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Saturday, July 15, 2017

Stop Looking At Me

One of the things I hate about writing a blog that looks back at my time in Japan, is that it forces me to look at both the good times and the bad.

The bad times are almost always (as far as I can tell) related to my relationships with women.

I have always been forthright in this blog in explaining that I was a virgin for 25_ years of life until I arrived in Japan.

While that situation was over with before a month had passed, I soon developed a more suave persona that enabled me to date some 50 women, sleep with nearly 30 of them, and have one girlfriend, one secret girlfriend, and one fiance… without cheating on anyone.

And all that within 36 months (three years) living in what was essentially a rural city where the name Ohtawara-shi quite literally translates into big-rice-field-field city.

Yup… the city so rural they had to add “field” in there twice.

I say all that, but the women weren’t the typical farmer’s daughters of pre-1950s jokes.

Sure the city I was in was surrounded by rice fields and 7-11s (not as much of an exaggeration as I might be purporting), but the people there were, for the most part merely suburbanites—educated, funny, friendly, and honest folk.

I mentioned “the bad” when it comes to recalling my past… my past with women.

Not every woman I dated in Japan was Japanese. 

Not quite by design (because I never made plans), the majority of the women I dated and slept with were women on the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme, posted in my prefecture (province) as well as outside it.

My first true love—naturally the woman I first slept with—was in the confusing habit of breaking up with me and wanting to get back to me… something that happened over and over again… and I can quite honestly say I have no idea why she did one and then the other…

I can tell you why I kept allowing her back into my life…

When you’ve been without someone since, well, forever, you tend to clutch at straws… afraid that if real love could pass you buy for so long, once you find it you better hold onto it.

I had always assumed she had some sort of mental health issue… but now I’m not so sure if that was the problem…  

Dropped like yesterday’s garbage on the roadside—even though other women came and went, so to speak—when that first woman wanted to come back into my life, I was perfectly happy to allow her to do so.

I may be dumb but I'm not a dweeb
I'm just a sucker with no self esteem

That’s a line from The Offspring and their song Self Esteem.

Video

Everytime I hear that song, it feels like they wrote it about me.

I knew even back then in 1990-1991 that I was that sucker with no self-esteem…. something no one else would have guessed about me by the way I comported myself.

Well.. Maybe Matthew knew when he carried me home from the bar a few times dead drunk and bawling my eyes out. 

I let her back in because I was always afraid, deep down inside that if I didn’t, I might never find love again.

In my second year on the JET Programme, when that AET and I decided to simply be friends-with-benefits, rather than just enjoy the sex I would spend my free time wondering:

1) how do I get her back with me full-time, and;
2) what is wrong with me that she would want sex but not me?

Sure.. during my stay in Japan I certainly had sex just for sex’s sake… the old in-and-out for a few hours and MSG and learned how to achieve the male multiple orgasm before it became a thing…

but I obsessed about why I was just being used and using for sex… I didn’t care… I just wanted to be loved.

That was Ashley, in case none of you have read any of the 3,600+ blog I have written in the past.

Don't you want somebody to love
Don't you need somebody to love
Wouldn't you love somebody to love
You better find somebody to love, love

That’s the Jefferson Airplane and their song Somebody To Love.

The opening stanza of that song resonates in my head:
When the truth is found
To be lies
And all the joy
Within you dies

No… it’s okay.. I’m fine. I’m a realist.

While just being friends, I met a Japanese woman who liked to be tied up. This naughty young woman—just Junko, please—was pliable, smart, funny, stupidly sexy… like first-week involved in American porn star sexy… and, it seems like she had a mental health issue…

She dropped out of university to spend every waking moment of the day following me… watching me from her car parked in the parking lot of whatever junior high school I was working at that week.

She wasn’t jealous.. she was perfectly willing to have any woman I want join us for sex—bound or unbound—as long as she, Junko, was there with me.

Obsession. Clavin Klein never made a perfume that smelled like Junko’s obsession. Junko just smelled of sex. Hells… Ashley came over one night… and could smell it permeating throughout my apartment.

While I always applauded Junko’s offer of an FFM or FFFM or an FFFFM or whatever the heck I could get, I never pushed it… I can tell you that when it comes to more than one woman at a time, it’s best if the guy just kindda gets out of the way for a while.

Junko was not jealous of any woman—because if you had seen her, no guy in his right mind would want to leaver her behind.

