Its a modern day tragedy when someone you’ve always thought as a little bit more intellectually sophisticated than a mammal, turns out to not be.

These days, it seems everything is predictable down from the stock market to the number of suicides on a particular day of the month based on the weather forecast. When indeed, people react no different than a robot being programmed. Even their very choice of words are predictable!

Has the world come to this?

There is something about Japan, that is deadly to the state of being.

Life here is a clockwork that can be deceptively fulfilling on some days, on other days this society feels like a prison to which escape is forever futile. While the rest of the world raves on about Japan, completely oblivious to the throes of social problems that plague this country, 2 Japanese throw themselves infront of the oncoming train every other minute. There is a very good reason why Japan has the highest suicide rate in the world, the same number as the United States in a country that has half the population.

Japanese people live in an unforgiving society where each mistake warrants a swift and biting punishment. The system dictates everyday living, a clockwork prison where trains come right on the exact second, where a mistake no matter how minor could derails everything. This is a society that craves for murderous perfection and it is only dark irony that in a necropolis of the aged, the middle aged are addicted to self destruction.

Like toy soldiers dressed in the monotone uniform of corporate office wear, they all fall down.

So there is truth in the proverbial cliché “you are my better half”.

Because when you are gone, my world starts to crumble and very quickly my façade of strength dissolves into an acerbic mess. I am left here, bitter and angry at the situation. At our situation.

But in complete honesty, except for your frequent occupational disappearances,  life in Japan has been generous. By the end of october, with my 3rd full paycheck I would be able to finish paying off all of my student loan. My pockets are deep and well-padded but like the travesty life is, I have found that when you’ve bought everything there is you want to buy, money no longer really makes you happy.

This is not to say that I have succumbed to sighing pathetically like nostalgic yuppies. I am immensely grateful with all this money but I am too heartbroken today to count my blessings. I was holding my own until now, but I suppose faced with the prospect of not seeing my husband until the end of next month can be quite daunting. Other couples have it easier. Not us.

Never us.

Depravity and deprivity. Such is the nature of the hidden maladies that fester in my soul. Until Patrick comes along and the lightness of his kisses give me redemption.

Going to the tri shoppers paradise of shibuya, shinjuku, harajuku on a sunday is an experience out of this world, integral to your stay in Japan. Prepare to wage utter and complete war upon a sea of humanity in the world’s most populous city as you trudge through the concrete jungle in the intolerable swelter. Impossibly so, the  humidity becomes even worse and you ask yourself for the billionth time why you put yourself through the trauma ( validation: zara sale, h&m )  as you exit the train station only to be pillaged mercilessly by an army of tourists armed with cameras.

The entire fucking world is there.

I cursed in disbelief when I saw the insane line outside forever 21. There were security guards outside the 4 storey apparel store, and the line snaked past the next block.  I stood there for a second, mouth opened in pure, unadulterated shock before I was almost mowed over by two harajuku girls. My point about forever 21 is that the situation was absurd, because there wasn’t even a sale going on. And come on guys, its forever 21.

Time is money.

Miraculously, I shoved and pushed my way through the colony of bodies right into h&m. I’ve found that in this economic downturn , and generally the more expensive a store the less the crowd. Zara for example, was significantly less crowded than say h&m and needless to say, forever 21. The number of irritants and squealing high school girls also varies inversely to the price range of the particular store. Burberry was virtually a graveyard, so quiet I had a distinctly kafka-esque moment of feeling strangely trapped in a space warp. Time was made when I stepped out and melted into the deluge of people.

In Asia..

All your senses are invaded upon. Japan for me has become a place where my ears are incessantly abused by random vans shrieking incoherently in Japanese, or the annoyingly loud music that signals the arrival of the garbage truck  assailing my sweet slumber. Or the cacophony of salespeople yelling on the streets for a sale or promotion of some sorts. It is tragic irony that to mask the jarring dissonance of city life, my ipod sings at full volume a euphony of Lady GaGa and Chopin. This abuse doesn’t stop just at your ears. Flyers and packets of kleenex decorated with neon advertisements are thrust into your hand, personal space, face as you walk down the streets.  There’s always a random person dressed in a mish-mash of neon clothing sauntering down the road, completely oblivious to the world and to their hideous fashion sense.

