hassle of waking her up... but I harangue her about Ashley and then hang-up on her when I don't get the answers I want.

Karen was the root of Ashley stopping sleeping with me.

No.. Ashley was the root herself... Karen was just a bitch interested in messing things up for her own gain.

But....

Ashley and I....

I feel like it's really over this time....

I feel remarkably at ease...

Somewhere *,
Andrew Joseph
This day was the only time Johnny Depp let me down. Or did I let myself down? Crap.
Today's blog title is by U2 and B.B. King:

         

Tired Of Waiting For You

It's barely Sunday, December 1, 1991 when I get up.

It's 4AM here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan when I wake up and have to take the whiz of all whizzes. I don't fully wake-up, but neither can I get back to sleep when I am done.

But I must... because I dream... a lot... and it all seems to revolve around a short, beautiful brunette... damn... I really should write these things down immediately.

I have no idea who it is - anymore - Kristine.. she's short - it could be her. Ashley's a half-foot taller, so I know it's not her....  but who?

Now I've forgotten. Crap. It felt really important as the dream went from scene to scene with my first-person point of view and this lovely mystery woman...

I finally get up at 8:30AM, but as expected - perhaps due to some seriously quick drinking - I don't feel like going to Nikko today. I was going to go there by myself - a first - to get Matthew and Ashley a Christmas present. But, maybe it's because Ashley seems to be missing inaction (that is actually spelled correctly!) or maybe because I am still kind of afraid to travel by myself in this country for fear of getting lost.

I haven't been lost in nearly a year - but that's because I always travel with someone who seems to know where we are going. I never know where I am going... I think I kind of just like being a plastic bag blowing in the wind.

I know... I should have used the more romantic 'leaf' blowing in the wind, but a non-biodegradable plastic bag seems about right for where I am in life at this moment.

I clean up a little and watch television, and crack open my first beer of the day at 11AM as I watch an episode of Magnum P.I. - this was my mom's favorite show, and while I do not have any homo-erotic tendencies, it does make me a tad homesick for the mountains and beaches of Toronto.

I kid. Toronto is like New York City-lite. No mountains, but the beaches are to die for - especially in December when it's frozen over.

Every five minutes, I call Ashley's place. If she is ignoring me, I'm not going to make it a pleasant experience.

Matthew calls me up and asks if I want to go down to the capital city of Utsunomiya-shi to watch T2 and some movie called Eve. Why not? Everybody loves Arnie!

After a quick bike ride and a 30-minute JR (Japan Rail) train ride, we arrive and quickly march towards the one theater I know here.

On the way, we run into Lisa, Stephanie and Cathy. I expect to see Ashley with them, but she's not there or has done an incredible job of blending into the scenery - which is actually possible owing to her quiet nature.

We also meet James and Steven and have a good laugh, as James Jimmy Jive Dalton is one of the funniest people on this planet.

After the great movies, Matt and I head home, arriving at 9:30PM.

I immediately call Ashley.

Holy crap! She's in! She's alive!

And is cranky because I have woken her up. Figures.

With no knowledge of her crappy behavior she tells me she spent the past three days in Utsunomiya - but in typical Ashley fashion, does not say with whom. If I really want to know, I would have to brow beat it out of her, and to be honest, I don't give a crap who she's been with - though I'm guessing it was those girls.

But... if it was a guy, she would not tell me for fear of pissing me off... not that it matters... she knows I've slept with other women since we broke up. At least 13 others, I think. And don't worry James... I know it wouldn't be you... you've never figured out my infatuation with Ashley. Heh. Me either.

Regardless of where she was, I decide to tell what she missed here in Ohtawara while she was away in Utsunomiya. I've been a pretty honest guy. Why lie to her now? Especially when I feel like I've got the upper hand as the wronged-party.

(Hey! Mike Rogers! Get ready!)

I tell her how I thought she was coming over to my place for a day-late Thanksgiving dinner on Friday as per what I asked, and what she agreed to do last Sunday. I also mentioned it on Thursday night - supposedly the night before she went away for three days. Hmmmm... must not have been with those three girls.

