tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60974554789263421872024-03-13T20:58:58.138+09:00Two out of Twelvethis a place for my thoughtsChinohttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03626360377408609829noreply@blogger.comBlogger281125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-428383735123048672013-01-24T19:02:00.001+09:002013-01-24T19:02:38.777+09:00new blog!! xNew blog ==>><a href="http://nailz-21.blogspot.jp/"> http://nailz-21.blogspot.jp/</a><br />
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Check it out! ;)Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-55680710857244018812012-10-31T16:27:00.002+09:002012-10-31T16:27:28.382+09:00Happy Halloween<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5lq15YezP0Q/UJDSjI6JxGI/AAAAAAAAByM/2rnQSttWZXs/s1600/2012102719270000.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5lq15YezP0Q/UJDSjI6JxGI/AAAAAAAAByM/2rnQSttWZXs/s320/2012102719270000.JPG" width="214" /></a></div>
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<b>Taken with one of my students. </b></div>
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Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-22099047130883474152012-10-24T17:49:00.001+09:002012-10-24T17:54:02.019+09:00Halloween 1012<span style="font-size: small;"> It's Halloween season, and my favorite shot bar, Marix, is going to be having a Halloween costume event. If you're dressed up, you get a free drink. If you have the best Halloween costume, you get 12 bottles of champagne!! Now that's something to shoot for, isn't it? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> 12 bottles of free champagne should be motivation enough to go all out dressing up for this competition, but my wardrobe seriously lacks flavor and excitement, and costumes here tend to be quite pricy. I decided to do something simple, and default for one free drink instead of 100. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">If I had money<span style="font-size: small;"> to go splurge on a Halloween costume, I would buy a bottle of fake blood, a white <span style="font-size: small;">vampire outfit, fake fangs, a s<span style="font-size: small;">ex<span style="font-size: small;">y wig<span style="font-size: small;">,<span style="font-size: small;"> fake nails and a ca<span style="font-size: small;">pe! <span style="font-size: small;">I can totally see myself scaring the life out of som<span style="font-size: small;">e people<span style="font-size: small;">,--uniformed men included! </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<br />Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-63925278503716186292012-10-17T14:30:00.000+09:002012-10-17T16:31:32.227+09:00destress<b><span style="font-size: small;">Random shopping during lunch break:</span></b><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">*White wine glasses from Daiso.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">*Black trench coat on sale from UNIQLO</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">*Cheap chopstick set</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">*Mabeline Liquid and crayon eyeliners</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Feels good to shop. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">On a completely irrelevant note, I found a crumpled up paper napkin stuffed in one of the pockets of my hand bag with a name, phone number and mail address scribbled on it. Seems like a certain 'James' wanted me to give him a ring! Chances are looking slim for him. </span>Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-3245523737732002182012-10-16T18:57:00.001+09:002012-10-16T18:57:24.422+09:00hummmmm<span style="font-size: small;">I've been drinking far too much recently, and it's got to stop! I waste a gross amount of</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> money on bars, it's ridiculous! I could've bought a new Zara coat and boots if I had decided to spend my booze money on fashion! This so sucks. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Then again, I've got my reasons. I just lost a dear friend. In my own words, written in my diary the day of the incident: </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>" I actually thought I was fine with everything. I thought I wasn't so affected by the fact that I was being ignored by someone I considered to be a loyal friend. But reality is that it hurt. It felt like I was given a beautiful present that grew roots in my heart, became a part of me and complimented my life, and was suddenly ripped out, taken back, leaving me with a void that nothing seems to be able to fill properly. And I tried to fill it up with everything that I could think of. But what is shared between two souls can never be replaced. "</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">I did indeed cry that day. And I did kind of binge drink as well. History has an awful way of repeating itself, and unfortunately, this isn't the first of people I cared and loved about to up and leave me hurt and bleeding (not literally) all over the sidewalk. I wonder if I can take any more of this shit... </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">BUT! Drinking is not the answer! Must be strong, or else I won't be able to fit into my favorite winter clothes! That would really only add to my depressing state. F!</span>Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-23343416822213115722012-09-13T13:38:00.000+09:002012-09-14T17:13:06.750+09:00pubes on face<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yVyFlJOK04E/UFLm2KfYOyI/AAAAAAAABx4/H84EddzNFtA/s1600/2012091313550000.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-yVyFlJOK04E/UFLm2KfYOyI/AAAAAAAABx4/H84EddzNFtA/s320/2012091313550000.JPG" width="180" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">Hi blog, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Today, I feel gross and filthy. My body hasn't seen soap or water in 2 full days, and in weather like what we're experiencing these days, that's border line! I feel like there are ants crawling all over my skull, my feet feel like they've got an extra layer of something coating them, and I can feel the crap on my skin! It's just disgusting. I was meaning to shower before work, but I overslept thanks to the long night I had, and barely had enough time to throw some clothes on and run out the door. I truly look like a mess. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">On my way to work, self-hating thoughts kept popping up while I let myself dangle from a train strap when a man standing to my left caught my eye. Actually, the roughly 50, healthy looking pubes growing just below and above his lips caught my eye! He was young-ish. Maybe in his late 20's with a Johnny-Depp-wannabe-hat sitting on long dyed hair. Thick, black rimmed glasses adorned his face, and those pubes... they looked so pathetic. The squiggly, wiry kind. All of a sudden, I felt so, so clean. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">I'm not a fan of facial hair. It looks insanitary, and it's no pie when you're making out with someone with even a well-groomed mustache or beard or goatee. It's forgivable when it compliments the face and gives the person a certain 'look'. But there is no room for those .... pube-like, unkempt, untrimmed facial hair-dos. It's just abhorring. Really. REAAAALLY. </span><br />
