Sept 22-24

Well, I figure it’s silly to keep writing daily journals, because, honestly…it’s gonna get repetitive. But I will try my best to write everyday. As Matt told me, it helps you recognize trends…good or bad. Thus far, my trends seem to be…waiting for something horrible to happen, wondering when culture shock will smack me upside the head, and…wondering why I feel just as isolated here as I did at home.

Whatever. On Friday, I went to my elementary schools, not hungover, and got to be really silly, but cool with the kids. I forgot how many voices I could make up on the spot, and the kids seemed to enjoy me counting in strange voices. Dunno if they learned anything, though. Dah well! Late that night, Will and Scott dropped by my apartment randomly, and checked if I wanted to hang out. Ya know, I’m starting to like these guys on a normal human level, instead of disliking the fact that I’m not the only gaijin anymore. They’re good people, and we all joke around a lot. This time, we went to a little coffee shop near Shimodate station (or Shimo, as Will calls it) where I had one of the best cheese omelets I’ve ever eaten. Go, frickin’, fig. The cook put some…boulaise sauce on it. I think that’s what it was called. Either way, that was some good stuff. Can’t go back and get more, though, which sucks…because…well, it wasn’t on the menu anymore, technically, but he was nice and let me have one. So, I proudly said to Will and Scott, “I got the last cheese omelet this place will ever serve. I…win.” Everyone laughed.

Afterward, we went to a bar called “Fifties”, where they played only hip hop music. The server, Ami, was dumb as a rock, it seemed, but she was conventionally attractive, so it’s allowed, I guess. Yes, attractive people can get away with a lot more. That’s why ugly folk gotta work super hard and round themselves. I guess the song was right…”pick an ugly girl to marry you.”

We taught Ami some English, and I met a real racecar driver. Dude was really cool, even though he didn’t speak English very well. And the cars he owns….yeesh. How many men can say they raced a Lamborghini…oh, I know that’s spelled wrong…but who can say they raced one of those…in an illegal street race?

Anyway, the weekend was another hang with Matt weekend, where I scored so much free stuff, it was scary. See, Matt lucked out and got himself some free, awesome housing with a crazy Japanese woman who insists he call her mom…kaa-san, or the honorific of mom, o-kaa-san. So, Matt now pays no rent, and is moving all his stuff. But, he doesn’t need most of it. Therefore…I got dibs! I got myself a mattress, a rice cooker, another pot…I would’ve taken more if I was driving back, but…carrying a mattress on a train was hellish enough.

Before that fun return trip, however, Matt decided we should run around Tokyo again, but this time, in the Shinjuku and Harajuku areas. There we ventured into some of the coolest video game and model shops ever, and ate totally unhealthy food (mayonnaise dogs?!).

We left that shop with a spring in our step and pity in our hearts, and met up with Canadian Dave, yet another of my many namesakes, who was kind enough to escort us through Tokyo. What I noticed in those parts was a strange phenomenon that made me wonder—can Japanese women gauge attractiveness in foreign males? Because…really, all the foreign men in Japan are scrawny, pasty dudes who probably weren’t gonna get any girls in their native countries, or…rather tubby dudes who are balding a bit. And most of them had some good lookin’ Japanese women in their arms. And…I mean, I’m not exactly the best lookin’ guy out there, but Matt and I both felt a confidence boost by this fact. Though…I didn’t trust it. Something’s not right. It’s gotta be the passport. Gotta be. Or I’m still very guarded.

After we had our fill of that area, we took a looooooong train ride to Dave’s place, where he allowed us lodging for the night. The train ride back the next day was chock full conversations about friends, family, pets, and Matt’s failed relationships. I crashed for a few more hours at Matt’s place, then grabbed the mattress, rice cooker, and whatever else I could comfortably carry into a bag and marched rather unceremoniously to the train station. So ended the weekend.

But, let’s end this with a Fun Fact to Piss Off American Women. Since Japanese women, by nature, have smaller hips and fewer curves than their American counterparts, the expansion of their forms caused by childbirth actually improves their figures. That’s right. They actually look better after having kids. Without even trying. Unfortunately for men who like curves…this means every Asian woman you’re attracted to will most likely have kidbits. Enjoy.

D