I saw her on Monday, twas my lucky bun day
You know what I mean.
I love her each weekday, each velvety cheek day
You know what I mean.

That’s Spinal Tap’s Big Bottoms. Junko didn’t have a big bottom, but she did have a more typical western butt than the flatter typical Japanese butt.

Anyhow… because Junko was constantly spying on me, as soon as Ashley would leave, she run up the stairs and knock at my door and away we’d go at it all night long. She didn’t care that I had just finished with Ashley or with whomever… Junko just wanted to sleep with me.

We weren’t boyfriend-girlfriend. We never actually went out on a date… for dinner… she never wanted to.

Was she embarrassed to be seen with me? Was it me, not her? Was it her, not me?

The sex was intense and frequent and endless. I worked during the day,  and was consensually sexually assaulted through the evening and night… not getting any sleep. 

I know… poor Andrew… the porno-hot Japanese chick only wants to have sex…

yeah… but have you ever had sex for 10 hours in a row? More on weekends? No sleep… just sex…  a fellow can start to hallucinate… and get raw… dehydrated… have rope burns… lose creativity in the sack and with the written word… 

I had to call in my bosses for help… to have her taken away to get some professional help.

I adored being adored… but this was obsession, not adoration. Why would I want anyone to drop out of university to follow me around like I was in the Grateful Dead?

Now nobody’s boy toy, I went to sleep for a couple of days while my wang got back to wanting to be touched by anyone other than Junko.

Not wanting to be in any sort of relationship, I spent the next 6-10 months trying not to be involved in any sort of relationship that could last longer than a weekend of sex.

I figured nobody wanted me for who I was… they just knew i was reasonably good at the whole sex thing for whatever reason. No, no, no… after you. For free… that male multiple orgasm thing changed my life… I could orgasm all I want without the wet finish.

Too much information? Sure whatever. You want to hammer a guy for talking about what he did 25 years ago?

I wasn’t looking for love. I wasn’t looking for Miss Right… just Miss Rightnow. i wasn’t even looking for that.

I put myself in a position for it to happen - visiting a bar I liked to frequent… a place where the Japanese locals realized I could be found…

But why were all these Japanese women approaching me in the bar… introducing themselves… sitting down…. getting me up and dragging me outside to my place…

Junko… that’s why.

Living in a small city of 50,000 people, when something occurs like a foreign teacher having to get rid of a Japanese woman because she was obsessed with him—well… people want to know why.

Hey… I’m just an average guy… I have a good sense of humor and intelligence… I smile and treat everyone properly or at least do my best to try to.

There’s nothing special about me. I know that… it’s why I attract weirdness. I’m weird.

Then again… when I first saw Noboko… the new Japanese teacher of English (JTE) at one of  my schools… I fell in love with her immediately. I  mean, I looked at her… audibly sucked a short intake of air in via my mouth and probably burned a hole through her blouse as I stared at her for what seemed like years but was only seconds.

I might be weird… I might even be a freak… but I’m not a creep.  

After an introduction to her by the senior JTE I did, where Noboko was cordial but serious looking… I went back to my desk and picked up a pen and wrote her a haiku in as much time as it took you to read:

Her beautiful eyes
Seem to hypnotize my soul
Capturing my heart.

Noboko had captured my heart (I admit that later on with someone esle, I had my soul captured).

I had fallen head-over-heels in love for the first time.

I'm in love for the first time
Don't you know it's gonna last
It's a love that lasts forever
It's a love that had no past

Those are lines from The Beatles song Don’t Let Me Down

Of course it’s just a song. I might have  had everyone fooled in Japan with my self confidence… so much so that Noboko didn’t want anything to do with me because I looked like one of THOSE guys… a playah.

I don’t think I was. I never led any one on… I never asked them for sex… hell… even after 2 and a half years in Japan, I still had not actually asked anyone out on a date. Oh-fer what… 49?

Noboko thought my haiku was nice… and even though I told her it was for her, she wasn’t impressed by me.

She listened to rumors.. that I had got some Japanese woman pregnant and wouldn’t take any responsibility.

If I had got some woman pregnant, you can bet you a$$ I would have stepped up in any way possible.

But of course… there were more than a few foreign guys in my city… apparently 1.8m, 175lb, brown-skinned, blackhair me was mistaken for some 6-3, skinny white guy from Oceania.