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<br />Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-21640666671788543512012-09-10T15:54:00.002+09:002012-09-12T14:40:19.278+09:00but it was fun<span style="font-size: small;">It's a Monday, and once again, I find myself struggling to make the 'play -> work' switch. I try, of course, but it's not easy to concentrate, especially after a weekend of partying. I can't help but think about all the interesting things that happened at Marix and what I'll do next weekend. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Going to Marix was a impromptu decision. The original plan for my Saturday was to spend a lazy night at home, watching a film and eating discounted sushi from the supermarket accompanied with a bottle of chilled Chimay. What was flawed about this plan was the timing. I started my lazy-night-at-home at around 8:00pm, and the film lasted only until 9:30pm, naturally. That left me at a very awkward time. It was far too early to sleep, and it was also far too early (for me) to head out to the bars. After thinking about this a little and going through the few options I had, I decided to to chuck down some Gossip Girl episodes while I waited for Boris to get off work, and get some laundry-folding done at the same time. But there is a limit to how much Gossip Girl one can take in, and by the time I went to pick my sister up from work, I had had far past that limit which made me feel mentally contaminated. It was time for a change of scenery.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> As I met up with little sis, she told me a about how much work sucked and how much she needed a drink, and after she sorted things out in her mind by mumbling this and that angrily under her breath, she came to the decision that she would really want that drink to be at Marix. And so... well, so it was! I said, 'Sure, Bunny, let's go to Marix.' Let's go disinfect my person with some alcohol, why don't we.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">At Marix, things were alarmingly quiet. The bar was only 50% full, and the dance floor was next to bare. It was just a little past midnight, so it was about time for things to be booming here, but oh well, we all have bad days, right? We ordered gin and tonics, and lazied back into our chairs. Girl talk, and men-slamming banter began after the first sip or two over millions of cigs, and after we emptied our glasses the party was on! There's something about getting together with your best friend, girl-talking all of your problems off of your chest over a few drinks, smokes and good music. It just makes things right. I felt good. I felt like it was a fantastic decision to be at Marix. I felt like this night was gunna rock! It did. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Things did heat up around 2:00 am. I danced my ass off! The married dude that I secretly lust after has a creepy senpai who confessed his feelings for me. I turned him down. He got pissed off and left Marix. Whew! Somebody was kind and bought boris and me many drinks. Married dude, I found out, lusts after me too! The cool dancing dudes whom we like were there and made things even cooler! I drank a lot and didn't get drunk. The kind dude that bought us drinks had naughty hands which wouldn't stay off my ass! Annoying. Kind, but not so nice. I got pissed off at kind dude after he groped my boobs. We played our favorite songs. Somebody looked exactly like Lee! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">etc. etc. etc.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">See? This is why I can't concentrate on working! Ugh! </span><br />
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<br />Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-60724365849119866782012-09-06T17:00:00.003+09:002012-09-06T18:11:32.199+09:00oohps<span style="font-size: small;">With two bags slung over each of my shoulders, I made my way out of the classroom, hurrying, hoping to get my hands on the better conbini bentos before everyone else. <i>Should I get the one with all the tempura on it, or the healthier fish one? I should definitely pass on the fried chicken bento though. It's evil as pie!! 1050 fuckin' calories lurk within its deliciousness, and despite my addiction for fried chicken, it's not worth the jog I'll have to do later at the gym.</i> Hungry thoughts raced through my mind and my stomach growled and just when my feet were about to go down a flight of stairs, I heard a "Wait! Please!" I turned around, and saw my student's head poking out from behind the door. "Can I please send you?" He asked with a sheepish smile. I took that to mean that he wanted to give me a lift on his bike again. I've become an expert and deciphering broken English sentences. <i>Hm. Well, at least he didn't say 'Can I please <b>ride</b> you?'</i> I smiled and nodded my head. I hate walking in the summer heat, and I wanted a good conbini lunch. So sure!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">As thankful as I was about the lift, I can't help but have a hunch about this guy, my 50-some-year-old student whom I teach, and it's not the nicest of hunches either. I always felt like he ( and I don't want to sound conceited or anything) likes me. Yes, it's great to be liked, and it's really great to be liked by your students. But when they <i>like</i> you, have a crush on you, it swings 180 degrees. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">It's difficult to explain a gut feeling. He's never said that he has a crush on me, or that he fantasizes about me out loud, but the feeling you get when you feel somebody's eyes on you, or when they are excessively giddy and happy when they meet you, or when they try to be subtle about invites to a drink or two, is unmistakable. You can't miss it, and it makes you uncomfortable, but at that stage, nothing really can be done about it yet. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">So shit.</span><br />
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<br />Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-43609710849779478132012-08-28T17:04:00.000+09:002012-08-29T13:28:15.833+09:00thanks for the ride<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: small;">Dragging my feet to my office from the Community Center where I gave my morning lesson, I thought that if I toppled over and fainted in this freakish heat, it wouldn't be any surprise. For one, I've been short on sleep these past few days for a million reasons, and it was taking it's toll on my body. Then of course, the summer heat hasn't been easing up at all, and since it was noon with the sun high in the sky, I felt like someone was trying to cook me for lunch! I had forgotten my sunglasses, so I was squinting like an idiot and I had also forgotten to put on sunscreen so my poor skin was taking a direct hit! Every step I took seemed like a miracle. I had this expression on that could kill ants. And right when I just about had enough of the torture, I heard 2 loud honks directly behind me!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I jumped and spun around, finding myself face-to-face with one of my students from the Community Center on his motorcycle. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Wanna ride?" He asked, and I swear he was glowing! Was that a halo over his head? Ah, ... shiny white helmet reflecting the sunlight. Whatever! Who cares?! I was sick of walking and complaining!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Absolutely! Thanks!" I said, as I let him take my bags and balance them in the front. (still not sure how he did it. ) He then got off his bike, and pulled out a shiny red helmet from the seat which swung open, and plopped it on my head. It was a beautiful helmet. I felt butterflies in my stomach. The color red does that to me. I was so excited!