going around something is the same as going through it

I was lost in my thoughts of everything that has been happening with me & her recently, so I decided to go for a walk. It was 1:30 in the morning. It was raining. But I had my iPod.

I thought of walking to the 100 yen store, but I didn't want to carry anything back & I don't like window shopping. So I walked toward the station to see what was happening in my little neighborhood. I took my earplugs out. Something wasn't quite right with the Audioslave I had been listening to. I listened to the drops hit the pavement, the trees, the parked cars. It sounded like music so I put my iPod in my pocket.

I am aware that this feeling deep in my stomach is not from her at all. And this feeling is not bad, in fact it does feel bad & is the complete opposite of the feeling I told her about. Such is the duality of the ethereal.

Three men were standing outside of the hostess club. I did not look back at them & would not be affected by their eyes. I felt like crossing the street & began to walk my usual route. The late-night sports bar was open. I thought of going there another night. I turned down the street to the cantina. I didn't want to walk past the place we first had dinner. But the street I turned down was not the street to the cantina after all. I saw a park, & those dome-like things with metal bars I climbed on as a child.

I looked down a street to my left which ran parallel to the train tracks. I saw lights. I could smell ramen. It looked interesting. It was a street that I had wanted to walk down in the past. I crossed over & saw Jack's Inn Cantina.

This feeling is not me. It's not from her but I made it. It's pointing to me.

I passed an apartment building and saw light coming from a second-floor window. There were stuffed animals sitting on the window's ledge. There were at least ten.

I saw the owner turn over the CLOSED sign of the cantina. I looked at an apartment window in the distance: a woman's silouette closed curtains. I thought about non-resistance. I'm learning that it is one of the greatest things.

Sometimes going around something is the same as going through it.

That day she disappeared into the woods created a space in my life. I had wondered who would be next to fill it. Maybe it was the one I met today. The girl who kept wavering from my gaze, but kept searching for it again. I hoped so.

I heard what sounded like a bell. Then again. And again. It was the rain hitting something metal. It made music again. And then men's voices in the distance. Loud, arrogant, drunken. I looked at them but didn't want to see.

Then one said, "you drunken mother fucker" & grabbed & punched one of the other ones. The third one acted with weakness. He rested one arm on each as the one began the throw to the ground of the other one as I kept walking. They went out of view. I didn't hear this other one hit the ground.

I was close to the station & heard the bell sounds again. What would I see next? A convenience store & a couple walk in. I hopped over the railing to jaywalk across the street & thought about how good a tuna rice ball would taste at this moment.

But once inside I decided to buy a drink. The man blocked my path to the coolers. I walked back down the aisle to come up the other side. They were choosing chuhi's & giggling, lost in their moment.

I began to reach for a Coke Zero. I then remembered it was what she had with her that day. The girl's back blocked me & as I reached around anyway she moved forward.

Another one wearing a large gold necklace with alphabet pendants & a short skirt walked in as I was walking out. She looked like a hostess & was talking to someone on the phone. I could hear her say that she was also off today.

As I walked toward home the girl's strong perfume lingered with me & the night's soft music resumed.

my body

My hands are red. I think it may be from all the Jim Beam & Coke Zero I drank last night. Or maybe it's from all the sun I've been getting lately. I look at my head in the mirror: It's red, too.

Last night I stepped on the scale, naked, in the Gold's locker room. 81.6. It was teasing me. The red numbers jumped to 82.0. We're talking kg people. :-)

My head is very fucked up right now. For the last three days (since I met that woman who put music in my head) I haven't been able to think straight or write. And when I do think & when I do write, weird shit comes out.

When you're a gaijin man in Japan & you're naked in front of other men (Japanese) they all stare at your wanker. It's curiosity, I guess. Back home we'd say, "hey you fucking homo! ..." But here I've gotten used to it.

I remember once when I was happily relieving myself in the subway restroom when a young man a couple urinals down, finished his business, & then stood there staring at my _____ until I finished.

So back to the rest of my body. Last year I weighed 104 kg.

...

I just read an old journal entry from two years ago when I was fat. My voice sounded different when I read the words just now. Maybe it was because I was fat.

I just posted it here but then deleted it. It was shit writing & long. I'm sure you have better things to do with your day than to read long crappy writing, yeah?

...

There's a problem with the confocal microscope. Brains says someone touched the apparatus up top. I didn't do it. Brains is always blaming people for stuff, & Muscles is always blaming me. So when Brains & Muscles get together, I like to leave the room. This happens quite often & it happened yesterday:

We had our monthly staff meeting &, as usual, Muscles says something to Sensei before the meeting is done. It's always something about me. And this something was also about the 1.5ml tubes.

