Happy Birthday Andrea!

Saturday night we celebrated Andrea’s birthday in style at an amazing dining hall called Christon Café. Then after a quick stop off at home & a few sneaky chu-hi’s we headed to the best night club in Tokyo. I forget the name of it, but I totally recommend it because the barman is totes hot and if you hassle him all night he’ll reward you with many free Cosmopolitan’s and his phone number.



Photo's courtesy of Sandy's Keitai

Terrifyingly Sexy

As promised, I celebrated Halloween with a bunch of the sexiest girls in Tokyo. Naomi (aka Batgirl), Sandy (Hot Vampire), Christal (The Sexy Texan), Hallie (Japanese Schoolgirl), Andrea (Cowgirl), Chris (Dirty Pimp) and Me (Puss-in-boots). We haunted allegedly the largest club in Asia - AGEHA, and we had a disturbingly wicked time. This nightclub holds up to 3000 people so we inevitably spend the majority of the night trying to find each other, but meeting some crazy people along the way. The club boasts a dangerous pool area, with hundreds of people crowed around the pool, I couldn't help but push some random bloke in. I’m sure he enjoyed his quick dip. They are a bit strict on the old rules though and we were not allowed to take cameras in so here are some before pics (note: my lack of costume, I picked it up when I got there).






This was some random bloke called Daisuke that we met on the train, I think he was a little bit scared - "Ageha Ikimashou"



Yes, apart from being devistatingly sexy, we are also a bunch of posers.

Kyoto for Rockstars

After being in Japan for over 6 months, Andrew and I thought that it was about time that we experienced some true Japanese culture. We felt that we had grown up a lot in 6 months. The number of all-nighters pulled in a week was in dramatic decline and we were starting to appreciate the finer things in Tokyo, we had once even come dangerously close to entering a museum. What better place to celebrate our new-found adulthood than the cultural capital of Japan, Kyoto.



Feeling incredibly proud of ourselves that we had managed to organise a holiday for two we met in Tokyo station at 11am on Tuesday. We were thrilled to be finally catching the much talked about Shinkansen or Bullet Train. This baby would arrive us in Kyoto a mere 3 hours later. Waiting for the train, our hearts filled with hope and adventure, we dubbed this trip our Journey of Self-Discovery. A quick inventory check: Hopes, ideals, maps, mobiles, clothing, accessories, credit cards, itinerary and 2 return Shinkansen tickets. On second thought we had a whole 3 hours on this thing. We better get a beer. Or two. Ok, get three. Yeah, may as well get four. So on we hopped with a six-pack each. It’s a holiday after all. We didn’t have to feel guilty about being drunk before lunch.

They were right, that train does go very fast. It’s a little bit blurry too.



Once in Kyoto we stepped off the train and fell over giggling before standing back up again and surprisingly finding our hotel, for the next two days we admired many temples and appreciated many bars. Probably more bars than temples actually.





On the fourth day of our journey of self-discovery I woke up unnaturally early with the distinct feeling that there was something missing in my life. A mental checklist revealed many things; morals, maturity, self-control, money, tact and 2 return Shinkansen tickets to Tokyo. After careful collaboration we came to the conclusion that we had misplaced many of these things in Kyoto in our drunken stupor.



Begging and fake crying at the train station ticket office provided no love. Our beloved Shinkansen tickets were not going to be re-issued. Our options were two; a) pay $120 each for new Shinkansen tickets or b) pay $60 each for an 8-hour bus ride back to Tokyo. A quick review of our financial situation found us racing for the bus stop. Determined to find positive in our hideous situation, we decided that the bus journey would give us ample opportunity to take a good hard look at ourselves. The 8 hours provided many realisations, but predominantly that perhaps we are not responsible enough to go on holiday, especially together.



For a more detailed account of our Kyoto trip, check out Andrew's Blog.