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">He got back on his bike and told me to hop on to which I 'ooohed' and 'aheed' and clapped my hands over, but it all of a sudden hit me: <i>Get on that.... thing? How on earth am I suppose to get on and stay on unless I hold on to my student for dear life? </i>And holding onto my student for dear life was <b>not</b> an option! He's my good-looking, married, 50-some year old student who announced to the whole class when I first started teaching them that he would quit if I was ever to be replaced by another teacher, that I was the only teacher he wanted. Also, he took a picture of me on his cell-phone, saying he wanted to show his family and friends his new English teacher. He also came up to me at the end of one of the classes to show off his new jeans he just bought, explaining how well they fit him, etc. I hesitated as these thoughts rushed through my tired mind. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">For a few seconds. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>Ah, fuck it!</i> I clumsily got on the back, doing an excellent job not to use him to stable my balance, and off we went! I was freaked out of my mind! Well, c'mon! It was my first time EVER on a motorcycle, and we were zooming between cars and trucks, and so on and so forth! AND I wasn't holding on to anything! My hands were balled up into fists, and I think I might have ground my teeth once or twice. But I must say, it was exhilarating! The wind against my skin, and the speed, and the possibility of being tossed off and losing a limb or two gave me this unfamiliar adrenaline that got me beaming from ear to ear like a freak. This dude, my student, just made my day! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">He got me to the station in record time, and with a 'If you ever need a ride again, hope I can lend you a hand', he was off. <i>Totally, totally cool! </i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Anyway, check out my Zara jacket! Words fail me,... it's just adorable!</span></div>
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Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-27806531572673697602012-08-24T16:01:00.005+09:002012-08-27T14:06:45.757+09:00Date Night with Bunny<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Like I've mentioned before, every Wednesday is what Boris and I like
to call 'Date Night', where we simply spend the evening together going
to various restaurants, or catch a film at the cinema. Last Date Night,
we decided to drink our hearts our at Syzeria! Not my first choice, (or
second, or third...) but it is without question a cheap place to drink
and eat. And not everything on their menu is putrid like most of their
pastas are! </span>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">It was fun! </span><br />
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Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-47507809651510476862012-08-22T14:48:00.001+09:002012-08-22T15:31:18.872+09:00dresses<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<b>Dress and belt from Zara.</b></div>
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<b> Dress from Forever 21, belt from Zara.</b></div>
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<b>Dress from Free Mart.</b></div>
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<br />Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-22657228842050741522012-08-22T12:36:00.001+09:002012-08-22T15:34:10.819+09:00Obon Holiday<span style="font-size: small;">My first day of work after a week off for Obon was sluggish and painful as expected. My liver has been working double time, my lungs were suffocating for lack of fresh air, and my eyes were puffy for lack of solid sleep. I was a mess and looked it! Such is the cost of true fun and partying!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Here's how I spent my Obon Holiday. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">1.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I met up with dear Kenny in Shibuya to <b>watch The Dark Knight Rises</b>. I loved it!! I didn't love our seating arrangements though (front row, unfortunately), but it couldn't be helped, and the neck pain was worth the show! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">That evening, <b>Sasa met up with me in Shibuya, </b>and after a few Happy Hour drinks at the HUB, we unintentionally <b>missed our last train </b>while clubbing at Gas Panic. So we took a cab and killed the remaining hours till first train at Roppongi, drinking unhealthy proportions, dancing with random strangers, and trying to stay clear of creeps that want things you don't want to give them. It was a totally exhausting night out. <b>Roppongi is losing it's luster fast</b>! Good thing Sasa and I are close friends and kept things fun for each other. If it was just me, I would've seriously lost it on at least one of the guys who couldn't keep theirs to themselves! Ugh! Disgusting. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">2.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>I spent a lot of time working out at Tipness</b>. There's something quite lovely about working out without a time-limit, without needing to be somewhere in 50 minutes, and just knowing that after you exhaust yourself, you can soak in the sento, get comfortable in the sauna, cream down in front of the vanity mirrors, and then collapse on the massage chairs and take a long nap. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">3.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Boris and I made a fantastic discovery! There's a <b>Jonathan's near our place</b> that is open for 24 H, and we've decided that this will be our new hang out spot. So after spending a full lazy day at home, and wanting to still be lazy and do nothing, but just in a different environment, I stumble over to Jonathan's, order some small dish with the drink bar and a bottle of wine, and watch a few DVDs on my laptop. Then, when I tire of DVDs, I switch to novel reading. This is VERY VERY GOOD!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">4.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Of course,<b> I hung around the bars </b>surrounding my place, chatting with the bar tenders and their customers. Very nice, very relaxing, as always. Speaking of chatting, I made a new acquaintance: a certain Australian that I've seen around before, but never really got into a conversation with until just last weekend. He's a <b>good looking guy</b>, big framed, with colorful sleeves all the way to his wrists. There's a ring on his wedding finger, so he's married, but I wouldn't have guessed it if I were to judge by the way he looked at me, and turned to one of my friends who was standing next to him and said 'Damn! It's the woman I saw at Marix! She's hot!! Do you know her? Are you going to get her number? Cuz if you're not, I think I'll give it a shot.' I'm guessing he thought I couldn't speak or understand English because as soon as I ordered my wine in English, I noted that his eyes popped, and he made a slight 'oohps' face. Very cute. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Anyhow, we talked for hours that night, and after I got to know him I decided that he wasn't half the creep I thought he would be. Perhaps we'll talk again. Dunno. Don't really care. He's fuckin' married, for beans sake! I'm tired of <i>the taken</i> hitting on me.<b> Some single men, anywhere? </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">5.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><b>I deep cleaned my apartment</b>. Seriously, I'm the ONLY one who cleans up, and there are four of us living together! Do you know how much crap accumulates over the short period of 3 days when there are 2 boys and 2 girls living under one roof? A lot! I shouldn't have to be doing this. But living in filth gets to me, like it should to everyone else. I don't mind a mess here and there, or things not organized to a T. But dust, stray hair, mold, and other such shit is just gross. It's worth when it's someone else's crap you're cleaning up too! <b>Ugh!</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">6.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">With the remainder of my holiday, I contaminated my mind with <b>Gossip Girl and Dexter</b>, a glass of wine in one hand, and a cigg in the other.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">All in all, it has been a very relaxing vacation and I enjoyed every second! I originally wanted to plan a trip or party with friends but I'm glad I didn't. I needed a lazy vacation and it did me well. I'm ready and well equipped for the next few weeks of torture!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Can't wait till the next one, which is actually coming up soon in September!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Life is good!</span><br />
