Let's be clear, again

Ok, so if you are reading this, you have probably read my last post. Just for the record I don't actually hate Japan, and I don't hate the Japanese (only a select few who have decided to cross me in hand-to-hand combat). My last post showed a distinctly feral side of my nature that few have scene, and I have decided to leave the post up only because I find it to be an interesting piece, as it was written about a half-hour after the incident (the time it took to walk home) when I was still in an adrenaline flushed dinosaur brain. I had a rough next day, the combined weight of a hangover and the physical strains that rushing that much adrenaline through your body will take. I stand by my statement that I never want to stare down someone with a weapon pointed at me again. Nevertheless, I must admit that I had always wondered what would happen in that situation. What do you really know about yourself until you are faced with a life or death situation (to paraphrase Tyler Durden...sort of). All told I am fairly satisfied with my reaction. First I fled, which I think is a fairly healthy reaction as we were fairly evenly matched weaponless. Second, when I realized the futility of my flight I turned and stood my ground ready to rock. Third, and now we get into new material, once he realized I wasn't going to run anymore and wasn't going to back down, I was able to finally reason with the guy and got him to throw away the bottle. I cried, but they were angry tears. We talked for a while and he apologized, and I apologized for kicking his door, which I shouldn't have done. The monster inside subsided. Only after did the weight of the situation combined with the massive adrenaline flowing through my veins take me back into a mad rage that had no outlet but this blog.

I returned home and ripped my good shirt off and then tore it to pieces. I pulled on my pajama pants and threw my dress pants down to the floor. The screen of my cell phone shattered in my pocket. When I realized this after writing my entry I felt the cold grip of insanity pulling at my brain. So much stupidity, and there was nothing I could do about it. In my drunkeness I had lost my bag. In my rage for losing my bag I had nearly started a fight that could have gotten me seriously injured or worse. In the frustration that had followed I had destroyed my cell phone. Drunkeness, rage, and frustration: three things that have long been my greatest enemies, had cost me so much in the span of little over an hour. I woke the next morning with an emptiness. Frustration had led me to drunkeness. Drunkeness, in its extreme form, had led me to rage. Rage left to simmer had turned into frustration. In the midst of this I felt like I was lost.

Shortly after waking, my phone, shattered but still functioning (much like myself), rang. It was a call from my family. They were on vacation in Michigan, where my family has gone almost every year since decades before I was born. I talked to one loved one after another, hiding my shame and pain. I wanted to be there, away from this place. Somewhere comfortable. Somewhere where I knew the score. After hanging up, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. I still felt lost, but I realized again that I wasn't alone, and that gave me strength.

I rose from my bed and showered. Still weak on the inside, I left my apartment an hour early so I could try to replace my cell phone (which I need here more than anywhere as my sole means of communication with friends). When I arrived at the shop with over a thousand dollars cash in my pocket, ready to get that part of my broken self back at any cost. The staff were surprisingly helpful, though. They sent my phone to Sharp to be repaired and gave me a loaner in the mean time. The lady helping me actually nearly dropped my broken phone in the process, forcing a laugh from me and I said, "see, thats how it happens." She laughed, and so did I. It felt good.

I still had a full day of work ahead of me, though, and my small victory at the cell phone shop couldn't diminish the fact that I had to appear happy and funny. I looked at my class schedule, recognizing many of the students and groaned. My coworkers, however, listened to my story wide-eyed and showed me a great deal of support, along with some much appreciated ribbing. Miraculously, I had one of the easiest schedules ever with many students not showing up and others showing a rare display of charm.

After work was finally over, I went to the gym, feeling too physically damaged to attempt running I settled in on a bike. The first five minutes on the bike were tough, but finally the gears caught and I felt new strength in my limbs and I rode hard for thirty more minutes. Working out was good, even with the added guilt of having lost my workout journal in my bag. It felt pure and clean. Frustration seemed to drain from me with each strained repition. When I returned home I heated and powered down some of my disgusting but nutritious "tofu chili", and collapsed into bed.

I slept for ten hours. A wonderful dreamless sleep. I woke this morning feeling wonderful. I finally realized that all I had lost were a few little possesions, nothing that it the long run would be missed. And I realized that both here and at home I had many people that cared for me (thank you to the people that commented on my last entry, it felt good to hear kind words. Also to the guys here that came looking for me ready to slay the bottle weilding bartender). More than anything I learned that I can survive. That I will stand in the face of danger and bounce back. That I am durable. It gives me strength to know that I can tackle difficult situations that arise, and fight whatever demons that I have. After all, what do you really know about yourself until you have been in a life or death situation.