In the busiest cities of Asia, the notion of personal space doesn’t exist.

Aside from my demotivation towards blogging, all is well and alive in my world.

Work really isn’t so hard, most days the only annoyance is boredom and twice a week for 45 mins each, my least favorite person in the whole world.Wait, scratch that. Thankfully my least favorite person in the world has dropped off from the face of the earth and aside from the occasional facebook whine, I hardly ever hear or speak to her. My student on the other hand, is an annoying prick of a problem I deal with bi-weekly much to my chagrin.

Its not that he doesn’t speak. Its that when he does, he has this patronizing tone about him. Shocking really, that condescension from a man who can hardly speak English can transcend through the barriers of culture and language. The way he grins foolishly all the time, viewed initially as arrogance slowly became apparent that it was in fact, stupidity. He seems to not process my words, his eyes glazed and his smile empty. Those are the minutes I dread to come and when they do, they are an eternity. God, I have this crazy desire to want to slap his face but I’m secretly afraid that in a kafkaesque moment it will prove to be rubber and bounce back to and fro, impervious to my every strike.

But then most of my students are sweethearts. One old ( and very rich ) lady who sports a rolex and several diamond rings to class, has her own fruit cake chain of shops. Last week, she surprised me by bringing several little packets of fruit jello which, were SUBLIME. The raspberry tasted like the actual fruit and the plum favored one actually had a little ume in it that was delightfully sweet and not sour at all, unexpectedly.

Another male engineer makes me try harder everytime because of the sheer effort he puts into speaking, writing and living in general. I think he has a mild case of cerebral palsy because he speaks very loudly but not deliberately so and he writes with such concerted effort that beads of sweat would roll down his forehead from the endeavor. Its really an uplifting sight though quite a heart wrenching one because its hard to see someone try so hard to do the near impossible with herculean effort and even more determination, while you sit by rendered helpless on the opposite side of the table. Its like it isn’t wood between us anymore, and instead a deep chasm. Days like these reminds me to count my blessing always. He rarely ever misses a lesson and classes with him are always memorable. When he doesn’t show up, he usually calls. And when he doesn’t do either, I worry.

The third person worth mentioning is a curious young lady who was an au pair in the summer months of Austin, TX 10 years ago. She speaks with formidable english ( at least for a japanese ) and is quite independent in her thoughts. Given the opportunity, away from the social cloister of her husband who forbids her to work ( wth ) , she really would succeed. At times, she is perhaps a bit too outspoken for my liking but then again I prefer unadulterated candor to the stifling decorum of Japanese society.

Work really is quite fun but on my days off ( sundays and mondays ) I sometimes hit the mall. This past weekend was different, instead of loitering around the two malls near my house I actually ventured out ( against my better judgement ) to tokyo! One of the main reasons why I loathe going to the city is its vastly complex train system.Coupled with my  feeble grasp of Japanese, getting lost becomes an urban nightmare. Too many bright lights and too much noise makes the swelter unbearable in a sea of people. I start getting panicky and my heart races. Its like I’m getting a seizure and I start to think that I’m too old for this. Unlike generous Singaporean train drivers, the Japanese do not tolerate fools. In particular, fools who are either late or too stupid to figure out that the train on the platoform is headed to shibuya. So I had to wait 18 more mins for the next one as I helplessly watched my train speed away, feeling terribly stupid.The  trip was worthwhile though. Kudos to Melissa for waiting 40 mins for me and for braving the crazy madhouse that was forever 21 and h&m filled with fashion hungry schoolgirls. To reward ourselves we got 240 yen cocktails at an irish pub nearby. All in all, the retail damage was about 200 USD for 7 awesome items from zara, h&m and forever 21 . The fun of seeing how crazy Tokyo really is, was cheap and the company, priceless.