<br />Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-41673035552080607882012-08-13T17:50:00.002+09:002012-08-22T14:35:42.094+09:00students... ugh<span style="font-size: small;">Every Friday from 6:00 to 7:00, I teach two junior high school students English conversation and a bit of grammar on the side, and damn, do they have a way of getting to me! One is a girl, an awkwardly lanky girl with a face you can't put a finger on with beady eyes, hair always pulled into two tight piggie-tails, and her shoulders are always slouched forward. The other is a boy, equally lanky but in a sporty way, tanned skin, a quiet face and hair that falls into his eyes. Sometimes I wonder if these two were sent from some strange planet to torture my mind!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">During our lesson, I give them a question starter that we all use to create our own question to ask the class. After any given instruction on question, I ask if I was understood and the usual reply I get is a stony blank stare from the both of them. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">"Well, did you or didn't you understand?" I press, a smile plastered on my face.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"........."</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I turn to the girl. "Shall I repeat the question? Did you understand?" At this point, I'm already tapping imginary fingers on the table in an impatient way, but I know that only 10 minutes have passed, and that I'd have to hang on quite a bit longer. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"arghhacoeuihaoiu#$%&%!" is her usual reply. And so it begins.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Okay, I need that in English. It's an English lesson, remember? English!" I press, still smiling, but I can just only imagine how fake it must look. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"raahraahraaaahhhgh!" This time, it's her special grunt. I have taken this to mean that regardless of whether she understands or not she refuses to speak in English. I sigh heavily, and turn to the boy, who is blank in his expression and has his eyes fixed on some tiny object on the table, only visible to him. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"And you? Did you understand?" I ask, and to which he nods. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Well then! Let's hear the answer!" He rolls his eyes twice, and mutters the answer snail-pace under his breath, putting on a very strong Japanese accent on purpose, eyes still fixed on the unseen. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Fantastic answer! Well done. Did you hear that?" I keep things upbeat the best I can, and turn to the girl who is now pulling on her remarkably stretchy cheeks, and rolling her eyes back, making her face look like... I don't know, a modern artist's piece gone wrong?</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"No, no, no, no, noooooooo!" At lest this time, her answer I could understand! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">This goes on for about 20 minutes. The girl is playing with her face, skin, and hair, and everything else on the table while grunting and making sassy quick comments in Japanese, while the boy continues to stare and stare... and stare. Occasionally, he peeks up and smirks and giggles at the faces she's pulling, which really eggs her on. And I.... well, try my best not to do something I'll regret later. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">The most annoying thing of all is that I know for a fact that both students are quite intelligent. Their homework is usually 85% correct, they've got good spelling and grammar, and sometimes they correctly answer my questions in Japanese, indicating that they understand completely. I guess they're just trying to make this hour the most tortuous they can. They do an excellent job. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">When I first realized that I was to teach these two, I remember my mind freezing up. I've heard other teachers try teaching them and 'disastrous' would be an understatement to describe those lessons. And as I started teaching them myself, I quickly caught on that in cases like this, being more strict and angry didn't help anything. Teenagers are a brand of there own and each must be handled with great care and concern. I made it a point to laugh at the girl's strange faces, and sometimes ask the boy what he was so intent on looking at. Was it a ghost, a pea, some species that can be invisible? This did help things a little, but when I say 'a little', I mean, less then 5%. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">Until the last second, they keep this up: face pulling, grunting, staring, laughing, giggling, talking in Japanese..almost everything besides English! It's a real pain. I'm not trying to ask for special advice, sympathy, or anything in particular. We all had our special ways of expressing ourselves when we were in our teens, and I understand that it's a phase. But I do need to vent somewhere, and vent I shall! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">And the surprising thing is that the girl told her mom that she particularly enjoyed my lessons. Well, girl, thanks for not showing it during class! I need a beer! Argh! </span><br />
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Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-43363330718058807052012-08-13T13:38:00.003+09:002012-08-22T14:36:25.093+09:00clean + zara<span style="font-size: small;">When it's as hot as it is today, going out of your way to break a sweat just doesn't cross one's mind. This is why my apartment has been piling up on the dust and stray hairs and other such things. Not necessarily because of neglect to clean, but more like the result of one trying to NOT dehydrate and melt into a puddle because of too much energy spent scrubbing and wiping. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">But there is a limit to how much filth and mess I can tolerate, and I decided to not wait until I reach that limit as it's quite a forgiving one. After a sweaty work out (Tipness is closed due to Obon) I pulled out the rags and the cleaners and spent the rest of my morning scrubbing and cleaning away! Yes, it was a big operation, and thanks to the heat, I had sweat pouring down my face. But after all was said and done, I feel great and I'm glad I did it. Nothing beats a tidy, clean house. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">Anyhow, check out this awesome tunic I bought at Zara!! Wooohooo! </span><br />
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<br />Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-38213160688829234132012-08-13T00:38:00.003+09:002012-08-13T13:40:36.189+09:00obonI've been counting the days for my Obon Holiday, and now that it's finally here I am in complete bliss! I painted my nails, I sorted and picked out holiday clothes, and I've been paying my respects to the bars I love! So far, I must say that I've been having a lovely start to Obon, and I can see that things will be picking up fast! I'll make sure it does.<br />