I told her right then and there how since we both knew she wasn't up for lasagne, and how she was homesick, and how it was US Thanksgiving and all (I'm Canadian and we celebrate a month earlier - only Matthew and Kristine cared enough to call and wish me that day!), I had planned for a week to do something special.

Just for her.

(Okay, probably for me, too!)

I told her how I got my bosses at  the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) help me out... to phone around for a Thanksgiving turkey... and how Ohtawara did not have one, but a restaurant in Yaita-shi (City of Yaita) could get one and cook it for me/us... and how they could deliver it or I could pick it up (which is what I did with my boss Hanazaki-san)... I told them I also needed stuffing, potatoes, sweet potatoes/yams, gravy and cranberries.

I even mention that it cost me a lot of money - but don't say how much.

And then I get a little louder - a controlled anger, if you will.

"And then you don't even bother to show up! Or a phone call! Leading me to wonder if you were dead, alive or hurt! Leaving me with a Y40,000 yen dinner for no one to friggin' (I used a different word here) eat!"

A short rant to be sure, but hopefully she could see how stupid or irresponsible she was in her treatment of me.

She apologizes between yawns - as I did wake her up at 9:30PM, after all. She doesn't know what else to say, because I think she is too sleepy to know how pissed off I really am. I mean, her apology was simply: "Sorry."

Does that sound adequate to you? Me either.

In response, I say: "I have to go now" and hang the phone up before she can say or yawn anything else.

I call up Matthew and chat with about what we are going to do in the future... probably another year, yeah... but how I think I would like to be a writer when I grow up. Matthew isn't sure, but he knows it should involve Japan somehow.

As a fitting end to my night, I watched the latest James Bond flick: Licensed To Kill.

And... when it is over... I march over to my miniature fridge, pull out Friday night's Thanksgiving dinner, put it in a large garbage bag and walk quickly down the three flights to the garbage area and deposit a small chunk of my life.

Somewhere feeling so tired...
Andrew Joseph
Today's song is by The Kinks - long one of my favorite songs, even years before I met Ashley... as it seemed to sum up my long-standing virginity up until a year ago.

 

Respect

Today's blog entry still pisses me off some 20 years after I first lived it.

It's Friday, November 29, 1991. I'm a junior high school assistant English teacher on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme living in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.

before arriving here from Toronto back in late July 1990, I was nearly 26 years old and a virgin... but within a day of arriving here, me - the man who seemed like Kryptonite to women first met Kristine who actually like me, and then the next day, Ashley who actually slept with me - though there was not much sleeping involved as it was around 4:45PM when we started. And before you start with the snide jokes, I lasted close to an hour for my first time, as I knew I had to picture something horrible while not concentrating on this amazing spectacle with Ashley.

So... it sounds like this is all ego blow, and to a certain extent it is, but I did wait longer than most readers here, and well, the following - it's not ego blow. It just blows my ego.

Ashley and I had broken up earlier this year - and in fact have been friends-with-benefits longer than we were actually boyfriend-girlfriend. I have certainly taken advantage of that fact, but I don't believe Ash has. Still, whenever she is lonely for physicality, she keeps coming back to a guy she trusts, whom she knows still loves her.

She isn't incorrect. I, who have slept with far more beautiful women than Ashley, still carry a torch for her. I don't know why. I just do. But she does often drive me crazy, which is why I am constantly sleeping with other women - to get her out of my head. It works for hours at a time. (I got stronger.)

Regardless... yesterday was US Thanksgiving and last week she had agreed to come over today so I could help celebrate with her.

She's been feeling lonely and homesick, and I've been trying to get over her, but I think when she smelled the sex of another woman all over myself and my apartment, I think a part of her died or at the very least realized I was probably over her.

She tried many a time to get me to spend the night, but I refused. Prior to this, she would start things over at my place and then get tired... it always ticked me off as I was unable to get off, and may have been why I was getting over her.