House Party

Saturday night we kick started our Halloween festivities by attending a house party of a friend of a friends. When you say “house party” in Japan one might conjure up images of a small gathering including wine and nibblies in a tiny studio apartment. We rocked up expecting to meet 5 other people and be sat around a table discussing the state of our modern lives. Our eyes lit up when we got to the door to find at least 100 other pairs of shoes. Inside there were people wall to wall. We managed to squeeze our way through to find a sweet spot on the balcony. The details of the night get a little sketchy after this point. But I do recall telling the most convoluted bullshit story to some poor innocent J-girl who listened and nodded in all the right places. “I do miss my 4 horses I keep at home in England but my husband and I are loving Japan”, “yes, we met at law school”, “I know, we do look young to be able to afford such a huge mansion in the country but my parents are rich”, “yes, that's Naomi, she was my bridesmaid”, “yeah a beautiful coral taffeta dress”. We thought we had given away the game after we told her that Naomi doesn't speak much English, she’s Dutch. The girl instantly starts speaking to Naomi in Dutch. “aah, eer did I say Dutch? I meant Deutch”. I vaguely remember this cute J-boy that I fed some more bollocks to. “How old are you?”, “19? Really? Me too!” Apparently I was quite taken with him because the next day I found about 15 photos of us on my camera. Anyhow, the party was so cool I think I actually enjoyed my hang-over at work on Sunday. We will be continuing our Halloween stint at the biggest nite-club in Asia this Saturday night. I’m going all out with the costume and wearing some clip on cat ears. I can’t help being poverty stricken. It will be hot anyhow.

New BFF

Niall Gallen recently took poll position as my BFF (best friend forever) when he came to visit me last week. Moving to a foreign country, every man and his dog promise to come visit you, but Niall actually came up with the goods and it was wicked to see him! I thought that it was important that he experience some pure Japanese culture, so I took him shopping in Shibuya, Akihabara and Harajuku and to a traditional “British Pub” near my house.

Happy Birthday Sandy!

Wednesday was Sandy's birthday. So to celebrate the birthday of one of the coolest chicks in Japan, we headed to the local. In our cozy little local we met up with our newest family member, "Ohno". Ohno, is officially our Japanese father and our "in case of emergency contact" in Japan. The fact that he can't speak a lick of English may hinder the contacting part during the emergency but hopefully he'll have his handy translating side-kick with him. Sandy got the full treatment for her birthday and we got to experience true Japanese hospitality. We were given all the food and drink we could consume and then some. Then after that he took us to Karaoke where we received more food and drink and endless entertainment. Sandy got birthday cake and flowers and the works! Anyhow, as you can see in the following photographs, I think I'm turning Japanese. The similarity is uncanny, it's not entirely impossible that Ohno could be mistaken for my real father.

Tokyo living

It’s true. I am officially a Tokyo-ite. Last Saturday I moved into a brand spanking new apartment in Õji with two of the most fabulous girls in Japan and it is wicked. First things first, we found our local and it is dangerously close to our house. It’s a gorgeous little pub that holds 10 people when pushed to capacity. This pub is our new favourite place and in it we feel completely at home. It could be the fact that the décor is reminiscent of my nana’s living room or the lone old barman who wears a permanent cheeky grin or that we are always welcomed by our new best mate affectionately dubbed “Oji-san” meaning grandpa. He buys us drinks and shares his cigarettes with us, sings us songs and is currently organising a birthday party for Sandy. Our new local is also our new source of Japanese lessons. No one speaks English so we get to try out all our incredibly poor Japanese. It’s so exciting when they understand because most of the time they just look at us bemused.

I haven’t written for a while, and since I have the attention span of a goldfish I have forgotten what I have done in the last few weeks. And since I have been too busy to scratch myself, I forgot to report my encounter with the Prime Minister of Japan. Mr. Koizumi made a visit to my little town before the recent election, clearly because he had heard that I would be there. I witnessed his speech and it looked great, loaded with emotion, passion and vigor. Unfortunately for me it was in Japanese, so I have no idea what he was banging on about. But it looked interesting. I mostly just wanted to see if he really did look like Richard Gere as he believes he does. Rumour has it that he even dyes his hair grey for greater effect. I found these photos of the dashing duo on the internet so draw your own conclusions.

