Naive no more!

A bit about me first:

I'm young, and hadn't had too many relationships (2 to be exact) and you could
say I was naive, probably crossing over the line of outright stupidity.

Just got to college, and was hanging out with a friend from high school when
a cute boy walks in, introduces himself and asks if we like trance cause he's a
dj. (I like trance.) But I forgot about it for about a month until
he randomly IMed me and asked if I still wanted his mix cd. So I went
over...and we talked for hours and he seemed so nice and warm and
caring and cute. And then it was suddenly 2 in the morning. And, I
am a very "cuddly" person, in that if I feel like I can trust you, I
have no problem with just grabbing your arm and leaning on your
shoulder for an hour or two. And so I asked if he would cuddle with
me. And he did...until 6 when I got ready for class. And sometime
around when he's asleep and I'm playing with his hair, I realize that
I really like him. This is bad, because he has a girlfriend. But through
a series of mental gymnastics, I convince myself that it's okay to be with
him (complete with periods of extreme guilt where I try to break it off, but
can't because I have no willpower, and I just like him so much, and that
can't be wrong, can it?)

So for about six months I see him on and off. All the
warning signs are there, he's always busy, he doesn't tell me much
about himself or his friends, he has a fucking girlfriend for fuck's
sake, he says he'll see me and then backs out. But I'm not paying
attention.

Until Valentine's Day (ah irony) when my best friend feels
like she can't keep secrets from me anymore and tells me she's been
seeing him too. At which point I break it off. And then I start
reexamining the entire charade, and realize that there was at least
one other girl for sure, and likely a few others. And that hurts, but
I tell myself it shouldn't because he never made any promises that it
was going to be only me, so I just keep telling myself not to be sad or
angry, and eventually I make my peace with that, however, in the process
of reexamining, I also find that he'd been lying to me about almost everything
else. And that is what pretty much crushes me because I trusted him absolutely
and told him things I'd never told anyone else, did things with him that I had
never done with anybody else because I felt safe, and that safety was
a lie. Everything I thought I'd known about him and his motives
suddenly became radically uncertain and a good portion of my memories
of the last six months got condemned.

Cue the depression.

I consider cutting myself again, something I haven't done in 2 years, so I don't
have to feel betrayed and hurt and ashamed at being so astonishingly
stupid. After about a month, I got out of that, and now I'm just
pissed. Because I understand now that I was less than nothing to him,
my only value was that I was so easily controlled, and I gave him that
control because I trusted him not to hurt me. And I know he's hurt other people too, and
will continue to hurt them, just because he can.

While I was depressed over spring break, I wrote a postcard to him, anonymously,
that said, "I remember every word you spoke and every time you touched
me. I think about it every day and every time I do, I want to hurt
myself." I left it in a book in the seat pocket of my flight back
home. At the time, I think I hoped that one day he'd get it and feel
bad. But now I realize that even if he got it, he wouldn't be sorry.
He doesn't have that much of a soul. Now, I don't want to hurt myself
anymore, but I struggled with the desire for revenge for a while. I'm
done with that too, now, but even so, I hate him, and (since I'm an
atheist and don't believe in hell) I hope he dies alone, abandoned by
everyone who once cared for him, left with only broken dreams and
memories of joys that all turned to ashes and despair. Which is a
horrible thought, but it's how I feel.

Thanks for listening.

~Posted by Danielle in Wisconsin

Lost In Translation

I love Japan. Nope. I loved Japan. Better. I loved “Lost in Translation” to where I’d watch the movie repeatedly on my frequent flights to Japan. Why you ask? Japan is just as Bill Murray pondered – Do you love it? Are you simply fascinated by it? Or, is it possible, that you could hate it?