Just not today.

I wanted to show her a good time. I wanted to show her that there was no other man on this planet who would do what I am going to do for her. I wanted her to know she and I should be together. I wanted... ahhh, let's get on with the story.

Office work first at the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education) office where I spend my Fridays. First I stop of at the post office and mail my Christmas presents home for ¥7000. Then Kanemaru-san, one of my bosses, takes me to City Hall so I can pay may City Tax I apparently owe. Then my other boss, Hanazaki-san, asks me what the office can do for me - so I tell him I want an A/C unit. He says he will think about it. Hmmm. No sucking of air through the teeth, so I think it's as good as mine. I tell him the OBOE still owes me some money for a trip to Nikko. We then go to Wakakusa Junior High School so I can meet Tomura-sensei so he can translate a survey for me about foreigner relations in Japan. Uh... number one, it should have been in any other language but Japanese. Afterwards, we go and pick up my bicycle from one of the hundreds of bicycle repair shop in the bicycle repair shop district of  Ohtawara. I got my light fixed, spokes tightened and wheel re-aligned. They wanted to charge me ¥200 (~Cdn/US $2.60). I gave him ¥500 (~Cdn/US $6.50) and said he was too kind but just because I am a foreigner, I didn't want to take advantage of him. It was translated and we all celebrated with a couple of beers and some snacks...  there goes his profit! I also go back to the OBOE office and three It's A Wonderful Rife columns at the office - they are either the best I have ever done, or they suck. Such is the power of booze. Oh, and then we do something cool.

 Hanazaki-san, knowing I wanted to do something special for Ashley, had a week ago arranged with a restaurant in Yaita-shi to do something special for me. I had asked him previously where I could get a turkey... and he searched high and low and discovered you couldn't get a turkey in our city... but he kept on a-looking because he never wanted to disappoint me. That's respect for me as a friend. I have no way of repaying his friendship except by being his friend.

We ordered in a turkey from some other place in Japan. The restaurant cooked it. Did some sweet potatoes (yams), cranberry sauce, stuffing, carrots, mashed potatoes and gravy. They cooked it all for Hanazaki-san. For me. For Ashley. They wrapped it up. All I had to do was pick-it up and pay for it.

Expecting a gaijin (foreigner) discount, I was only a little surprised when the price quoted to me was actually what I had to pay: ¥40,000 (~Cdn/US $520). A pittance, if it got me back my girlfriend.

Hanzaki-san, good friend and boss that he is, did not grumble at the audacity of his charge (me) wanting to drive to another city just so he could get some food to help him get laid. In fact, he was quite happy to do this huge favor for me, chatting that he hoped everything would go well tonight.

You see, except for Ashley, everyone in this city knew we were dating. Even her bosses, as they wee great friends my my bosses - and I really disliked telling lies since I turned 18. before that - whoo. I was a good one. Great even. A legend in my own mind.

Anyhow, Hanazaki-san drove me back to my apartment and helped me carry my Thanksgiving dinner up to my third-floor apartment. He even said screw convention and kept his Japanese outside shoes on while trying to heft the huge meal with me into the place.

Bidding me good bye, good luck, and smiling as he slapped me about the shoulders like my father, I got everything ready... microwaving some things and heating others up in the oven - awaiting the arrival of Ashley, who has never failed to show up at my apartment on a Friday night since we first met.

By 6:30PM, there's no Ashley. She has always been here by 5:30PM at the latest.

I call. No answer at her place.

I call again at 6:45PM. No answer.

7PM. Nothing.

I put stuff away so it doesn't spoil...

Ding-dong! 

I race to the door!

It's... Matthew. You know... any other time I would have been so happy to see him... but he's not who I expect or want to see right now (it's also why I posted that photo of us prior to this blog - so he knows I mean no ill will here).

Still... I pull out my left-over lasagne (don't tell him about the turkey - sorry, brother!). He has some beer. We cook and we eat. He leaves at 8:30PM.

