The Three W's

Before I address what exactly those are and WHY they hold any significance to this blog entry, I should note that I am almost completely hammered so this might not be as coherent as I imagine it. Granted, Microsoft word makes everything shiny for me and I am a decent drunk while writing but I am going to lose my trail of thought at least more than once (and considering my “draft” was just one paragraph of bitching about certain annoying things it means this is going to be a weird one).

Right. So first thing to address. I can has PHONE bitches! That grammatical mess was completely intentional but yeah, when our story last left off, Softbank had properly drilled me in the ass and then my Sim card Dealer couldn’t help me out. What was a poor chick to do? Why, go to the Softbank Company with someone who spoke a fair amount of Japanese..! I went with Jan-chan to the Softbank store two train stops away and they were like “We’ll give you a sim card, it’s free. You just have to pay for the 3000Yen Prepaid card.”

Uhm. Fucking deal?? I took that shit in a minute and once I got a functional phone I realized I only had one thought. I really REALLY wanted the Soft Bank “representatives” to return to our school. And I would calmly walk up to the one lady in the group and SMACK her as HARD as humanly possible with my FUNCTIONAL SOFTBANK Phone! Then I would move onto that fucking asshole guy and smack him TWICE with his Softbank logo, the fucking con artists..! To think I almost paid 2000 extra for a free sim card? Fuck that shit. I was cursing like an American by the time I left that store…wait until I see those bastards again…

But I digress. I got a phone and exchanged numbers with people and ignoring the back to back tests I had Thursday and Friday, all seemed to be well with the world. Well, with the exception of this ONE asshole mosquito in my room that ate the hell out of me in a half hour time slot. It got both of my arms, my leg, and it stung my fucking EYELID. What mosquito DOES that?? I woke up at midnight pissed and itchy and turned on the lights to see that motherfucker chilling against my wall. I pulled a Jon and palmed killed it.

Never have I been more satisfied.

Of course, this is ignoring that the damage had already been done, my left eye was beginning to swell, and I had to take a Benadryl so I didn’t scratch my skin off in my sleep. Fucking sugoi. But I made it through Thursday and onto Friday not quite sure what my day would have in store. Originally, Lip ring and I were going to Power Hour (possibly with Open Throat) and then work our drunken asses in the direction of a club. But then Lip Ring got herself into a movie/date with an (I guess) cute Japanese guy and she was all about bagging that. Oh Asian fetishes…but yeah, since she was all about that I wasn’t sure what my evening would consist of since S.S. doesn’t drink and I wasn’t sure if Tray-J would be down.

Like they would ever NOT be.

After a particularly grueling test and three hours of Japanese (the last hour spent making sensei laugh…I get muy kicks from that) everyone congregates at lunch and Tray-J go to me wondering what’s the plan. I love being the ringleader. Unfortunately, I’m a poor one on short notice and I’m not sure WHAT exactly we should do since Power Hour requires shot glasses and a good stomach (both of which I am lacking). We settle on karaoke being a good idea (because it’s been a week and change) and we get a group of willing singers. I can deal with spending a mere 1000en…because that’s all I’d be spending, right?

Oh no! What’s this? Is my vagina thinking for me again?!

Yeah, so around 6pm after three (AMAZING) episodes of Dexter (the sexy serial killer who I want to do) the gang gathers round. Its Germany, Tray-J, Open Throat, Fuji (guy), Blasian (guy), and Swiss(girl). Of course these are symbolic representations of their names. They don’t have Diva movie stars naming them, don’t even worry about that…! But it’s the gang of us and after making a deceiving Pepsi vodka Slushie mix (for a 100en which is basically a dollar) Open Throat recommends a place for us to eat. The good news? It’s a nomihodai. The bad news? Nomihodai (all you can drink) is 1000en…

…plus you have to order and pay for two meals.

Well, fuck, that’s about 1500en NOT including the potential karaoke that may follow. I wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about that but then my vagina kicked me in the jeans and said “Follow these mofo’s around…most testosterone you will see in months.”

Me: But Va-jay-jay they’re all Unavailable-

VJJ: I will make you bleed RIGHT NOW.

With a mumble and a grumble I followed my extremely irrational vagina and went with the gang to the Nomihodai restaurant. I had already had my fill of pepsi and vodka so getting food was a struggle but I found a salmon/teriyaki/bacon/cheese/hot sauce pizza and a rice ball for cheap so that was swell. As soon as we got there Open Throat started ragging on me cause I was bitching about the beer. I ignored the impulse to stab him with my chop sticks and he had a nice moment and ordered me an ichigo(strawberry) sour. Which I deplored. I decided to actually READ the Japanese and ordered a Rime sour (Lime Sour).