This past weekend was exceptional, normally I either have chores to run and errands to do or I take it easy with Patrick with a movie on base. Thankfully we have either sundays or mondays together, not two days but one is considered a luxury. His working hours are peculiar and his days off even so. I prefer that to underway though

Sigh. Even the thought of it depresses me because then I’ll come home to an empty house. A beautiful, but empty house. I can’t wait till Curry joins us in Japan sometime in October.

Seriously though even thinking about underway makes me not want to blog anymore. I shall have to plan another trip to harajuku to shop away my misery.

First day of work went very well, all I did was sit in for classes and hang out with the students. During my tutelage the Englishman I was working with did a fantastic job at illustrating everything I needed to learn. Max also had an awesome personality and it also helped that I only actually worked 6 hours haha so all in all it was a swell day. The previous 2 days of ‘training’ were unbelievably boring, mostly because I sat and listened for 8 damn hours. In between lunch and coffee breaks I struggled to stifle yawns while grinning stupidly to draw attention away from my flaring nostrils. My students for Saturday are all males and actually in general most of English learners at Geos seem to be all guys.I guess women have it easier, they just date a white guy to learn English. Socioeconomically men get paid more in the Japanese society, even fo rthe same work done by women so they are more likely to afford expensive languagae classes like these. Additionally Japanese wome don’t get promoted as much as their male counterparts so there is little incentive to want to better yourself when work doesn’t give a shit. Here’s another instance of how primitive these people can get.

Anyway I’m not here to rant. I’m actually not entirely sure what to blog about anymore, aside from the staid subject of work. It seems we’ve all grown up and along with salaries, and talks of bonuses we’ve become a little more tired. Few people I know blog religiously these days, and for those who do their (sporadic) entries are getting less insightful, more resigned and with that, thankfully shorter. Its a little depressing, seeing our big childhood dreams evaporate into the iniquities of a 9-5. Funny how ignorance and naivety can sometimes seem so laughably tragic. When I was a child, I use to want to be a lawyer. And in some repressed, childhood way I still kind of do. The operative word here being “kind of “. But when I see how hard all my lawyer friends have to work, the anguish of not being one dissipates into relief. Still, one cant help but wonder how it would or could be like because someone elses’ experience can differ quite starkly from our own. And strangely, it quite often does for me.

When you start work, life never stops spinning. Like a clockwork, you can rarely sit down and take a languid break without making haste because there are so many other pressing matters to attend to.

Laundry. Cleaning. Dishes. Grocery shopping.

The list goes on and when it starts whittling down, you realize that its almost dusk on your second off day. The next working day heralds in the horizon and its the only thing you think about before you fall asleep.

I prefer to avoid thinking about my life in such existentialistic terms because its a bit depressing to see myself becoming the very subject that plato talks endless about not becoming. Instead, I like to look forward to the tidy little sum of money I’ll get in compensation for my daily grind at the end of the month, or the days off that Patrick and I share together. Afterall, thingaren’t so bad ; I’ve got a job, a steady paycheck monthly, loving parents, wonderful siblings, a wonderful house and an amazing husband to come home to.

I NEED TO STOP SPENDING MONEY ON RETAIL!!!!!

For the week and a half that I’ve been here, I’ve spent a whopping sum of $1000 usd on misc purchases – desired and required.

I feel a bit sick looking at my bank account and seeing the nmber of times my husband transfered large sums of money to me, only to be left with a meagre fraction of what was originally in it. Try as I do to convince myself that some purchases were absolutely neccesary like 8 boxes of my dailies contact lenses which am0unted up to $160 usd, giving my dad $200 usd for our outstanding long distance phone bills and almost $200 usd spent on beads, I still feel terrible. Lets not forget the $75 usd on canned curry, coffee, tea, packeted drinks all sent back to Japan.