Seconds later, I call Ashley's place. Nothing. I even let it ring 20 times pretending to be Japanese, but nothing. (There was no call display back in those days, folks.)
 
I call every 10 minutes until 11PM. I am worried sick. Or perhaps it was the four beers I drank after Matthew left.

I'm worried. Jealous. Pissed. And pissed off.

Seems like the perfect time to get on my bicycle and ride the route between my place and Ashley's 25 minutes away that has a lot of rice fields someone could fall in. Crap. She could be hurt! I have to check!

Riding and loudly calling her name, I make it to her place at midnight. I ring the doorbell. Nothing.

I then look at the bicycle rack. My bike is there. Maybe she's with me?

Wow. How drunk am I now?

No... her bicycle isn't there. Cripes! Now I am frantic! Did I miss her? Is she dead in a rice paddy?

I ride back calling more frantically and loudly, but hear only frogs croaking.

Back home...  it's just after midnight. Where is she? Did she go off an do something without telling me? After saying she would come over?

People - Ashley better be dead and lying in a rice paddy because I now have every single dark thought my evil little brain can come up with going through it at a million miles per hour. I'm not mentally ill. Just quick at processing a situation. The irony of that sentence has not escaped me.

I am suck an effin' dweeb!


I sit down and stare at the fridge door I have just opened.

How could I have done all of this for someone who has her own vagenda (agenda with a 'v")? She probably went out with some girlfriends or with some other guy. Screw that noise! Why can't I find a woman who simply likes me without wanting the world from me, but for whom I would gladly give the world?

Why must I always put myself in these stupid situations? Women who want as much as they can grab from me, but offer very little in return... at least very little that actually matters to me. You regular readers will know what I mean.

The telephone rings.

I run over to it and trip on a chair landing with a loud thud that probably woke the whole building!

I crawl to the telephone on my hands and knees, pick it up and breathlessly ask "Hello?

"Hi Andrew!"

It's Kristine. The only woman I know for whom I would gladly kill a yak for her supper if she wanted one. I have used that line before in these blogs - but dammit, it is so true.

We chat and flirt and flirt some more while we continue to flirt.

With the 30-foot telephone cord stretched to breaking, I walk over to the fridge and close it.

Kristine and I continue to chat and flirt and flirt some more while chatting about flirting. My mood lightens considerably.

Somewhere wondering who the real turkey is,
Andrew Joseph
Good Grief! I almost forgot! The image above is by Charles Schultz who drew the great Peanuts comic strip starring that good man, Andrew Charlie Brown.
Today's blog is powerfully crammed down my throat by the immortal Aretha Franklin:

 

Matthew And Andrew

Matthew Hall and myself were assistant English teachers on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme between 1990 - 1993. We were very well-received by the Japanese folk in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan were we lived. We both taught junior high school - myself all seven of the schools there at that time (expansion - amalgamation of a few outer villages has taken it up to 12!), and Matthew taught at five schools outside the city... probably some of those schools that are now part of Ohtawara! 

Anyhow, people have been bugging me for a decent shot of my good friend Matthew Hall - mostly Matthew himself, but he is correct.

Most of the photographs taken of ourselves in Japan were taken while we were either drunk or on our way to being drunk.

As such, we looked fantastic at the time of the photograph, but amazingly when the photographs were developed, we did not look as good.

I kid. Matthew and I were always good sports and did whatever was asked of us by the people of Ohtawara and beyond and didn't mind at all looking goofy if it meant it would help break down cultural stigma.

I firmly believe that while we were  sent to Japan to help teach people how to speak English correctly, our chief goal was to break down the barriers of internationalization... that really, except for some social customs, people are the same all over the world.

We are both married with children, he living in Vermont, and me back in Toronto. Matthew was my best friend in Japan and remains one of my best friends today.

I'm unsure if there is any coincidence to the fact my middle name is Matthew, or his middle name is Joseph or that his youngest brother is named Andrew. Probably not, eh? 