Taiko

I have always thought that I should have a hobby, but apart from boozing at the local, nothing has tickled my fancy… until now. I have recently discovered my recreation destiny. Taiko is a type of traditional Japanese drumming, historically used to summon the spirits for fortune, strength and harmony. I don't know about that bollocks, but they do sound amazing and it is the most powerful and moving sound that I have ever heard. The other day I was walking home when I heard thunderous beats coming from a nearby park. I was instantly drawn to it. When I got there, I saw a group of about 10 people with these massive drums. Taiko combines drumming with dance so just watching the amount of energy put into it made me tired. Anyhow, Taiko is probably one of the coolest things I have seen in Japan so far, so here is a link to hear the most energetic and powerful music I have ever heard . Taiko rocks.

Black Eyed Peas

Last week I went to see the coolest gig in Tokyo, and it rocked my world. I’m physically unable to get ready for work in the morning without hearing Black Eyed Peas at full volume, so seeing them live really was amazing. Plus it gave my next-door-neighbor a break from hearing them.



and here is me being a total poser getting ready for the gig:

Narita-san

Because this blog is starting to resemble a soap opera, I'm including some photos of a recent trip to a temple near my home to prove I can do something wholesome. The temple is called Narita-san and it is incredibly beautiful, peaceful and relaxing. My favorate part is the pond near the entrance that is swamped with turtles. There is seriously an island of turtles in the middle. Kawaii desu yo!

Tragic Date

This post holds no comical value what-so-ever so wipe that smirk off your face. In fact posting this is probably in incredibly poor taste but it is important that you know my life isn’t always hilarious piss-ups, glamour and gaieties.

My modern life took a tragic turn for the worse the other night. I was on possibly the best date of my life when disaster struck. I managed to snag myself a fabulously sexy, tall, English speaking J-boy, a rarity to say the least. This boy was either the coolest person in the world or the world’s most creative liar. He lived in England for a year as a semi-professional football player. Did home stay with a family who’s father plays keyboards for Death in Vegas. He is the singer in a rock band and studies law at Tokyo University. He is also hilariously funny, forward and unlike any J-man I have ever met. Things were going famously, until he received a call from his best friends mother informing him that his best friend had just had a car accident and was in hospital. Naturally he left. I received a message from him the next morning telling me that his best friend had in fact died last night and he can’t see me anymore as I would always remind him of the night his best friend died. At first I thought it was an elaborate and sick ploy to end our budding relationship but unfortunately I read the story in the newspaper.

Of course the real tragedy in this sorry tale is the fact that the sexy mans friend died. But I can’t help but wonder whether it’s all just a cruel joke that god played on me. A story this horrific is more than just bad luck. Is it possible that I am cursed? Am I destined for a life of horrible misfortune? Is my life just a tragic wasteland? Answers to these questions and more in future instalments of ‘Confessions of a Boozehag’.

New Boyfriend (revised II)

I have a Nihongo lesson tomorrow morning so I’m procrastinating and writing this instead. I’m shit anyhow.

Last Monday night I went on a hot date with a J-boy. I met this boy at a fireworks festival a couple of weeks ago when he saved me from some drunk J-bloke with a huge golden mullet & massive tattooed arms. I thought he was the sweetest because he was my translator for the evening. I must have been pretty tipsy myself because I’d actually forgotten what he looked like and grossly over-estimated his English ability. I discovered on Monday night that my new boyfriend in fact can not speak a lick of English. He took me to a really lovely restaurant however the romance seemed to slip away when we had to communicate through a pad, pencil and a dictionary. Never-the-less, it was a beautiful evening. I taught him a word or two and he bought me dinner and insisted on meeting up again soon. He drove me home in his big white van (apparently all the sexy boys have one) and I said goodnight with a cute kiss on the cheek (which was received timidly to say the least). On Tuesday I learnt from my students and staff that a simple kiss on the cheek in Japan has a far deeper meaning than “goodnight”. Because Japan is Japan and insists on confusing me at every opportunity, a kiss on the cheek means that you really love someone and is not taken (or given) lightly. So needless to say I wont be seeing him again! Ah, I’m sure there are more tall, straight teethed, perfect faced boys in Japan… second thought, maybe I’ll text him.

Its lucky that I have this blog to keep track of all my boyfriends.