Absolutely Amazing. Where else in the god damn world am I going to get sour liquor? I fell in love with the drink after two sips. And the good food helped too. But Open throat puts me (and everyone else really) to shame when it comes to downing drinks. It’s like when you have Jon around food. You turn around for ONE second, that shit will be gone. He chugged those drinks likes it fucking water—no kidding, he would OWN during a flip cup FULL cup match. He is AMAZING slash secretly my idol slash it’s such a waste of a talent for a straight GUY to have (repeating myself).

Halfway through the meal (and after multiple glances at my phone) I finally go “fuck it” and call Kyle. I’ve been trying to call him for a week now but he NEVER picks up (slash it never rings). Tonight, it rings. Tonight, he picked up. I fell backwards in my seat, squealing like a school girl. Tipsy and in bubbly cheer, I ran barefoot out the karaoke (sober correction: restaurant) place to cry about how I missed his face (and him) and how I couldn’t wait to see him. I then noticed some of my group following me outside. I get confused but it turns out we’re leaving and for a minute Swiss was like, “You owe Open Throat 2000en.” I inwardly thought “I don’t owe him shit...!” but that’s because I’m a mentally crazed drinker. I catch up to the group of friends paying and thankfully (maybe) someone had dug in my wallet and fished out 2000en. Sweet. Somewhat. But we finished from Nomihodai (and call (Kyle) said he’d call me hungover manana) and we were at a good level of drunk and to my astonishment, we were going to do Karaoke. Oh shit, really?

Toki.Doki. Allow me to explain. We were going to karaoke, this is true. But Open’s throats friends were going to meet us there…and we were going to play Beer Pong at the karaoke place. Mad ghetto for the win…! We walk (literally) down the street to the karaoke place and so begins the festivities. It was a night of screaming System of a Down, Marilyn Manson, and Slipknot, all the while shaking it (on Open Throat’s demand) whenever Cali love came our way. It was fun (painful on the throat) and I met new Asian peoples.

[12 hours later and hungover]

(disclaimer:…hmm, so I fell asleep mid typing this entry but admittedly, it was pretty entertaining to read…though my rage/curse meter goes sky high when I’m fucked up out of my mind…and TokiDoki (sometimes/now&then) makes absolutely no sense in its context, I have no idea how I drunkenly justified that. I guess I’ll continue from where I left off though I don’t think it’ll be nearly as laughable, hahaha).

About halfway through Karaoke I noticed my purple lighter (which had been in circulation amongst the smokers) had gone M.I.A. I lost my drunken shit for two minutes because the lighter wasn’t exactly mine…? While living in Jon’s room for the summer I found a purple lighter with a red rose and I brought it with me to Nihon because I like to hold onto people through items (Kyle’s hoodie, Jam’s clothes, etc). So yes, bagging Jon’s lighter was me being as sentimental as humanly possible…and now it was gone. I searched the room then ran outside to see if the other smokers had taken it but no, they had their own 7/11 lighters…and laments apparently. And then I did that thing I do. You know, playing the role of the plotting but realistic 3rd person? I did that with the two other guys and it felt GREAT. I’m holding onto every guy/girl moment I get because once I return to the states those are going to be zero to nil haha…

That was fun for awhile but then it hit me the lighter was gone. And I was in a sad state…but I didn’t dwell too long on that as my maternal instincts switched on the moment I returned to the karaoke room. Germany doesn’t get fucked up but when he does, he gets fucked up. Unbeknownst to most he had vommed in a soda cup and he was trying to vom into a plastic cup; he looked quite ghastly..! But it wasn’t surprising since we DID just come from “all you can drink” and all he ate was chicken on a stick and some radish dish. If that had ended anything but shit show status I would have to work on my future child getting German genes…

Any who, I worked on trying to ease his “blahness” (since I’d had much practice in the summer) and after doing what I could, returned to my seat with the occasional worried glance to Germany. My other moments were spent on She Wolf (with Swiss), recording AJ (of the Tray-J) screaming Slip Knot with Open throat’s piping in and the BEST moment? Tray-J singing A whole new World and turning it into a metal song?

Fuck. YES.

Shame I didn’t record THAT moment…too caught up in my Tequila Tonic and then my poor man’s OJ and Vodka. I would come to regret those drinking choices much later. But before I go into THAT sad story..! We finished up at the karaoke place and went our separate ways…for the most part. Fuji, Tray-J, Germany and Swiss head home to catch last train and that leaves us with Open Throat, Blasian, and Open Throat’s three other friends.