Still not convinced, her junior high school students managed to convince her that I was a good guy. I have no idea why they went to bat for me, but they did.

She told me she was curious… why would tweenagers think that Andrew was the guy for her?

Awesome sex aside - and not on that first date… to create separation between everyone else who was just in it for the sex (including me)… we were a great match…

She was also the first woman I had asked out in Japan. The only one, it turns out.

Virgo.  If you believe in such things, Noboko was a Virgo… born on the 15th of September. I’ve chased a lot of rabbits down holes, and the Virgo women have been the most intense.

Here… let me tell you about Virgo (from HERE -
http://www.astrology-zodiac-signs.com/compatibility/virgo/
) :

Virgo and Scorpio can make an incredible couple, exciting and full of energy, with an interesting sex life. However, if they give in to their individual darkness, this is a couple that can become pretty depressing for both of them, as well as those around them ...  

And that’s exactly what Noboko and I were…

The individual darkness came about when I couldn’t convince her to disobey her father and to not only tell him you love me, but that he.. Andrew wants to marry his daughter and live happily ever after.

While Noboko fancied herself a princess as in the Disney flick Arabian Nights, I was relegated to Aladin, the so-called diamond-in-the-rough. Which was fine… I was doing all sorts of nasty things to a princess… so whatever…

But Noboko’s daddy issues… being in love with me, but being unable to follow her hart for fear of upsetting daddy…  I lost her.

I was alone again… had my heart ripped out… thrown asunder… it’s okay… I spent the next five years indulging myself in fulfilling sex, sculpting my body into something better and bigger, growing my hair long again, only sleeping with women involved in Toronto’s underground world of sex because I could.

And I was happy as a pig in sh!t.

Since then, I’ve been in a few relationships - even got married and have a kid…

Everyone as perfect as the one before… everyone thinking I’m not as good as I think I am… everybody’s looking for something.  

And I keep coming up as second-best.

Am I second best or have I just always looked awry? I’ve hardly ever looked… and those few time that I have… I’ve found some aloe for that burn.

So… when time after time, when every perfect woman seems imperfect, when does it become less about their imperfections, and more about your own imperfections.

And this is why I hate looking back at my time in Japan… despite it only being a three-year volatile period in my life, it makes me think about all the other years in between to where I am now.

It’s no longer where did I fug up… I’m at the point where it’s, what’s wrong with me?

But you know what? I don’t even want to know anymore

I’ve given up trying to figure out why things are the way they are - I’d go crazy if I continued to futz over the past here in the present.

Some say I got a bad attitude,
But that don't change the way I feel about you,
If you think all this might be bringing me down,
Look again cause I ain't wearin' no frown!

Lyrics to Everything About You by Ugly Kid Joe

Okay… let’s end this with I am The Walrus by The Beatles and King Lear by William Shakespeare:
Lennon: I am the eggman
(Gloucester: Now, good sir, what are you?)
Lennon: They are the eggmen
(Edgar: A most poor man, made tame to fortune's blows)
Lennon: I am the Walrus

goo goo good job goo goo goo good job
Goo goo goo joob g'goo goo goo joob goo goo

Of course the Walrus is from Alice and Wonderland.

No wonder it’s my favorite book… just like everything…

it’s all just stuff and nonsense,
him

6 comments:

  1. First, I know the story from previous blogs, but I liked the music choices and the lyrics (I get most lyrics wrong, so this interweb lookup thing is really great). Second ... I'm a virgo ... probably not much of a surprise ... lol.

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  2. Love this blog! Any tips on how to achieve the elusive male multiple O? how did you learn it?

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    Replies
    1. Yup. y'know how you flex something when you want to stop peeing... that's the muscle. You just flex that anytime you want, hold for a few seconds, release and hold again and release. That cuts of the ejaculation that accompanies the orgasm. You can still have the orgasm without the mess, and thus can keep going.
      Of course, you have to build up the muscle there... and that can take a couple of months... and like anything, you can over do the training of that muscle... kegels for men.
      I read a book called the Male Multiple Orgasm when I was in Japan (in English). I think that was the title... but there are quite a few books on the subject.

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    2. Thank you AnDoRyu-san! I had heard of these exercises, but assumed that contracting the muscle would also "step on" and block the pleasure of the orgasm, but sounds like that's not the case, with enough practice... will check out the book. Arigatou!

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