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The only two things that I think are less than perfect are that Boris has work during my days off, and that I'm a little short on cash. Oh, and also that I feel like I'm stepping into some kind of torture-by-heat-and-humidity-machine each time I step out the door! Really, this heat has got to give us a breather soon! What is it trying to do, kill everyone? Ugh!<br />
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Anyway, check out my awesome new 'thing' from Zara!! LOVE IT! <br />
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<br />Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-15861652943293080072012-08-10T13:41:00.003+09:002012-08-10T13:48:15.781+09:00outfit<br />
<b><span style="font-size: small;">Like it simple. </span></b><br />
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I'm blogging again! Wee hoo!Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-88269075275101038662012-08-08T14:20:00.001+09:002012-08-08T14:24:31.458+09:00goodies<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Check it out! </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">It's the second tube of Victoria Secret body cream I received this month as a souvenir from students who've been going abroad for the summer holidays! Good job, students! Keep 'em coming! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: small;">And I know I'll sound like a selfish brat if I say this, but I want one of my students to go fetch me an entire Zara shop--yeah, the whole effin' thing-- next time they're on holiday as a souvenir!! That would be just about right! Sorry, I can't help myself sometimes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">I was lustfully browsing Zara's beautiful cuts and colors during my lunch break today, and damn, I want them ALL! And there were these two dresses on sale that I've been wanting for far too long which are now finally affordable! I'm talking about what was once 15,000 yen is now a mere 3,290 yen!! That is nothing short of WOW! So imagine how awestruck I am right now at my self-control as I somehow miraculously walked out of Zara without buying either dress! Let's see how my self-control holds tomorrow when I'll actually have over 1600 yen in my wallet. Humph! </span>Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-35029407811230762482012-08-07T17:26:00.002+09:002012-08-07T18:18:49.822+09:00glasses<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"> Sometimes, when I've had a long night and my eyes are all puffy from too much DVD watching, drinking, or whatever I've been doing, or when I just want to look smarter, I get out my glasses! They are an excellent concealer, and helps cover up things that foundation can't. It's Zara, of course. </span></div>
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<br />Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-58277797751911289232012-08-06T14:27:00.003+09:002012-08-06T16:21:16.897+09:00knives, dancing and a bloody mary<span style="font-size: small;">Last night, while enjoying a Gin Tonic and sharing Ken's Bloody Mary at Marix, a lady worker from another shot bar right around the corner came bursting through the entrance, panic stricken and out of breath. I sometimes go to the shot bar where she works at for a change from Marix and for different company, and she always greets me with a smile, very friendly and chirpy and also quite the calm character. So needless to say, I was quite worried when I saw her rush in like that. Her eyes were like saucers, and her hands were shaking. There was obviously something terribly wrong going on. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">She darted around a bit, looking for Bar Daddy, frantically calling his name, and when Bar Daddy lazily appeared from the back, words like 'killed' and 'knife' and 'dead' came spilling out of her mouth! Very alarmed, I tried my best to make out what she was saying, but she was panicking and her sentences really didn't make much sense to me. Yanking at a very calm, almost uninterested Bar Daddy's arm, she rushed out of Marix with him and into the night. I raised my eyebrows at Ken. Wow,...okay...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">After 10 minutes or so, Bar Daddy came back, with the same calm, slightly lazy expression and sat next to me at the counter, and ordered a drink. We clink our drinks, and I gave him like 30 seconds to enjoy his first sip. I was ready to hear an exciting story!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"So, what was that all about?" I say, with my biggest, most eager smile, wanting all details!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Nothing." Was his very unsatisfying answer. I made a face.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"That wasn't <i>nothing!</i>" I pressed, "C'mon, did someone get hurt? What happened?"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Just some idiot with two knives, trying to kill his idiot girl friend at the other bar, that's all!" He said with a shrug, as if incidents like this were a regular happening. <i>That's all?? That's wow!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Oh my gooood!" I'm all dramatic now, and I press for more and more nitty gritties.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"He must've cut her somewhere along her arm, but I couldn't tell because of all the blood. Got the police over. They can take care of it. Idiots!" he spat, slightly annoyed that he had to leave his cool spot at the counter to deal with the mentally disturbed of Koiwa.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Police? Wow! How many? Was everyone ok? Did anyone else get hurt?!" Morbid, I know, but I like stories like this. I wanted him to go on, but he didn't seem to be in the mood for banter.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Many police, everyone's okay." he said in a 'story is finished' kinda way. Well, that would have to do for now. It was enough. With a satisfied smile, I turn to my drink and talking with dear Ken, and we ended the evening with lot's of very energetic dancing and shimming on the dance floor.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I have yet to see knives and blood and that sort of things at Marix, but I have been warned by many not to go on a Saturday night alone. It won't be long till I will for sure. I'll take the pictures!</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-13163218399910820242012-08-03T13:58:00.000+09:002012-08-03T16:11:32.927+09:00RED<span style="font-size: small;">I'm being drawn to red these days as I fantasize of autumn and what style and colors I'll be going for So to remind me that I'll only have to endure this hellish heat for 2 and a half more months before things start cooling down and autumn graces us with her presence, I bought a pair of vibrant red flats at Zara, and I love how their looking on my feet! No need to wait for summer! They work just fine in this blazing weather. Now, all I need is a red bag and accessories, and red nail polish to match! Oooooooooh, life is so exciting! </span><br />
<br />