I arrived in Japan late on Sunday, spending better than two hours trying to clear customs. Hum, a little racial bias here. The resident lines were non-existent at Immigration. The Visitors line wrapped around every corner that was found or created around trash cans. Sheyt. An hour into the line and finally I reach the “1 hour from here” spot. After clearing customs, I hop onto the train for the long ride into Tokyo. Cough. Hum, I wonder where that’s coming from.

Now, I love sushi. Not the crap that we’re sold in California – but really, honest, simple fresh ‘cause it was alive 10 seconds ago sushi. So, out to dinner to what is the hottest sushi bar in Tokyo. WTF! California roll? Since when do the Japanese even know what an avocado is? Cough. Cough. Hum?

Two Sonata’s and five hours later, up at 5am for an 18 hour day of business. Cough..cough..cough. Hum, maybe I need something (cough) for this cou…(cough) of mine. After the first meeting, I’m thinking I’ll run to the store.

Meeting #1…cough…cough…sweat…choke. Ok, in Japan, you don’t blow your nose at the table. It’s rude. I wonder about coughing crap across the table at your business partner? I wonder if his moving down the table is a sign I’ve fucked up?

Into a drug store. I point at my lungs… Sheeyt, the girl looks at me if I’m some sort of perv. No, not boobs, that’s on the “pink floor”, I need Sudafed! “No Sudafed. Take this powder”. Ok, what looks like a bag of coke is handed to me. I toss it into a glass of water and swear to god, this is the worst tasting stuff ever. Cough..cough..choke…puke.

More meetings. Least said the better. Let’s put it this way, relations between the US and Japan have just been set back…way back. I’ve redefined the “Ugly American” stereotype.

Over dinner, I actually did the reverse of a neat trick I once did at Benihanna. Once they flicked a shrimp into my mouth off the table. Cool. This time, I coughed a shrimp onto the table. Cool, eh?

The next day was worse. I begged the drug store for something, anything. WTF – Vicks, the good ‘ol stuff mom rubbed on our chests when we were kids – it’s a drug in Japan. Yep. A controlled substance! Seems as if the Japanese view cold medicines as drugs – they have, ooh, do I dare say it, amphetamines in trace amounts.

At this point, imagine this guy, coughing to where he can’t even get more than a word or two out at a time, literally dripping from sweat, begging for the druggist to put him out of his misery. He looks me over, turns, pulls a box from the shelf, and whispers – Codeine. Codeine, over the counter…I’m thinking…hum…YEA BABY, now we’re talking. How many can you give me? A hundred yen, or about ten bucks later, and 90 codeine at hand, I’m ready to zone out and sleep. So, I take one. Nothing. Sheyt. Take two… Nothing. I throw on clothes, find the hotel assistant manager who reads the instructions. “Take three every four hours”..but, he said, that’s for Japanese. “Maybe take four or five every hour”. Hum, suddenly I am not so excited about 90 codeine. I’ll go through those in one night. And, I did.

Here’s the bizarre thing – codeine is over the counter in Japan. And, the package even has instructions for children under the age of one. I’ve come to the conclusion that since most Japanese sleep on the trains and subways, that the entire country is bombed out of their fucking mind on codeine. Must explain why all those hot young Japanese girls are hanging old with old wrinkly grey haired guys. It’s a culture based upon being drugged and never seeing what’s before you.

I told you that story to tell you this. I hate Japan. Japan sucks. Lost in Translation sucks.

When an American goes to Japan, we get sucked into what we believe is fascinating and just love it…every minute. Well, do this, get sick in Japan. Don’t bring that Sudafed, ‘cause if Customs finds it, you’re a drug smuggler. Get sick. Try to find a cold med in Japan. If you can find something that works, hey, you’re better than me. Spend a night in the shower coughing up crap ‘cause they have nothing you can buy. See if you still love Japan.

In retrospect, I now know why the Japanese wear those fucking masks everywhere. It’s a national secret, there are no cold medicines in Japan. None whatsoever. Therefore, wear a mask. It’s that or die from the common cold.

~Posted by Ed in Fresno, CA.