"There's a big box of tubes. Why does Vandelay always order just a few bags? What's wrong with him? Why ...," she goes on.

I start to feel the tension rise up to my shoulders & I push it back down into my stomach & then recognize what I'm doing & stop & feel like laughing or smiling but I just sit there while she goes on.

The conversation between Muscles & Sensei begins to wind down & I take the opportunity to say I understand, so I say "sounds good."

This pisses off Muscles. She stares at me but then looks away & with a strong stern voice she says "Oh sounds good. Well you can't just say that. You need to remember!"

Remember what? I think.

No one in this place tells me anything & when they do it's always blame. That's how it is to work in Japan. If you think I'm wrong, ask anybody who has worked with Japanese.

I let it go.

Breathe in...

Breathe out...


(Repeat 2x)

Aummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

That's why I keep acting like a buddhist. My friends & family think I'm insane. But if you're always having to let shit go ... you end up becoming one with the universe.

I digress. Back to my body.

I've been putting too much shit into it. Like alcohol. And recently, smokes again. Ah it's terrible. My brain has become a vegetable of late.

So yesterday I go to the supermarket & see lots of good shit but I end up buying large leafy lettuce, no fat tuna, soybeans & cottage cheese. I love cottage cheese.

I get back to work & peel off the container & - all the while talking to Dr. O- about the wonders of the stuff - my cottage cheese looks quite different than before.

It's all watery & strange.

I look at the date: it expired a month ago. Shit! I'm glad I didn't eat it. So now begins another adventure when I go back to the store & talk to customer service. How I'm going to do this in Japanese I have no idea but I will get my money back or a new cottage cheese. I love that stuff.

I'm going for a six-pack. I never had one.

There's 7 calories in 1 gram of alcohol. Four each in carbs & protein & a whopping 9 calories from each gram of fat.

...

I walked to the convenience store to get some gum. My breath smells like the smoke from last night.

I thought how much I'm like my father. I need to keep moving. And I will keep moving. I will fall in love but I won't get married. I won't try to settle down because that is not my nature. As much as I want to settle down, it is impossible. It is not what I need.

You can't always get what you want. So I'll try sometimes.

...

I decided to tell her:

When I think of you I get this feeling inside, & I like it. I'm not sure what this feeling is, but I haven't had it in a while. I won't act on this feeling, but I wanted to thank you. Even though I'm not sure if this feeling is coming from you, or if in fact I'm making it myself, I think you're part of it somehow & I want to know how you're a part of it & my hope is that you might feel something when you think of me.

Fuck I can't say that. Can I?

...

I got my cottage cheese & ate nearly the entire container. That stuff is goooood, goooood for your body.

even ducks avoid the rain

I often leave the lab during lunch to get away. I usually end up going down to the pond to sit & ponder or stroll around the edge for extra exercise. Today I went for the exercise & not to ponder.

Most people were walking outside with umbrellas, but after living in Washington State for a bit, I find umbrellas useless. I really do. If it's going to rain, I have my coat/jacket & baseball cap. I walk a little quicker.

I saw S- sitting outside near the helicopter eating a bento. He was enjoying the moment. I saluted him & walked to the pond. I could see three people fishing. Father & son & another son. They had long poles. One kid held the pole while the father threw the line in. I could see the big red & white bobber go flying into the water.

I then thought back to San Diego, when Dad & I & M- went deep sea fishing. We took an overnight boat, & M- was the only girl on it. All the guys were getting restless after a few hours & I was wondering how much longer it would be before we would be in Mexico with lines in the water. We were going for tuna. And by the time we got back home we had three or four, if I remember correctly. That was seven years ago.

What I do remember is on the way out, & sleeping near the bow of the boat with M- curled up against me, both of us exhausted & sweaty, the storm doing nobody any good. Finally morning arrived & we were drinking coffee & preparing baited lines. The sea in the morning, if calm, is the most beautiful thing I can imagine. That was the reason to fish. We could buy tuna anywhere. But how often could we see the Mexican sea at dawn?

As I walked around the lake I thought of the beauty of a rainy day & how wondrous the trees have been looking lately & how much I am happy that I am alive.

The ducks & the other little birds were floating & flying in pairs. Two ducks flew away when I approached. I watched them soar together through the air, & land between other pairs. All of them were curled up together, avoiding the rain.

grapefruits moon

I hadn't heard from her in a while, so I sent her an innocuous message: "Wasn't today such a beautiful day?!"

She called me & said she was with the friend who wanted to meet me & would I meet them at Lawson's. Sure. I had no money. Well, I had hardly enough to bring me through the week until Friday, this month's fabulous pay day.