Print Club

Clearly, the hottest place in Japan is print club. Print club's are arcades filled with glamour photo booths. The light in these booths can make even the dullest person look attractive, so imagine what happens when two people as hot as Andrew and I get in. The result is pure sex. On Wednesday night we were lucky enough to find a booth with a blow fan and it doesnt get any hotter than that. We spent about an hour in there being total posers and getting a plethora of photo stickers to stick anywhere that needs brightening up with our sexiness. Wednesday night also involved other saucy escapades in elevators and ridiculous McDonalds stunts however I am too lazy to write about them. You can check Andrew's sexy blog The mean/sexy streets of Japan for further dirt.

Sexy Bitches

On Monday night I went out with my most fabulous sexy girlfriends. Naomi, Sandy, Andrea, Ange, Stevie and I took Tokyo by storm and frequented our favourite club. It is our favourite club not only because on Monday nights is it free for women to enter but it is also free to drink for the entire night. What is funny about this is that it costs ¥4,000 for men to enter but there is still more men there than women. Loves et. Anyway, us sexy bitches got invited into the VIP section by some twat named "Tadd" (Todd with a gay American accent). We were there for about 5 minutes when I got kicked back out again by smashing a glass of posh Vodka and cranberry all over the floor. There is a reason they only let very important people in that area. Only very important people should be allowed to have glass tumblers as apposed to the poxy plastic ones us commoners get. Anyhow, VIP's are boring and sexy German backpackers are way more fun so they did me a favour.


After leaving the club Naomi and I hopped onto our hot new vehicle and headed with our new found German friend to meet some crazy French bloke who looked exactly like Robbie Williams who took us to a freaky Turkish club which we walked straight back out of. Anyhow, the wicked night was followed by an even more fantastic day because Naomi and I went to inspect our brand new apartment in TOKYO that we will be moving into next month! I can't wait!

Sumimasen?

Life in Japan can be tough. I have no idea what I am buying at the supermarket, I need a picture menu in a restaurant, I cant read my phone bill, I cant understand the loudspeaker alerts at the train station, watching TV is exactly that, strictly watching, I often need help using a cash machine, I have no bargaining power anywhere so it’s difficult to talk my way out of an expensive bill at a karaoke joint (would have been handy last night) and I’m growing my hair because a trip to the hairdressers is simply too stressful for me.

Ever had the feeling your being watched? Get on a train in Japan. They have a talent for staring. I find myself nervously checking for food on my face or a massive booger hanging out my nose. I sit there and pretend not to notice two school girls pissing themselves laughing looking in my direction, I ignore the salary men’s disgusted glances and I pretend to comprehend what the nutty old lady next to me is babbling on about.

I have developed a successful tool to compensate for all this torment. I know I sure as hell can’t understand them, but the plus side is: they don't understand me either. It is for this reason I have lost any inner monologue. Its not uncommon to have a full debate with a mate about whether the man sitting across from us on the train is good looking or not, whether we like the J-girls shoes, whether the salary man is unconscious from excessive consumption of sake or just taking a quick snooze. It’s fine to get stopped by the staff walking into a karaoke place with two bags of McDonalds “No bring food”. They stand patiently while we discuss our plan “Shit, you can’t take food in. Do you wanna just walk out and stuff it down our pants and then go back in?” which we do successfully. There is a somewhat infamous student at my school who creeps everyone out by blurting out random words about prostitutes, then scratching at his head and licking at his fingers. A colleague walked into the class-room the other day and said “put the dictionary away cunt” sending me into hysterics. The name on my train pass is Booze Hag, my mate is Captain Bastard and Chris has come up with the best so far with Cunty McTwatface. I’m going to get home to Australia and get punched in the face from comments like “Doesn't that women next to you look like an old slapper in that dress?” or arrested “this place sucks, what do you want to steal?”

Andrew and I like to play a game on the train, its called find the fittest bloke on the train to sit next to. When sober this can be done quite conspicuously, not so when coming home from the pub. We played it the other night, we stepped on the train and both of us ran for the same guy, nearly landing on his lap and squeezed in on either side of him pissing ourselves laughing leaving the poor bastard no space and feeling incredibly uncomfortable. After two minutes of putting up with our continued hysterics he got up and moved seats and we collapsed on the floor. It beats me why Japanese people hate gaijin so much.

