Today is Friday, December 13, 1991.
I am an assistant English teacher (AET) selected by the JET (Japan Exchange & Teaching) Programme to teach junior high school English for the city of Ohtawara-shi, Tochigi-ken, Japan under the auspices of the OBOE (Ohtawara Board of Education).
But that's usually not what these type of blogs are about.
Having been virginal until I arrived in Japan from Toronto, I have made it my business to ensure that near 26-years of futility never happens to me again.
Today, I was supposed to be at the OBOE - and I was. But it was soooo boring, that I won't bore you with how boring it was.
I will tell you that the office expected me to join them at the bonnenkai (party) tonight, but rest assured I assure them that the 20,000 was a lot of money and that I could not afford it.
I probably could afford it, but I'm heading out to Singapore in a couple of weeks for a vacation with my friend James Dalton, and I need to watch the way I throw it around.
After work, I ride my bicycle to Ashley's place in Nishinasuno-machi - about a 25 minute ride.
With me, I have a couple of condoms (why?) because I also take a bottle of sake (Japanese rice wine) to heat up (her). I also bring along three videos: A Clockwork Orange; Good Fellas; and a porno flick in case I can interest her into watching or trying out some moves.
I also bring my contact lens case because I know I am going to spend the night - even though after 16 months here, I can count on one hand the number of times I have spent the night at her place and still have enough digits to thumb wrestle (and cheat!).
For about one year, Ashley and I were boyfriend/girlfriend. She broke up with me claiming that I was smothering her. Apparently the fact that she came to my apartment 4x a week (or more) and was fed by myself was all my fault.
Whatever. You know what? Despite being a social animal who craves acceptance, I grew up being exceedingly shy, and as such I am used to being by myself. I don't like it, but I can handle it. What the hell, eh? Why should I be around someone who says I cause her discomfort?
I have no idea... I like getting laid, I suppose... but if that's not happening, then all I am doing is letting her leech from me.
Since then she decided I wasn't all that bad of a guy, and that she would let us be friends-with-benefits. Wait. I get to have sex, but not have to buy her crap? Like dinner, flowers, stuff like that? And... I still get sex? I'm in.
However, I haven't been laid in months. From Ashley, that is. I don't consider being jerked off getting laid. It's more like getting jerked around - besides, I have a far better grip than Ashley. Do I need her? Let's see what happens tonight...
At Ashley's small apartment, we talk and eat a decent spaghetti dinner with garlic bread. Eating garlic bread is perfectly accepting behavior as along as both of you eat some.
We kiss a wee bit, watch the videos and drink the sake. Hint: Never cheap out and bring a small bottle of booze if you are trying to get laid. Hell... if it doesn't work, you will still have plenty of booze to drink yourself stupid.
After watching A Clockwork Orange, she's drunk and horny and jumps me. I am unsure how that über-violent movie made her horny AND drunk, but I don't care. We're naked in a flash and she guides me inside her - and the... something happened... she remembered something... that something being, I figure, that she doesn't want to screw me...
So, she made an excuse to go to the washroom, and when she came back she said: "Let's watch another video."
She stopped touching me. Stopped drinking the sake. Stopped being interesting. I however, started drinking a lot more sake. See?
Honestly... my mind is bloody racing. I'm not dumb, but I can't understand. I have no idea what the other video was that we watched... doesn't matter anyways...
I stopped the movie half-way through and asked her to explain herself. By the way... I'm not drunk or even buzzed. Being angry... it burns the alcohol from my brain quickly. I know that doesn't make sense, but that's what it feels like. Controlled anger. My cursing is my gift.
So... Ashley talks. Finally. I hate people who can not communicate. I can communicate - and then some. It probably makes me come off like some sort of grunting animal. Feral.
Ashley talks to me in slow, halting, but measured phrases in a style that I recognize 20 years later.
She says that one of the reasons she broke up with me was because I jumped her every time I saw her.