Open Throat decides he’s not nearly fucked up enough to make the bike ride home and goes into a bar with his friend. I become slightly concerned (because I don’t want him riding into a parked car) and ask him if he should be doing that. He mumbles how it’ll be all great in the stumble fuck language and then a short dialogue ensues:

Him: This meal I had was great...!
Me: Oh? What was it?
Him: I have no idea…
Me: Wow that was helpful-
Him: You should get the same thing..!
Me: I don’t even know what it is.
Him: But its really good…
Me: So I should get it and pay for it…so YOU can eat it for me T_T”
Him: Kinda like that…hey *tells the bartender I want the same thing in Asian*
Me: What the fuck?! I don’t want to pay for that shit.
Him: You’ll pay half.
Me: I don’t even know what the FUCK I’m ordering T_T!! *watches the bartender deep fry SOMETHING*…*mental thought*…I’m going to smack him in his pretty god damn face. Pretty? WAAAAAY too much liquor-
*deep fried four dollar dish worth $2 in quantity arrives*
Me: Huh…*takes a chicken nugget thing which is actually like a mac&cheese bite from the cooler* …well fuck.
Him: Huh..Huuuuuuuh *knowing smile*.
Me: God damn it..okay, it’s kinda good. *eats yellow thing* Oh my fucking god, is this squid? YES. Okay, you win, it was worth it –why does alcohol make everyone around me pretty? *eats more to stop being distracted*

So I paid two dollars for half a plate worth of deep fried squid, a cheese bite, and zucchini fingers. It was worth it but my initial hesitation lied in the fact that I was eating FRIED food in an attempt to stave a potentially wicked hangover. And before that I had gotten a rice ball and a weird loaf of bread (which I would woefully come to find out contained massive amounts of cool whip) because Japan, though amazing, sucks. It SUCKS if you have a drinking lifestyle in Japan. Raw fish and seaweed is NOT going to hold any liquor. No, it is going to fucking LAUGH at you while coming up in the morning. Fuck drinking, far more importantly, fuck drinking in Japan! I’ll find another way to get my shits and giggles if all it comes down to is reality distortions and morning voms.

By the way, that was totally not a negative nancy moment. That was a reality check, byah! But we finish up at the bar, one of Open throat’s friends walk me home (more importantly, I had a moment of speaking Japanese automatically and correctly, what what?!) and my host mom is still awake. Aww…awake at 12:30 at night and waiting for me? She reminds me of my aunt with my cousins. She ushers me into the shower (because that’s really the first thing my drunk ass wants to do) and I shower all the while mumbling the earlier diatribe I started my (draft) blog with (which I won’t post for Just In Case reasonry). I passed out writing this…and then the morning.

OH the morning. I haven’t had a hangover THAT bad since…since graduation in May. And Kat saw me the night of graduation, she can vouch for how god damn drunk I was then. Needless to say, I was a LOT drunker than I thought I was and it came back to ream me in the face around 7am. I did the whole toilet thing but when that stopped working, I got the fuck over myself and used the trash can. And since I (stupidly) assumed there wouldn’t be ice in the house, I drank water and threw up some more…this process continued on (painfully) for three hours. Which is around when I decided I would have to tell host mom I couldn’t make it down for breakfast let alone eat a huge lunch.

I get downstairs and bump into host dad first. He laughs at my general state of disarray and asks if I had a little bit too much last night. Well, if he already knows, no point in lyin’. I nod my head miserably and he chuckles some more. Awesome. Though it really is, if I had a host child who got all willy-nilly fucked up and showed it in the morning, I’d laugh too. I then ask (with not much hope) if there was ice in the house.

Fucking DUH. Just because it LOOKS like the shire, doesn’t mean it IS the Shire. Host mom points me in the direction of the freezer (which is a silver draw below the fridge) and I could’ve pissed glass. I went through three hours of POINTLESS suffering because I am clearly an ignorant asshole T_T”! Gathering my bowl of ice, I escaped upstairs and began munching away at the hangover cure and now…now I feel LEGIT daijoubu. Not that “I’m going to say daijoubu so this bitch doesn’t realize I threw up in her shower, har har har.”

Wow, I’m never going to get over that. Huh. But phone calls from Blonde <3 and friends(?) aside, I must be on my merry way. I have friends to meet and text message plans to receive. Oh, and as for the three W’s (thought I forgot, huh)? The three W’s (which I craved all of last night) are Weed, Wine, and Whoa (which is not to be mistaken for YAY). Weed is a neveruary (a fucking actress had a press conference in tears cause she was caught smoking weed. First of all, where the fuck do you think you are? This is not the land of the free roaming cocaine snorting commando going bitches…I could not feel as bad as I should have, that was just stupid), wine would’ve been me still being hungover and Whoa requires a hotel.

The Three W’s? They’re my forbidden fruits for the next three months. Exciting loves, absolutely.