Let's be clear

Let's be clear: I hate japan and I hate the japanese. Now, of course this is very strong language, but I feel that in this situation it is appropriate. So tonight I went drinking, not a normal night for it, but some friends have some friends visiting and I thought why not. I didn't even get that drunk. However, on the way home I realized that I forgot my bag at the bar so I walk back to get it. Only, when I get to the bar all the lights are on and my bag is nowhere to be seen, which is kind of a big deal since it has a $250 mini disc player in it. Needless to say I am very upset. I leave down stairs and it a fit of rage kick the downstairs door, DOING NO DAMAGE. The bar owner, however, being a fucking gay psycho decides to make an issue out of this. He runs down the stairs and gets up in my face. "Japanese, JAPANESE!!!" he says. "I don't understand (wakaranai)" I say, along with apologies for kicking his door. Motherfucker grabs me by the collar and yanks me around at which point I feel that he has crossed the line and I get up in his face. The fucking goddamn queer ass mother fucker runs and grabs a fucking bottle and breaks it and comes running at me. I flee of course but I am not a fast runner, and he catches me. So I say "alright, do what you gotta do, but you better do a lot because I am coming for your fucking ass." Now then I haven't ever had to stare someone with a weapon down before, and I can tell you I don't want to do it again. I can tell you however, if I ever see that guy again I am going to fucking beat his ass through the floor. Now it may be wrong of me to hate all japanese for this one bastard but my mind isn't functioning quite right right now, after all, I did just escape from as goddamn psycho motherfucker who will someday feel the business end of a baseball bat to the face.

Get lost kid, ya bother me

So I went to see Batman begins today. A quality flick that I enjoyed immensely. Perhaps the most interesting part of the experience, however, was the previews. Actually, not the previews themselves but the little videos about proper moviegoer behavior. First, there was this strange and very art house style video against DVD piracy in which a pretty lady sheds a single tear. The tear rolls down her face and as it does, it turns into mercury or some other silver liquid and then falls from her chin. The tear falls into some sort of black pool. Then suddenly a horrifying skull appears in the black pool and a voice kicks in saying not to pirate DVDs. So remember, copying DVDs will kill you...and make skulls appear in black pools as you cry metal.

My favorite by far, however, was the no talking/using cell phone/smoking video. In this cartoon video some poor movie patron is surounded by people talking on their cell phones, and children running amok. The poor little fellow slowly goes insane and starts pounding on his head until he can no longer take it and lights up a cigarette, at which time the cell phone users become very angry. The video then ends and a line of Japanese text appears on the screen with the english translation beneath. The translation reads, "your behavior is bothering everyone". There was no "please be considerate" or "thank you for your cooperation" they just came right out and let you know that other people find the way you conduct yourself offensive. Great stuff. Other than that I learned that tekapai (tay kah pah-EE) means oily boobs. I don't really know what they were talking about, but somehow that came up. Anyhow, thats the news from Japan. Peace out.

I don't like bugs G

Tonight between studying the Japanese alphabet and getting ready to clean up our extra bedroom for the impending arrival of our new roommate, Keith, I decided to roll on down to the old Super Tamade, our local yakuza-owned discount grocery store. I needed some tofu and noodles for my nightly dose of improvised and super-boring miso soup. No amount of tofu, however, could have prepared me for the bugs. Millions of them. It was as if the earth had opened up and some sort of apocalyptic swarm of brown insects had flown out to devour everything in sight. Luckily, it is night time and the bug armada was mainly concerned with finding lights. Every light between my place and Super Tamade was surrounded by giant swarms of these little guys. I just hope this isn't the beginning of that whole "end of the world" thing that crazy people seem to be obsessed with.

Last warning

ATTENTION OLD JAPANESE LADIES: I am more than happy to move out of your way to make it easy for you to get from point "a" to point "b", but you have got to stop altering your courses to run directly into me. That and appearing in front of me from my blind spot so I have to throw my entire body backwards to avoid accidentally tackling your 4'5" frame is not cool. And one last thing, stop delivering deadly elbow strikes in order to get past me in line at the grocery store. That is uncalled for. Now then, I have tried to be nice, showing respect and all that crap, and in all due respect it is amazing that you can still ride a bike at the age of 4000. Be that as it may, if the wackness does not cease, it is going to be a festival of broken hips.


I'm going to hell for this one.