<br />Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-56847530312069418112012-08-02T13:53:00.002+09:002012-08-06T13:44:15.687+09:00abnormal start to day...<span style="font-size: small;">My day is starting off in a very abnormal fashion.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">First of all, I was woken up at the ungodly hour of 6:00 am by one of my friends crawling into my bed, obviously hammered with the smell of whiskey lingering in his breath. Ew! And believe it or not, there IS an ew level above whiskey-breath, and that is the combination of said and sharing a mattress with someone in the summer with no air conditioning (or fan)! This was the unfortunate combination that I had to start my day off with. . </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">For the remaining 2 hours of my sleep, I tried in vain to fling off sweaty, beefy limbs from off of my already sweaty body and craning my neck away from any foul smells my nose got in contact with. I eventually gave up after figuring out that it was a losing battle, and let the remainder of my sleep be just.. well sweaty and smelly. I would have been in a terrible mood if this had been anybody other than who it was. Fortunately for me and my friend, I like him enough for all this to not bug me up the wall and into some dangerous fit. After getting up, I showered and spent the rest of my morning till I had to leave for work trying to make conversation to my half conscious friend while applying make-up and getting dressed, asking him about the previous night, and why he ended up at my place at the hour he did, etc. His answers were all choppy and slurred with one too many 'say what?'s and I decided not to waste any mental energy trying to make sense of his mumblings. I would have to wait for the explanation until later, or never if he has forgotten.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Secondly, after stepping out into the scorching sun from my apartment, I'm about to make my way to the conbini, when I see a man roughly in his 30's with trendy shades on and a beer in hand walking towards me, seemingly staring my way as if he were trying to make out who I was. When he's just a few steps from me, he slows his pace, and nods in my direction, raises his drink in a 'salut' manner and says 'どうも!’ Since we were right in front of my apartment, I instantly jump to the conclusion that he's one of my neighbors that I failed to recognize. And who the hell says 'どうも’to a complete stranger anyway, right? Right. So I quickly return the act and nod back with a smile and say 'hi', trying to conceal the fact that my memory is that of Dori's in the film 'Nemo'. To this, a smirk stretches across his tanned face, and he begins to look me up and down, having completely stopped in his tracks by then. At that moment, it was as if I was suddenly gifted with the ability to read thoughts, and I just knew that he was plotting an approach phrase, something cheesy, no doubt! Crap! Not a neighbor! Just some loser who's drinking from noon, hitting on hard-working people like myself! I make my 'ew' face and scurry off. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Wonder what's up next?</span>Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-29856184373512715012012-07-30T14:19:00.000+09:002012-07-30T18:22:31.332+09:00Shhhhhhh!<span style="font-size: small;">Late Sunday night, after a fun, somewhat exhausting weekend full of TV series-viewing, dancing, alcohol and banter, I felt the desperate need to be surrounded by utter silence--pure and undisturbed. Suddenly, the music being played at Marix became unbearably loud and obnoxious, the swirl of smoke from my cigarette became suffocating, and the half naked blonde shimming on the dance floor, flinging her gold locks at all the drooling men seemed so pretentious and was making me sick! I could feel my eyes droop and the corners of my mouth felt heavy. When one of the bartenders asked me if I was alright for the third time, I knew it was time to go. I managed a weak smile and shook my head. Nah, I wasn't alright. My favorite shot bar, my all-time-favorite-Marix was making my head spin! I crossed my fingers, indicating I wanted my check, and after putting down the money, a nod towards the other regulars, I stepped out into the night. I needed to find that quiet place.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> But NOT without a drink!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I dodge a few catchers that have been trying to get my attention since moving here with their 'Hellos' and 'How are yous' in broken English and bought a drink at a conbini. After popping it open I decided to just walk and figure out my destination along the way. I began swimming in my thoughts.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Every now and then, (like once every two or three months?) I go through the <i>what's it all for? </i> stage. Questions like the above and other questions like, 'What's the point of making all this money? Why do I need to try so hard to make those fuckers happy when they don't even care about me? Why do those girls look like they just stepped out of a magazine in <i>this summer heat</i>? Why doesn't the hair on that guy budge with all this strong wind?' bombard me and leave my mind with more questions instead of answers. As I walked on through the night life of Koiwa, past izakayas and bars and more izakayas, slowly sipping at my drink, I realize that I'm going through one of those 'stages' and this realization makes me cross. I hate unanswered questions revisiting me. Suddenly, the drink in my hand and its effects seem so shallow and far too temporary. I made a face at a random mosquito and marched on.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Losing track of time and my sense of direction too, I realize that I walked past my apartment and that I was nearing a park a block down. It's tiny with a strange slide like thingie in the middle, a set of swings and some benches on the side. There are few lights, and surprisingly, there was zero noise. I'd found my undisturbed silence.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> I settle on the swings, and I close my eyes, and I sip my drink. It really was silent, and the silence was beautiful. Even my racing thoughts shut up for a while, and I remember feeling the peace and stillness heal my troubled mind. I just needed to get away from it all, step back and be alone. I stay like this for countless minutes and I feel great! But at around 3:00AM, it was time to go back home. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I peek my left I open and my eye instantly catches a curled up business man on the bench right next to me! His shoes are neatly lined up next to the bench, along with his bag. His back is towards me, and it's obvious he's dead out! Subconsciously I make my 'ew' face! Somehow, I felt like the knowledge of this man's presence ruined my silent reverie, but I was thankful I found out about him after I got renewed. I tip-toed past him and went home.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">My sister's air con is SO LOUD!</span>Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-35381331611657953092012-07-26T16:12:00.001+09:002012-07-26T16:15:52.012+09:00The remedy<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I've been having some difficulty sleeping recently. Not like how it was before, where even 3 hours of sleep was a feat. It's just been terribly difficult to fall asleep in this FREAKIN' HEAT because I don't have a freakin' AIR CON!!! I toss and turn and try to get comfortable, but there's really nothing comfortable about sleeping in a sauna, and that's exactly how it feels like these days! I wake up drenched in sweat every hour or so, and falling back to sleep is just painful and takes so long! And worst part is that there's nothing that can be done about this.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> Or so I thought.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Every Wednesday night is what Boris and I call 'date night'. On date nights, we simply spend time together, sometimes over drinks at the HUB, dinner at a nice restaurant, a film at the cinnema, or even Disney Sea. It's a night reserved for just us, no matter what we end up doing, and last night was no exception.