I had only met her that one time when I picked her up off the train. She was sitting next to me & after everyone else in the car had gotten off at their stop, there she sat, we sat, the two of us on our way to the last station. She didn't move over, so I complemented her on something attached to her phone. In Japan, girls (& guys, me included) have random shit hanging from the phone. In many cases the shit is bigger than the phone. I forgot what S- had on her phone. After we got to the station I led her to Mr. Donuts & she chatted away while I sobered up. That was a month ago.

So last night I went to Lawson's and the girl she brought was all smiles. We strolled around laughing, etc., looking for this Grapefruits Moon S- was going on about. It sounded familiar. I had seen it somewhere before but couldn't place it.

(Btw, S- isn't bad looking. She has a Cindy Crawford mole over her lip & one of the sexier voices you'll hear in this country.)

Turned out it was a place that I used to pass everyday when I walked to the station from work. S- made a circle with her hands, saying "grapefruits moon." Ah, you mean "full moon." The Japanese add an -s to grapefruit & supposedly think the full moon looks like one.

The place was cool, modern, hip. I just ordered a nomihodai for ¥1000. Nomihodai means "all-you-can-drink." This nomihodai was for 80 minutes. Not bad. I proceeded to get drunk.

The girls ordered lots of food: a giant salad, some spaghetti with marinara sauce, with a huge clove of garlic that T- thought was a scallop, pizza, etc. etc.

I just drank. S- joined me in the challenge. T- didn't because she had to work tomorrow. "Me, too," I exclaimed.

The girls told me about where they want to go. "I want to go to New Zealand," T- said. "Why?" I asked.

They thought this was funny so they both started laughing. "I want to speak English. I like sheep."

"I like to eat sheep," I said. They started laughing again.

S- had two cell phones. "Why do you have two cell phones?" I inquired.

"One is for my boyfriend," she said.

So her boyfriend gave her a phone so she can call him for free. At least that's what she said. And she said she keeps a separate phone for her friends. She showed me the friend phone. It was worn & gritty, covered with stickers. She said she hardly looks at the phone her boyfriend gave her. This was the first I've heard of "the boyfriend," so I said "yes" when she asked me if I wanted to see a picture.

I saw a picture of an average-looking fellow with eyes closed making a strange face. His nose was scrunched & strangely contorted to the left.

S- stared at the picture. "Where is he?" I asked.

"Hamamatsu." (hours away)

This is the thing about Japan. People love their long-distance loves. I used to have one (sort of) and I hated it. There are millions of men living away from their families in Japan, and both parties are apparently happy. These men are called business bachelors. My boss is one. And then there are the millions of boyfriend/girlfriend relationships scattered across Japan (& the world). I have dated a few of these lonely girlfriends. (Oops, the secret is out.)

Back to this picture:

T- is done eating and S- keeps putting it down. She has given up on the alcohol at this point. I proceed to order my fifth & final vodka drink. By now I'm feeling pretty damn good and T- is looking quite sexier than before I started drinking. S- finishes eating & I pay my ¥1000 yen & we walk outside. S- is obviously drunk. She has only had a few drinks by this point. She said she is going to run home. She's wearing high-heels. Earlier she told me she entered the Hawaiian marathon in December, but she has never run more than 5 kilos at a time. T- and I say goodbye to S- & she reluctantly heads in the other direction.

T- points to her building in the distance. "I live on the 14th floor," she says.

"Wow, really?"

I think about walking her home but just say bye & take care because I'm tired. I head home & before bed just stare at my body in the mirror & wonder when I'll get my first two-pack.

my relationship to the present

I have been thinking about this constantly since reading it last night. After I read it, I decided to get off my ass & go for a walk.

I walked my usual route, past the station. It was Friday night. Many people were out getting drunk. I took a turn down a street I'd never been down. I looked in a little place calling itself a cantina. A girl inside, facing the glass door so we caught eyes, threw a dart while lifting up her leg. Another girl sat at the bar with her back to the door. I glanced at the menu. Beer ¥470. Not tonight, keep walking buddy.

I walked under the Higashiyama train line & took a right turn at the corner. I thought about my relationship to the present. "I am walking," I thought. How much simpler does it get? Movement through space. That is how I anchor myself in the present.

I took a left turn and headed towards Max Value. Three girls walked by me. The one closest to me stared into my eyes & grabbed a big lock of her hair. Keep walking buddy.