Nevermind that my air ticket costs us $40 usd which was paid for taxes, and would otherwise have been free thanks to accumulated miles from previous travels to and fro the United States. I’m not the kind of girl to drop a thousand in a week. This is someone’s paycheck for the month.

I try to convince myself that most, if not all of the subsequent purchases were rarely on whim but instead thought out methodically. Like the wool coat I loved so much was a tad pricey but my rationale was that I can’t find it in America or Japan anyway, and it was going to be one of those pieces that I cherished. As I was telling Crystal yesterday, I only spend that kinda money on something I really really like. The rest of th purchases went to hidden, sunken costs like food and transpor. Guiltily it also went to a lot of other stuff. BUT its not like I spent it all on any single item, the overhead ( as I’d like to call it ) went into countless other things as well like shoes, clothes.. Mainly clothes really haha.

Well I suppose I shan’t be shopping for a very long time and definitely not in Japan where shit is overpriced. Better to get it outta my system now eh?

Jewelry has always been less about the brand and more about the looks. Like art, it has to be valued by the quality of how it makes you feel, and not so about the price. Admittedly, marvelous jewelry usually comes with a hefty price tag.

But thank god for imitation, which I prefer to call alternatives.

My daily obsession changes a lot and unfortunately, I have expensive tastes.

On Monday it was a wool coat I saw at Blum & Co that cost $400 sgd with embroidered flowers and lacey sleeves.On Tuesday, I fell in love with a pair of shoes from Circa Joan & David that were $280 sgd that I decided was too expensive and I didn’t feel like getting ripped off here when I know I can get it cheaper at Lord & Taylor.

On Wednesday, I was captivated by a betsey johnson dress I saw online for $180.

The following day, I became exceedingly enamored with the Tiffany Legacy ring. Truly, it is a piece of sparkly heaven.

GORGEOUS.

Unfortunately I don’t feel like spending $13,000 usd on any one thing. I don’t care if its a tiffany, it could be from Jared’s and I’d still love it. I mean if I am reluctant to save up for a birkin or a kelly, why would I splurge on a mere ring? Ah then again, its not JUST a ring its a tiffany some may say.

Happily, I found a jeweler that is able to duplicate it for a fraction of the cost. Now its just about spending my entire paycheck on it haha. Which doesn’t seem as excessive because my engagement ring that Patrick got me costs twice as much as the fake tiffany So I’ll get it in due time as a present to myself haha.

As for my previous retail beaus, Patrick bought me the coat as a graduation present Bless his heart! As for the betsey johnson dress, I’m still contemplating if I should get it. If I did, what occasion would I wear it for? My previous betsey is still sitting forlornly in my closet since I last wore it for my rehearsal dinner. So I have the money to, but $180 usd can buy me many many albeit uglier dresses here. I miss the days when women actually wore beautiful dresses and not the disgusting pieces of mass produced shit coming out of thailand that is free size. I am immediately turned off when the salesgirl tells me its free sized. Because if they can’t be bothered to make the dress in different sizes, I’m not paying 50 bucks for that piece of junk at far east or wherever.

I want to know why in a country (allegedly) famed for its electronic expertise , the cellular phone line drops every 5 minutes.

Japan sickens me.

From the stifling nature of its people to the unrelenting red tape of bureaucracy translating to unflexible work practices, there is nothing worthy of praise in this god forsaken country.

2 weeks ago, I went to the Japanese post office near my house to open a postal bank account as requested by my employer. The fucktards there insisted on an alien registration card which members of the SOFA visa are not required to have, or a lease under my name. The lease is under Patrick’s name and unless we want to pay usd $2300 every month for the house instead of the navy covering this expense, it was NOT about to be changed to my name. So on both attempts I was at the post office, I was denied even after I showed them our joint phone bill statement in an effort to be as legit as possible. They remained impervious to all my efforts, cretins.

