WYWS Edition
* April is an insanely busy time of year in Japan. It's the traditional end and/or beginning to all the boring economic and societal structures that fit inside a 12 month period (the fiscal year, the academic year, job tenures, passing of gallstones, etc.). I hoped to escape the insanity by feigning insanity; hiding under my desk, blowing bubbles with my spit and wearing old granny panties on my head. Alas, the ploy failed. I was soon dragged out by my bare ankles, and appointed as a homeroom teacher--swift punishment for my crazy insubordination.
Me.
A homeroom teacher. After months upon months of suspicion, with all the subtlety of a baptist minister sex scandal, it is clear that our school's higher ups have lost their goddamn marbles. I haven't been entirely thrilled with having been a teacher for the past year, so you can only imagine the four-letter vernacular ballet I've been perfecting the past week or so. From a hastily composed email sent the day I found out:
Kinda like...uhm...dating a girl for a while who you're kinda on the fence over, and then the night you're walking to her house to break up with her, she sends you an ecstatic text message announcing that she's pregnant. And moving in. And bringing her cats.
It's not the commitment that bothers me, it's the responsibility. Among other things. And yes, I'm aware that the two are one and the same. Shut up.
* April also marks the "falling man season." Similar to the bothersome rainy season that soaks June and July, graduation ceremonies are often emphatically punctuated by Japanese youth, so overjoyed to surrender their personal freedoms to the working Man, that they heave themselves from gymnasium roofs, and lecture hall balconies, in a massive, preemptive salaryman coup de tat. "Come for the celebration, stay for the police statement" they always say.
Ah, Spring in Japan...
* Old Mrs. Kobayashi is pissed. And extremely frail, apparently.
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3 contributions to this piece:
Go get 'em tiger.
You look so...studious...in that picture. Tweed doesn't suit you.
Ya know, you're lucky YOU weren't the one hurt in that little tango you had with the geriatric gnome. A woman at my mom's church was hit by an old guy and put in a coma for weeks.
Admittedly, he hit her and kept driving over her body cos he thought she was a speed bump he just couldn't get past, but you see my point. Old people shouldn't operate things with motors. Even those powered wheely chairs are dangerous. Have you SEEN those things at the mall? Fucking derby racers.
I figure if both parties are well enough to ride away from the scene, legal drama should be kept at a minimum.
Sure, there was an intersection, and a light that may or may not have been red, but she should have seen me coming. I've been running that light without consequence for months now.
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