Human

I think it's very easy to portray any kind of image I want in every day conversation, on a telephone or even here in a blog. Yes lots of happy smiling faces and always answer "Yes, life is wonderful thank you" Pictures of teeth that spread from ear to ear as I continually paint my 'happy ever after'.
But the truth is so mundane and so normal and believe it not, I have off days and horrible moments and lovers quarrels. I'm in the middle of a quarrel right now and I've had a drink or two. Not that I want to use the drink as an excuse for writing something I may regret later. But the drink is fire in my belly to compliment the rage in my mind and honestly speaking, I'm too far past regrets and I write of how I honestly feel whether it's wrong or right. Perhaps when I reach forty or fifty years I may mellow out. If I look at my Father, he lives in a highly stressful world but he never shows any sign of caving in under pressure. As for me, I want to bitch slap it or run away or just ask someone for a little help on certain things if I feel pressure on me even if I consider myself mostly a woman of independent means. I'm allowed to be bitchy at some things because I am human!

It's been one of those weeks where first she had to cancel our date with Aya and I know I said something about her Father which maybe I shouldn't have said so I went along without her.
This isn't a problem really.
She didn't come home and stayed over there.
Again, it's not a problem but I do like to know what she's doing. A little communication would be nice since I always let her know my schedules.
I phone her and tell her we have tickets for the TGC next Saturday and then I find out she has an audition on that day for a part she desperately wants and paints me a picture of how great it would be if she can get it.
Oh well, I have to learn to be flexible.
Her career is important as I sit looking at her image in a magazine.
Then I find out that she has borrowed my turquoise suede purse that matches her new belt to go to her parents house. I used it just the evening before and I can't find it anywhere and it has my car keys inside it and when I phone her to ask if she's seen it, I get the "Opps, sorry, I have borrowed it!" So Saturday morning I have to get up at stupid O'clock to catch a train to Ueno for a morning appointment and when I wake up my hair is a disaster and looks like I spent twelve hours too long in the swimming pool. Don't iron your hair!
Then when you make a mad dash for the subway you wonder if to get the slow train with a few stops or the fast train that stops everywhere. Finally I think I manage to get the train with the novice driver who plans a new route via Australia. Without my car there is also no where to hide the ¥3000 worth of chocolate I bought to make my self feel better. That is unless I exchange my purse for a hiker's backpack and preferably one with the military camouflage pattern that sort of matches my under-eye appearance.

Mr Nakamura, my appointment for the morning, was not a nice man at all. I have to meet a great variety of people in my work and I think I'm fairly adept at nodding and smiling and being polite, saying the right things and asking the right questions and being on time and having a purse that contains everything I need, like my ID, my pass, money, voice recorder, phone, camera, cosmetics, fold up hat to hide my bad hair day. Along with everything I'm likely to need, first aid kit, Swiss knife with 99 blades you never use and one that's almost worn out, pepper spray, pens, paper and chocolate that I didn't consume on the subway in various stages of melt down and one even that has even reached critical mass and of course my indispensable breath mints.
I left the mints on his desk hoping he would take the hint because every time he talked or more likely shouted at me, I was blasted with garlic and last weeks fish dinner.
Yuck, it was like he'd been feasting on the rotten cadavers of cattle caught up in a flood. Skunks would have passed out in his presence. This man is a clothes designer and works in close proximity of so many people and he shouts at everyone and generally intimidates. I think I was intimidated to be honest. I couldn't tell if he's a designer because from his fashion sense I didn't know if he was dressed for the opera or for an operation. He looked like a cross between a porn movie pervert and someone who cleans toilets from the inside. I have never ever felt as uncomfortable in someone's proximity as I have with him. I'm also unsure of how to explain to you of how I might know how a porn movie pervert would look like. He was the kind of guy that avoids face to face contact, much preferring eye to blouse contact. Discreetly I have to check that I don't have one too many buttons undone.
The things I do to earn my money!!!
Even heading back home I felt people were looking at me as if some part of him had clung to me. I needed a shower and fast.
When I'm with an appointment, I always switch off my phone. So when I leave I switch it on again and answer all my missed calls. Again I have a job offer from the same guy I spoke of from last March.


April 2:

Last night I was finishing up an article at home, one I would have completed in the office had I not gone out for my new car when I had a phone call with an offer of work from the last place I expected.

Shock and surprise but I had to graciously decline and explain that I was happy in my present position. After the call ended I was suspicious about the motivation but I allowed myself a smile.

I better tell you that I worked for this guy before and it was a complete disaster. The best of times and the worst of times but I have no desire to touch any of that stuff again. I also had 2 missed calls from Hitomi and when I called her back her phone was off.
Oh how irritating.
When I arrived home to take my shower because I was not returning to the office without one, I saw my car keys on the breakfast table in the kitchen and no note or message from her.
Shower, and still mad at my hair and wish I could go see Maestro to sort it out for me, I get to the office and switch on my computer to start a transcript of the mornings appointment, I have office mail which is a link to YouTube and Phoebe from 'FRIENDS' singing 'Smelly cat'. I guess one of the girls must have met this guy before. Poo!

Hitomi phones and explains that she's staying at her parents house for a few days and that just really annoyed me. I don't know why, this is sudden and seemingly no reason and I start to think if I've done something wrong?
So I ask her, plead with her to come over tonight and we'll talk and then I look at the girls who are looking at me and I get up and take my phone out into the corridor.
Saturday night and I cook a nikujaga, a foreign style dish with meat and potatoes which is one of her favorites and I sit with a chilled sweet French wine and as the hours pass by I finish the wine and move on to two more bottles and watch the sad demise of a meal cooked with love slowly look less appetizing and I start picking out some of the meat to give to my cat.
I love ice cream the same way that some people love breathing and I find that it eases the worst affects of over indulgence on the grape. So after a torrid affair with Ben and Jerry I went to my bed feeling sure that she'd arrive at any moment.
No show.
I got up and went on the internet for an hour or two and then finally I fell asleep at half past unreasonable and still no sign of her.
She arrived at six thirty Sunday morning and get in bed beside me.
I cuddle up and she says she is so tired that she needs about twelve hours sleep.
Momo takes the hint. We can talk later. I get up and go to the kitchen and bang a few things.



The good news of today is that my hair looks a little more decent, a bit like when you place your fingers on live wires.
But I cynically tend to think my eyes are still cloudy from the grape. Perhaps I hope!
So yes, I'm human and it's not all happy ever after just in case you think my life seems a little idyllic.
My little problems might not be major ones but consider the fact that some bloggers with ego's measured in light years, like me, might not expound upon the major disasters or may trivialize them. Then again, I may just be so damn shallow that its only the trivial snobby and petty little things that do affect me.
Oh let me get a life!