Smurf Sized

For reasons unknown to me, Japan lives in miniature. People are pint sized. I have never ever felt tall in my life, until I came to Japan. In Japan I am a giant. Some of the women here are so tiny their waists are smaller than one of my thighs. I cant help but wonder where they keep their organs. Apparently they don't need much food either since everything comes in Smurf sized amounts. You can buy half a sandwich, they fill a thimble when you ask for a small coffee, a bottle of orange juice is almost a mouthful, you don't need a spoon for a tub of yoghurt, potatoes come in packs of 3 wrapped in 3 layers of plastic and you buy your bread in loaves of 3, 6 or 8 slices with the crust pre-removed (clearly the reason why no-one in Japan has curly hair).

Shit. Not her again

Last night it was summer party night at my favourite izakaya in Shizu. It’s my favourite not because they serve raw whale and raw horsemeat but because they let me do whatever I want there. They speak no English at all so I usually get away with stuff with a blank stare while they talk at me in Japanese. Last night I had my new second best friend there to translate for me. She said that they remember me and my antics very well, and that they were aware that I stole one of their hello kitty dolls on my last visit. I reassured them that she has a good home now and that we had given her a new identity. Her friends now refer to her as Michelle and when she is old enough to ask where she came from then I will take her back for a visit. Summer party night rocked. Their first mistake was to offer $15 all you drink and all you can eat Sashimi. Their second mistake was to decorate outside the entrance with an inflatable baby pool and water bombs. As people were leaving the pub they would giggle at the display and pretend they were going to throw one. I think the water bombs were meant for outside, but we were inside, so I brought one in and aimed up a couple in the corner but Chris caught me and diverted my attention to him. My aim was perfect. I hit him directly between the eyes and soaked him. If you were in a pub in Australia and you threw a water bomb at someone they wouldn’t ask any questions, they would just kick you out. Not Japan. Instead of “get that idiot out of here”, the staff immediately produced a bunch of towels and proceeded to dry Chris down. Then they gave me a present for my efforts – my own little water bomb kit.

Last night I also managed to try out my new line. When I hear the negative response to my old pick up line “Do you understand English?” I now know “Do you want me to teach you English?” It’s perfect for a gaijin girl like myself. Both of these stellar lines failed last night on the cute waiter, I had to go one step further and ask “can you teach me Japanese” to which he replied “anata wa nihongo ga joozu desu" (your Japanese is already good). Bugger et.

New Boyfriend (revised)

It wasn’t working out with the old guy with J-teeth so I had to ditch him. It was for the best, we were growing apart. We left on good terms and will hopefully remain good friends and casual sex partners. He took it pretty hard, but who can blame him. I did the only decent thing and told him it wasn’t him it was me and his J-teeth weren’t doing it for me anymore. I’m pretty devoed about the whole thing, but it was beautiful while it lasted. It’s better to have loved and lost.

So now, after an appropriate grieving period, I have a new new boyfriend. It was a beautiful chance encounter and it was love at first sight. I went out to Karaoke with a group of people on Sunday night, my next-door neighbour Andrea and I were getting a little restless confined to the one room so we decided to venture into other peoples rooms. We crashed my boyfriend’s room, I landed on his lap and sparks flew. We spent the evening deep in conversation contemplating the state of the modern world. We gazed into each other’s eyes and dedicated love songs to each other. Unfortunately he doesn't have J-teeth, but he does have a wicked car his parents bought him. After a night dreams are made of and that only Mills and Boon could reproduce, he gave me, and all my mates a lift home in his pimped out ride. It couldn't have been more perfect, he had a lowered minivan and I had 7 friends. Coincidence much? I can tell that this is the beginning of a long and beautiful relationship.

Fine then. He doesn't actually know that he is my new boyfriend. He can’t speak a lick of English. I can’t speak Japanese. We communicated through a few random words and had tickle fights. But the rest is true. And I like the first story better.