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">We had made plans to go to Syzeria and indulge in their wine and shitty food, but those plans changed and we ended up enjoying a few drinks at home over an episode of Gossip Girl and some MSG laden junk food from our second favorite place in Koiwa--Ministop. Our #1 favorite place would be Marix, and that's exactly where we planned to go after our little at-home-hangout, to get a dance in and one more drink. (Or 5, depending on whether or not there will be any kind men who'd like to take our bill.) But plans changed yet again, and at around midnight I found myself walking to Marix alone. Boris wasn't feeling it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Weeknights are definitely quieter at Marix, but past midnight, there are always a handful of Marix-addicts who just can't keep their Marix dose to just the weekends. Looks like I'm one of them too. I sat down and ordered. I really only wanted to stay there for an hour, one gin-tonic, and 5 ciggs, but you know, plans change. Especially if the guy sitting next to you offers to get you 3 more drinks, and isn't creepy about it, not to mention the fact that my new Crush ( the 35 year old married cutie) was there too! This all got me into a dancing mood, and I found myself dancing away with the other regulars there, and before I knew it, it was 2:30am, and I was exhausted! Time to go home. Crush walks me to the elevator and goes down with me. After a hug and a wink good bye, we go to our SEPARATE homes, and crash.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">The next morning, I am VERY refreshed and feel energized! I realize that all the previous night's dancing around and laughing and drinking had exhausted me more than I expected it to, and that I slept 7 solid hours! I'm delighted! Guess I know what to do next time when I can't sleep! So here's a shout out to all those who don't have air cons who can't sleep because of it: Either get yourself an air con, or go to your nearest shot bar, get a drink (or five) and dance! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span>Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-27299202997730218532012-07-23T16:29:00.002+09:002012-07-23T18:10:28.812+09:00The weekend<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">It's a Monday, and I hate Mondays! There's nothing fun about the first day of work, and making the switch from fun and play to work doesn't seem to get any easier, despite the weekly practice.</span></div>
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<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The weekend I'm recovering from right now was particularly enjoyable! Friday night started off with a sweaty, heart-racing, 2 hour-long session at Tipness, pounding on the treadmill and doing countless crunches on the mats. A very good start, I must say! I then spent the rest of the night until 6am-ish the next day, drinking all my efforts at the gym away with two male divorcés, one just 29 and slightly crazy, and the other in his 60's, crass and 100% crazy. I met these two loons at my favorite standing bar in Koiwa, and we all instantly hit it off! Our times together are always full of laughter, and the crassest comments and jokes you'll every hear in your life! That old man ought to bleach his mind--thrice! </span></div>
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<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Saturday: Despite having been out drinking till 6:00 am, I am proud (and actually quite surprised) to say that I dragged myself to Tipness for a work out at around noon. Once again, a VERY good start to a Saturday. I then indulged in some 'Gossip Girl' and a huge leafy, very healthy lunch, and got ready for my evening lessons. </span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
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<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Teaching on Saturdays is a complete drag! I'm often slightly hungover, and my mind is distracted with thoughts of booze and fun. Thankfully, my students behaved themselves, and gave me an easy time to teach them, and before I knew it, I was enjoying my Saturday night the way I like to best! Started drinking with my boss and the gf at around 9:30pm, with 3 other lovely people at a very busy, slightly confusing, open air, barbeque style-ish place. The food they served was amazing to say the least, and although I'm not such a fan of food while I'm drinking, I found myself chugging away at the delicious grilled-goodies. Great start! My next stop was <b> <a href="http://www.barafrobeat.com/shinkoiwa.html">Afrobeat Shinkoiwa,</a> </b>where I spent the remaining hour till last train, gin-tonic in hand and cigg in the other, trying desperately to ignore the man to my right who was trying to get me to give him my number. Thing was, he had bought my drinks for me, and I felt obliged to be nice! This is my #1 biggest problem with free drinks! I hate the pressure I feel to be friendly and talkative! It sounds awful, I know, but I go to bars and such to wind back and be myself, and sometimes, I really don't feel like talking! But I musn't complain. Free drinks are great! </span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
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<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Made the last train and zipped straight to Marix, a typical shot bar/dance floor place, the only equivalent to a club in Koiwa. This is where all the action is, apparently and that night, Marix was booming! Every corner was packed with inebriated people of all ages! From the occasional infant in a punk-dad's arms, the prostitutes, the slutty girls showing far too much legs and then some, the punks with their hair-that-won't-move and glittering ear jewelery, the middle aged women in clothes they shouldn't be wearing at that age, businessmen still in their suits, the sexy break dancers, the loners and wallflowers, all the way to the grey and wrinkly old man at the bar, hoping in vain for some action. THIS is Marix. </span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">I order the 'usual', and am lead to a vacant spot on the counter by 'bar-daddy' as Boris likes to call the super tall, 35 year old bartender in-charge, who can't seem to shut about his love for me. I don't mind, because he's never been creepy about it, and also he fends off perverts and creeps that really <i>do</i> bother me. "I feel like punching anyone who I catch even looking at you!", he had said once with his squinty look. All well and good, but not very appreciated when he doesn't keep his 'punches' to just the perverts and creeps. Once I was having a perfectly civil, even pleasant conversation with a guy at the bar when all of a sudden, I feel an arm reach around my waist from behind! Startled out of my mind, I yelp and turn around, only to find myself face-to-face with 'bar daddy'! "Isn't my woman beautiful?", he said with a smirk stretching across his face! Horrified, I wiggled my way from out of his arms, and give him my evil look, to which he just shrugged his shoulders to. The customer I was talking to gave Bar Daddy the finger, and told him that he over stepped his boundaries and to fuck-off. Bar Daddy laughed at this, and walked off with a wink in my direction. I roll my eyes. That was one of the milder incidents. </span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">Bar Daddy was very busy this night, and was rushing his huge frame around, getting drinks to the already drunk, with little time for his flirtatious games with me. Good. I had the night to myself! Or so I thought. Creep to my right is staaaaaaaring at me! I turn in the opposite direction, and ignore. Creep is STILL staaaaaaaring. Ugh! </span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"Excuse me,..." Oh, shit. Here goes. I didn't even have a full drink in me and some weirdo starts talking! Where's Bar Daddy when I need him? I.G.N.O.R.E.