Yes... feral. I wanted to hump my girlfriend. I am such an animal. I had no idea that men should not want to screw their girlfriend. I'll have to file that away for future reference.
I tell her that since she never initiates sex, I had to constantly try and see if she was interested.
She was interested sometimes. She was not interested sometimes. Since she never gave any indication other than ambiguity before I tried something, I, the recently deflowered virgin, would try and jump my girlfriend to see if I could interest her in sex.
She said what I said was true.
I told her that if she and I were to have any sort of relationship, I still wanted sex. She said okay.
I did not tell her that have a sexless relationship with her kind of defeats the purpose of having a friend-with-benefit if there are no friggin' benefits. But I was thinking it. Why would I need someone - female or otherwise - if there was nothing in it for me? Ashley was a nice person (mostly), but she couldn't entertain me. Amuse me. Not unless sex was involved... and that may have just been me mostly getting my ego fed. No idea what the truth or reality was. I still don't.
Anyhow... I told Ashley that I would try not to jump her every time I saw her.
I'm unsure why I decided to tell her this, but I did: I said I once contemplated marrying her, which completely blew her away, saying "I don't know what to say."
But... she added: "For the first time since I met you... I understand."
That means she realized just how much I loved her... or at least just how fervent my emotions are.
Although no sex was forthcoming, we did go to bed naked beside each other... warm, comfortable... and at least for myself, at ease.
But I am never at ease. Sometimes I wonder if I will ever be at ease... taking every perceived slight or action or inaction as something that needs to be dissected and examined. I don't want to do that, but I fear I must or I will go further insane than that which I appear to be.
I had a dream....
The house I lived in was a former army barracks. My dad was there... he had a book and a map... the map showed the way to a coffin that held a special surprise inside. That's what I was told, as he pointed to the un-named book. My mother, father and younger brother Ben entered my bedroom in the basement, I sat on my bed, as my father led them past me towards the furnace. Beside the furnace, there was a wooden fence surrounding a storage area there, which they pulled away...My father looked at the map and said that the coffin was there underneath a guitar case... he moved the guitar case, and sure enough... there was a beautiful polished wooden coffin. I got off the bed and helped - probably because I was the strongest... and to see myself in this dream, that wasn't saying much.
Grabbing the coffin, all four of us hefted it out of the furnace room and placed it down onto a second nearby bed. Prying it open, there was a mummy inside. Dad clapped his hands twice. The mummy sat up in the coffin. I jumped in shock and ran over to my mother and brother - not to protect them, but to be protected.
The mummy began to talk and offered a plethora of worldly advice, all of it pertaining to Ben: "I know you just wrote many exams and tests and are worried about them. Forget it. You did your best. You can't do anything about the past, so don't worry."
That's when I noticed my dad asleep on my bed. My brother called to him. Dad woke up saying, "I'm awake,' but then went immediately back to sleep. Ben shook him. My father sat-up in my bed and said, "I'm awake," and dropped like he fainted back down onto the bed. I then moved towards him and grabbed him and moved him onto his feet and woke him up with louts of yelling and shaking of his body. That's when I noticed the mummy faint away as my father woke up. Then as my father crumpled in my arms, the mummy resumed providing advice - this time to myself.
The mummy had some control over my dad.
Do you want to know what advice the mummy gave me? I'll tell you. He said...
"Andrew you need to listen carefully..."
He talked for what seemed like hours, but it was of course, far less time than that...
And then I woke up.
Somewhere knowing I'll let you all know about what the mummy told me eventually,
It seems stupid to say this, but when I slept beside Ashley, I always had colorful dreams that felt real. By myself... it was rare that anything stood out. Or perhaps I only remembered the dreams after being emotionally exhausted. To this day, I still force myself to go on very little sleep in order that I try and have a vivid dream. In 2012, since I suppose everyone dreams, I rarely remember any of them, but still wonder if I do dream. I do so badly want to live in my dreams... but what if I don't have interesting dreams anymore?
Today's blog title is by Canada's own The Tragically Hip because I had a feverish dream...