Talking about phone bills brings me to my next point. The previous weekend, Pat and I decided our AU phones were just not gonna cut it. Most of its functions were in Japanese and his 8.0 megapixel camera was so shitty it wasnt worth the extra $100 we paid for it. Anyway, we decided to switch to the iphone even though we’ve both despised it forever. Our nokia and samsung respectively are FAR moer superior to the piece of crap that is the iphone. BUT because the Japs are shitheads about things, we cant use our awesome phones here and we hate our AU phone so we decided to get the iphone. Turns out, we waited for 9 hours. NINE HOURS to get the fucking phone but were denied because I wasn’t japanese or american. Yep, they wanted the whole shebang — passports and all.

WTF RIGHT???

They racial profile you when you wanna get an iphone. I was SO disgusted I almost died of a heart attack, no kidding my chest started to really pulsate in pain. We left at closing time and went back to base the next day to people who actually knew what they were doing.

ANOTHER reason to be pissed off at these worthless sacks of shit.

Curry.

I’ve been trying to bring him into the country for the longest time, even before we got here in preparation for his blood work and rabies vaccination. But here, nobody knows what they’re doing. The Jap airport people say he’s got days left for quarantine and the count down has started but the mlitary vet as thorough as she is, says that his countdown will only start when he enters japan.

WHICH MEANS HE IS IN PORTLAND FOR NOTHING?!

CLEARLY, some one doesnt know what they are doing.  And I don’t feel like letting my dog suffer for someone’s ignorance, which is probably the airport people’s fault because the person I spoke to could hardly speak english!

It never ceases to make me want to set the entire country on fire when I think about all these pertinent issues. But then I refrain from doing so because I dont wish to be raped in prison and also because I’m sure either good ol Kim or China will take care of Japan for me. Either way, I can’t wait to gtfo of here.

There are so many things I hate about this country and its people that a mere blog entry cannot pay enough tribute to my distaste. Mainly, I am disgusted that the Japanese put so much pride and money into useless inventions like a dancing robot.

It spins and twirls mechanically, dancing to a cacophony of jarring j-pop. One gets supremely bored looking at it after 2 minutes because the foolish little thing dances as much to TWO dancemoves. That litle shit would cost a buyer $800 usd.

WTF?

Seriously, nobody fucking cares about ridiculous inventions like these. Improving cellular phone coverage would be more appreciated and one think, worthy of the nominal fee paid.

Another lameass shit about them is their spectacular system of trash collection. They find it neccesary that their rubbish trucks sing a nonsensical little tune everytime they come around collecting trash. Which I’m certain its to signal to others to take out their trash, but quite useless in that most people work during the day anyway. See what I mean when I say Japan has a lot of useless shit.

ALSO.

This is a nation consumed by vanity.

EVERY toilet you go may not have toilet paper, clean floors, or even a workable flush so essential to the experience of relieving oneself. But I can guarantee you that they ALL have little vanity mirrors complete with make up stand of somesort for ladies to apply or touch up their make up at ease.

And they still look ugly most of the time?!

Makes you wonder how such a country gets by. Japanese women, with the exception of my friend Mizuho, Miyuki and others from the esteemed Keio and Waseda university, are so dumb they giggle incessantly when asked a mere question in english, whether it is out of sheer flightiness or embarrassment at not knowing the country. No wonder this nation is governed by men, and I can’t say they do an outstanding job really.

I am so sick of Japan really. And as much as I talk shit about America, that is one fucking awesome country I can never tire of. I never wanted to leave the country, even when I was bored at home doing nothing I was happy. Its true, having more space around you makes for a happier person

Singapore too, is amazing of course

NB: Please, I will only consider your views truly legit if you’ve LIVED in Japan for at least 6 months because tourists do NOT have a clue about this shithole and the absurdities that it encompasses. All they do is visit touristy places that obviously would cater to english speaking people with english train signs, english speaking mssage girls and the like. But try living in Japan and maybe you’ll see its not so fun afterall.