</span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"Excuse me. Excuse me. Excuse me. Exc..." He was gunna go on and on so I thought I'd get it over with. </span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"What?" I say turning around and looking this guy straight into his creepy eyes. I wasn't going to lose the stare down. </span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"I have a problem. A big problem. It's big. " he said, which was a little different from what I was expecting him to say. </span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"Well, what's that?" I ask, actually quite interested in what his 'big problem' was. </span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"Well," he started, "it's weird, I feel this great, great urge to fuck...and not just sometimes A.L.L the time!" and, at 'ALL', his eyes popped, trying to make a point! WTF?</span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"Uhhhhhm." was my answer. Was this guy serious?</span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"Is this weird? Really. I really need to have sex. ALL the time! Aaaaaall the time! Wow! It's not normal, is it?" he continued. GeezUs, this guy was the biggest weirdo ever! It made me laugh!</span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"Sir, are you male? Like, you're not a girl, are you?" I ask, to which he replied, "No way!"</span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">"Then don't worry, this is very, VERY normal! Cheers!" And with that said, I grabbed my gin and tonic and pack of ciggs, and moved to the dance floor area. Our conversation: OVER! </span></div>
<div class="me" style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The rest of the evening was great fun, with lot's of dancing and drinking! I know most of the regulars there, and they have all collectively decided that they like me. This is good. One of the regulars, who happens to be a very cool, mid-thirties dude, who likes acting like the world's best player, but who actually is the sweetest thing EVER, has taken a special liking to me. No problem here, because I like him back! When I first met him, I was in one of those moods where I didn't want any company, and I basically gave him the cold shoulder despite his efforts at friendly chatter. When we had started getting closer later on, he told me he thought I was the coolest, most unapproachable woman he's ever met and that it took him a lot of courage to talk to me the next time around. Ha! Well, at least I know my 'cold-shoulder-tactic' works well enough! He got over himself, though, and now we're always together, dancing talking and having a blast. Ironically, he's married with two children. Arrrrrgh! I'm like this magnet for married, unavailable men! Just my luck! It sucks!</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Spent the rest of the night and early morning talking with him, and dancing, and also kicking some unwanted company away. I mean, seriously, I'm not something you can randomly grab! If you wanna dance with me, then ASK! That way, I can actually use words instead of actions to say no! Puleez. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I ended my time at Marix turning down an 'offer' by one of the bartenders. He's nice, and not annoying, which is very important, but I'm not really into him. I'm into the 35 year old dude that is married and has children!! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">I found myself being pulled onto the dance floor while engaged in conversation with my new crush, and before I knew it, I was dancing with the bartender I just mentioned to my favorite song. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"You like this song, don't you?" Bartender whispered in my ear. Ew.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Yeah, that's right. Good for you for remembering!" I say, trying to keep the mood casual.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"I really like you. You're hot, smart, and (blah blah blah blah), and I think you and I should try meeting up some time and see how things fly." he continued in hushed tones. Crap. Hate conversations like this SO much!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"How 'bout we don't,...and say we did?" I tried again to keep things casual. He's a nice guy, and I like keeping things good with the bartenders in general so I know they'll have my back when I need it. Why does he have to make that so difficult for me? Why? Why? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Why?" he asks. It's a simple question, but difficult to answer. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"I don't know. I'm too tired to have this conversation, that's why." I say, really too tired, and just wanting to go home. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"I really think we should try. C'mon. Walk in the park, I'll take you out, and besides,...I really want to see (blah blah blah blah blah blah *******) and I want to do (blah blah blah blah blah)" he continued, and all I can think of is 'crap' and 'ew'.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"In another world!!" I say blatantly. No ways, dude. No ways!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Why? Why in another world? What's wrong with this one?" He is damn pushy when he wants to be. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;">"Weell, for starters, you're in it..." I instantly regretted what spilled out of my mouth, but luckily for me, he didn't catch on! Although...it wouldn't have been that bad if he did. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;">As soon as the song finished, I stumbled my way to my Crush, and tell him I'm heading home. He helps me look for my bag and jacket, and walks me to the elevator but doesn't go down with me, indicating that he'll keep his junk in his pants (for tonight). He tells me to be careful on my way home, and quickly adds (jokingly) that he'll be looking for my apartment the next day. He winks at me and I smile as the doors shut, all the while hating the fact that he's married. I stumble home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">I got home at around 7:00am. Exhausted, I collapsed in bed, and switched on Gossip Girl and let it drone on as in the back ground as I drift to sleep. I woke up at 2:00pm. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Sunday: Sleep. Wake up. Sleep. Wake up. Drink. Sleep. Gossip Girl. Boris. Drinks with Boris. Sleep.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Monday: Groggy. Another week of work. It's hot. I want some lemonade with no sugar.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">Can't wait for next Friday!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></div>Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6097455478926342187.post-70776179650601578432012-07-11T18:20:00.001+09:002012-07-11T18:24:30.943+09:00#1 summer beverage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Kot27BXQmSM/T_1E5TqXaSI/AAAAAAAABr0/EJEwtnO_G4g/s1600/mojito.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Kot27BXQmSM/T_1E5TqXaSI/AAAAAAAABr0/EJEwtnO_G4g/s1600/mojito.jpg" /> </a></div>
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When you feel like you're suffocating and being drained of energy by the heat, and when nothing seems to inspire a healthy appetite, do yourself a favor and grab a mojito! Nothing beats it when it comes to cold beverages in the summer!<br />
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It's as refreshing as it looks and is 100% satisfying.<br />
Eyelinerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11425529725567622182noreply@blogger.com0