I saw the cashier who checked me out earlier, when I bought two chicken breasts & some mackeral fillets for ¥555. She was sweeping the entranceway now, getting ready to close. Up ahead I noticed three girls, two of which were propping each other up as they walked. They walked slowly. Both wore short skirts. I came to a red light & crossed to the other side. Three young guys in suits with crazy hair, smoking cigarettes, were laughing & pointing at the girls stumbling on the other side. One of the guys came inches of bumping into me. He was trying to create space. I walked on.

I saw three more guys outside of a bar. One was standing up drinking a pitcher of beer. The other two were crumpled over with the white sticks drooping from their mouths, their eyes expressionless. A bike nearly hit me. The bar was full of large groups of college students. I saw a girl take a long drag. The energy was Japanese. Drunken, young, confined, Japan.

There's a pressure here & you'll feel it once you step off the plane. Even if people get drunk, they do so in a structured way. There's always someone to prop you up when you walk home.

I turned onto my street & everything got quiet. I looked at the houses, their sculptured hedges, lights on in the windows. Two bricks tied together with a string sitting on the sidewalk. I walked on.

the trouble with plurals

S- keeps missing his plurals. He doesn't say the final "-s" at the end of them. He has a success rate of about 20%. I've been telling him this for two years. But we laugh about it.

Last night Dr. R- wasn't stalking me. For the past couple of weeks she mysteriously appeared on the exact train & car I was traveling on to Fushimi. She said she wasn't stalking me yesterday. We had a good laugh.

M- didn't come to the lesson. Maybe she was stuck in her laboratory. But the three of us watched a video on animal memory. The damn chimp won every time. He was able to learn arabic numerals & push them in order (we can do that). Then the numbers were blanked out, & the guy could still do it (we couldn't). Even people that were trained for 6 months couldn't do it as quickly as the chimp. How about that? One thing: the chimp was getting a peanut each time. If you're starving, & you were competing for food against the chimp, would you win?

After the lesson I walked to Sakae to my meeting place for M-. He owed me 3,000 yen for the bed he got from me last year. I've been too lazy to get it from him, but now I have like $50 until next week, so I had to get it from him. Our meeting place was outside Sunshine Sakae where all the hosts gather. They dress in suits & wear pointy shoes & spiky hair. Women (well, mostly girls, really) walk by & the guys approach trying to get the girls to come to their club. The girls are usually hostesses themselves. It's a how money is circulated. From the rich guys --> hot girls --> spiky-haired guys --> ? --> rich guys.

M- says he's still with his girl. He's mad because she won't stop working at the maid cafe. She dresses in a maid uniform & serves guys. M- says it's kind of shady but he trusts his girl. She's only 19, I believe. M- says he's starting Jr. High from May & he has convinced his girl that she can't keep coming to his house at 2am every night. So she's going to quit. I'm curious.

I got my money & crammed onto the train. I listened to my music & looked at the guys in their suits & the very few women, too few in fact, in this car. They were all next door in the women-only car. Division of the sexes.

hoop dreams

From the middle of the court, T- kept lobbing balls at the rim, but they kept hitting the backboard. We just finished 3-on-3 and were waiting for the four new guys, well three guys & a girl, to hurry up so we could run full-court. A girl looked on from the sideline. She looked young. She was crouching down next to a guy in his 20s, with tattoos covering his arms. He had shaved eyebrows & a little mustache, the kind you used to see a long time ago, and you sometimes still see in movies.

There were many I remember well.

One was a layup, where I hesitated in front of the guy guarding the rim, went around him to the left & did a finger roll while he fouled my arm. Swoosh.

Another was when I lined up behind the arc in the right corner, we needing a three to win, and high off the backboard, no, bang on the rim, bang again, backboard again, swoosh, with T- screaming, "yeah, yeah!"

And later in the left corner behind the arc, no one around & T- screaming, "shoot!" The Japanese guy guarding me running & jumping & me arcing the ball high, too high, I think, but then swoosh, while T- is screaming again.

T- is cool. He also has tattoos covering his arms. R-, as well. Me, with my little one on the left shoulder, but inside wishing I was as inked as these guys. In this country tattoos are taboo. On the court, they are a mark of passion.

R- was getting hot so he took off his shirt. His black skin & sweat, reflecting the lights above, his body sculptured in a Holyfield remake, made us all look on in wonder. The girl on the sideline kept staring. Her guy kept running over between games to let her sit on his lap.

Afterwards we sat exhausted while people slowly got up to leave. The girl walked out after the mustache guy. "Was that a high school uniform," T- shouted. Yes, it was. "I want her to sit on my lap," he said. "But I'm probably the only guy in here who will say something like that." We waited patiently, and slowly our lives outside the court started to come back to us.