Sho-chu? I'll Show You.

Two drunken evenings in a row:

Last night at Katchi-Katchi with Ben and Seth and two students: A young Korean woman, who up and moved five years ago to Tokyo, and a man who just returned from America, where he spent two months working in California as a systems engineer. He told us all about strip clubs in America. She told us about her upcoming vacation in Bali. ("What will you do in Bali?" I asked. She answered, "Just stay in a hotel and relax.")

Three beers into the evening, I was toast---but not toast enough. At the end of the commute home with Ben, I walked into 7-11 and bought a can of Shu-Hi, the shochu drink that is designed to knock you on your ass--in a can. I drank it on the way home, which made Ben laugh. Drinking in the street is considered a God-given right by the Japanese. Along with spitting and peeing in public. For men, I mean. I bid Ben a drunken farewell and found myself, around midnight (remember, last train des'), on the phone with Dave. I don't remember much of the conversation. Around four a.m., I woke up, still in my work clothes, passed out in the middle of my apartment, half on and half off my half-folded futon. I managed to climb out of my work clothes and onto my futon for another six hours of sleep.

Tonight, I found myself in a little bar in Ginza, run by one of the students, Sutestsu (?). Three beers into the evening, I was toast. Ben, two students, April (who was in Kamakura last night), Jun, Yuko, and Akiko all sat in the tiny doorway of the bar and drank. The bartender, Kento, came out. He spent five years in New Jersey, and is fluent in English. It's strange--honto ni--to spend a night in Tokyo speaking English with Japanese people. It's strange that I can manage with little more than "honto ni?" and "ne?" and "sugoi!" and "kowaii!" and "kawaii!" and "nani?" and "daijobu des'." It's strange that everyone else seems to know more English than I will ever know Japanese.

I'm still a bit drunk.

Honto.

We missed last train des' from Asakusa, and took a takushi home, Ben, April and I. April and I left Ben and went to 7-11, where we loaded up on junk food and more shochu in a can. We came back and ate junk food and drank and talked.

I feel, somehow, as though these drunken evenings were some kind of bridge from a kind of dreamtime to realtime. I don't know if I can explain that, but I will try.

I feel so often as though I were dreaming my existence. And, yes, it's true that in Tokyo, I am often dreaming. Things are so unfamiliar and fleeting here. You know how you remember dreams as being so fragmented and striking? How they only make some kind of partial sense? That is my life here. Things are often fragmented and fleeting. So little makes sense. I am dreaming all the time...

Jun tonight sat across from me at the bar and did this crazy eye-contact thing. And I'm supposed, I suppose, to fall for it. But, honto, I just want to tell him: Honey, I'm immune. Honto. I spent my life as a fat chick, and I don't speak flirt. I don't want to do anything but tilt my head in confusion when he tries to pull me. (As he would slang it.) I don't even know enough to feel flattered. I just feel like saying to him: Um, Jun? Cut it out, mate. You're making a fool of yourself, ne?

And then there was a young man, Takeshi, who I always talk to and who gave me his name card tonight. Tomorrow he's leaving for Germany and I talked with him about his upcoming trip. He leaned over the counter and talked and talked, and I could see that he was trying to work up the courage to ask me out. I wondered if he'd find the courage, but--honto--I didn't/don't have the vocabulary to help him out. I didn't feel amused. I didn't feel embarrassed. Some part of me just sat back and watched thw whole event unfold. I wondered how I would react if he managed to ask me out. I wondered at my own inability to throw him a bone--so to speak. In the end, he couldn't bring himself to do it. So I gave him my email and told him to email me when he returned, in two weeks, from Germany.

On the train home, Ben and April talked. Ben made some comment about New Mexico's being too far away from a beach. I thought: Nani? Why does he know about New Mexico? Maybe I've talked about it...but certainly never in relation to beaches. Why has he been checking out New Mexico?

They circle, the boys do.

But all I can do is feel bad that I can't do more for them.

I'm blaming this entry on the shochu.