As such, I am proud to present the above photograph of Matthew Hall (on the left) and myself, Andrew Joseph (on the right). It was taken with the mist of Niagara Falls in the background on April 14, 1997.

Niagara Falls is right at the border between Canada and the United States of America and is the longest undefended border in the world. It seemed like the perfect place to show off some internationalization.

Damn... we look good. And that's a completely unbiased opinion. I am unsure what unbiased means. :)

Andrew Joseph

Blurry

It's still Sunday, November 24, 1991.

It's a good time to be here in Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan.

The woman I just slept with an hour ago is my ex-girlfriend. She doesn't seem to have a problem with me sleeping with other women as long as they aren't any other assistant English teachers or Japanese women she might know.

Of course they are, but she doesn't need to know that. Although... I am unsure if she knows about my secret girlfriend Junko who had just spent the night being a very naught kitty with me.

So... it beats me how I'm supposed to top the rest of the day, gentle reader... bear with me and let's find out together.

Ashley and I are on a train south from Nishinasuno-eki to Utsunomiya-eki, where we will change trains and head northwest toward Nikko-shi. It's all about a 1-1/2 hour trip that would only take maybe 30 minutes if we could only go west from Nishinasuno to Nikko... but we can't.

Japanese women are still chatting amicably with Ashley as they can probably smell the sex all over us, while no one talks to me... I'm perfectly fine with that. I've always been a kind of a loner who really needs his alone time, but is probably kind of needy the rest of the time. Hey... it's only pathetic if you don't realize it yourself.

It's a beautiful day out... a little nippy, but it's still nice enough to not need a full on winter coat. I'm content in my sweater and wind-breaker.

Arriving in Nikko, Ashley and I walk up the main street of Nikko to our store - Takamoto's. It's an antique shop we first stopped in over a year ago, and we seem to go back at least once every five or six weeks. I think we keep the owners in business.

Ashley buys a wooden statuette for herself that costs ¥40,000 (~Cdn/US $522.15), while I conveniently forget to write down the prices in my diary for a picture scroll from Takamoto's, and from other shops: three wooden monkeys (a version of THIS),  a noh mask and some x-rated sake (Japanese rice wine) cups (see image at the top!) for my little brother Ben who is seven years my junior.

My contact lenses begin to bother me. I have a scratched cornea and have been wearing an eye patch for about a week now. I have dick-all for depth perception.

Anyhow... Ashley and I have left Nikko and arrived back at Nishinasuno. After riding her back to her place, I ride my bicycle back to my apartment in Ohtawara.

• It's now 6PM.
• It's pitch black outside.
• My contact lenses are bothering the hell out of me.
• My eyes are watering.
• I'm wearing a black eye patch.
• I'm wearing black clothes.
• I have a broken bike light.
• The streets have no street lights.
• It's freezing cold.
• It's windy.
• And there are assholes driving on the road.
• Said assholes drive with their high beams on.
• There are a lot of assholes.

Somehow I make it back home and peel off my contact lenses and put on my glasses.
Despite my apartment still smelling of apple blossoms, sex and latex, I have no desire to have anyone come and visit me secretly this evening.

Okay... I can't lie to you. I do wish Junko would come by. 

I sit and watch some television and some videos sent to me by my brother.

I call up Ashley and ask her is she wants to celebrate US Thanksgiving  on Thursday (the proper date) or to wait a day and do it on Friday. It's no big deal to me... I'm from Toronto, and our Canadian Thanksgiving is a month earlier.... which Ashley never gave a crap about. At least my buddy Matthew and Kristine called to wish me. Why am I sleeping with Ashley?

Anyhow... Ashley says we can wait a day. Next Friday. Cool.

I jokingly ask her if she wants me to cook her a lasagna again (like I did this past Friday) for her, but she seems to waffle...

If she were Japanese, she would be sucking air through her teeth.

Somewhere I have eyes but can not see,
Andrew Joseph
Today's blog title is brought to you by Puddle of Mud: