My I'm-an-Asshole Social Commentary

And I don't mean the bumbling idiot kind of asshole; I mean the conniving, bitchy-girl kind. Because I am about to kill off my first potential webfriendship. The only proof I have that someone besides Bob is reading!!! Yesterday I wrote about Phil Collins being the Antichrist. Just after I wrote that entry, I received a comment from a Stacey, saying, "I don't know why, but there is just something magical about Phil Collins and Peter Gabriel. I like them more now that I'm in my twenties than I did when I was younger." Immediately I am suspect. Unless this Stacey is talking about the dark magic that all members of the band Genesis possess, we are definitely coming from different places on this issue.
So then I checked out Stacey's profile, and her blog. Interesting...kind of nice...she is in love with an older man...she is asking people for $3 each until she collects a million to support her dream of spending every second of her time with this man. She's even writing thank you notes. Ambitious. Kind of like that guy who traded up on the red paper clip. For anyone who is interested, definitely check out her blog. It is full of rampant optimism and sweepstakes winnings.
And therein lies the problem: this rampant optimism. Even though there are seemingly kind people donating to Stacey, and everyone is leaving comments applauding this great love story, these soulmates, I'm just not buying the idea that receiving donations so you can spend every waking second with your soulmate will ultimately equal happiness. What about responsibility? What about making some kind of contribution to the world? What about doing something with your life other that sitting back and letting other people pay your way? It's true, $3 is a small contribution that anyone could make. But why would anyone donate to this cause instead of UNICEF or helping out someone in Indonesia after the bazillion earthquakes it had this year? Stacey mentions on her site that she has written letters to a handful of billionaires, including Bill Gates, telling them about her dream. But here's the thing Stacey, Bill Gates is using his money to try to end malaria and AIDS. As far as I know, he's not just handing it out to freeloaders.
Am I being too judgemental of Stacey? Probably. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm probably not too open to the idea of soulmates right now. And the fact that she finds Phil Collins magical didn't exactly start our friendship off in the right direction either. Who knows, maybe someone will check out her blog, and donate enough money to Stacey to make all her dreams come true. It'd be nice. But for me, I'd rather make myself a pauper giving everything to help people who need it than get ripped off by some folks asking for a few bucks so they can do nothing with the rest of their lives.

Phil Collins is the Antichrist

It's not enough that I was tortured throughout high school by a Genesis both with and without Peter Gabriel. Or that his songs have hauntingly followed me around with their overly cheerful horn sections. Dammit, "Easy Lover" was just foreshadowing the impending doom: (s)he'll take your heart but you won't feel it...before you know it you'll be on your knees.

Elevator Eavesdrop

"...alls I'm sayin is that it's kinda wierd when yer boyfriend goes out and buys a $1000 machine gun. And he don't even go huntin!"

Karaoke Top 5

Okay I'll admit it. I like karaoke. A lot. Especially when I'm drunk. I first tried singing karaoke in Austin at a little Korean place off Airport with Mike and Henry. Embarassingly, there were both Malibu and Mettalica involved. After that I really didn't want to touch it, especially after being bombarded with it in Asia. It seemed to me that that was all anyone ever did in Taiwan. That and shopping. So I avoided it until one night in Tokyo. We went to an all-night place in Ikebukuro and tore it up till about 4am. It was raining and they gave us souvenir umbrellas cause we spent so much money there. After that I was hooked. I found myself practicing in the shower, trying to think up cool songs to sing in front of my friends and be stupid. And it's even worse now that I have a car. My car has always been by little sanctuary away from everyone. I always sang in my car. But now, it is my practice room for karaoke (even though no one may ever be able to tell I practice.) So here they are, my top 5 lists for karaoke:

Top 5 Most Embarassing Songs I have Sung for Karaoke:
5. "Mamma Mia" by ABBA ~ sung with dance moves with coworkers.
4. "You're the One that I Want" from the Grease Soundtrack ~ it is impossible to sing this well after 3 mini-bottles of sake, and by yourself.
3. "Okie from Muskogee" by Merle Haggard ~ country music is lost on the Japanese.
2. "Video Killed the Radio Star" by the Buggles ~ sung in a fake robotic voice.
1. "Sister Christian" by Night Ranger ~ sung in a duet with Chris Deaner.

Top 5 Songs I Dream of Singing for Karaoke:
5. "Don't Stop Believin'" by Journey
4. The theme song from "Time Bokan" ~ the beginning AND ending theme are badass!
3. "Swamp" by the Talking Heads
2. "My Boyfriend's Learning Karate" by the Headcoatees
1. "Stand by Your Man" by Tammy Wynette

My brush with greatness

I was just talking with Chris about our rockstar friends in Tokyo. They've got this band Seagulls Screaming Kiss Her Kiss Her, and they totally rock. Nao, the girl on the left used to live in my neighborhood, and she and her husband are really nice. I was introduced to them just after I got to Tokyo when Chris came to visit. Nao was really friendly, and totally floored me when she told me about touring with the John Spencer Blues Explosion. I felt so effin cool!!! Here I was one degree away from John Spencer! I imagined me hanging out in the limelight, having beer and sake with other rockstars in Japan. It was like a dream come true, until I ruined it.
I went to Taiwan that spring for Spring Scream. Right in the middle of the SARS scare. I don't remember big chunks of that Spring Scream, but I do know that I slept on a sidewalk. Damn! When I got back I suddenly got really really sick. I felt kinda tired, and then as I went to sleep, I started shaking uncontrollably and all my muscles hurt. T. called up our massuese friend, who told him to spray me down with cold water. I felt like an elephant at the circus. I got to sleep, but couldn't go to work the next day, my birthday, because I still felt a lot of pain in my muscles. Kris and Aaron called me to wish me a happy birthday that morning. I was so excited I started to feel a lot better. So T. went shopping to get ready for a birthday party we had planned, and was gone all day. Then the sickness came back, and I knew I had to go see a doctor. I didn't know anyone in Tokyo, and all of T.'s bandmates weren't answering their phones. So I did what I had to do, I called up my new friend Nao, and embarrassingly asked her to help me go to the doctor. She was not too happy. It was a Saturday, the first day of the year it wasn't freezing outside, and she had to translate for some foreign chick who probably had a cold. I remember putting on clothes was so hard. Fuck wearing a bra. I walked about 10 minutes to the doctor's office where Nao met me and got really worried because I looked really bad. We went in there and I had a temperature of 39 or so (think about 104) and they rushed me into the doctor. I tried my best in shitty Japanese to talk with the doctor, but poor Nao had to do a lot of translating. Then I head her say something like "...well, they don't really do that in America," and I got really nervous. Nao told me they would give me some medicine I wouldn't like, but it would make me feel better. Then the nurse came over, flashed a big grin, and said "We're going to give you asshole medicine!" And I got a pocketful of anal suppositories.
Even in the delirium of a 104 fever, I knew my days with the rockstars were over. Nao walked me home and even bought me some Pocari Sweat for the rest of the day. I told her I would like to thank her, when I got better I wanted to take her out for some tea or beer. But I never heard from her again for two years. Just before I left Japan, I saw her at one of the +/- shows. She was real drunk and we laughed our asses off over the asshole medicine. I made plans with Aiha, the other gal in SSKHKH to get hamburgers in Shimokitazawa, but never heard from her. I guess it just isn't meant to be for me and the rockstar elite...

The Little Jackhammer

I was just reminded my mom had a pet bunny. I had completely forgotten. It used to be my sister's bunny, and everyone in my family thought it was the cutest thing. Except me. I don't want to say I hated that bunny, but I couldn't say I loved him. First of all, I'm totally allergic to rabbits! Bubba the Bunny was my mom's third pet that made living in the same house with her miserable. All I had to do was turn seventeen (read: almost out the door) for my mom to give in to cuteness and start collecting cats and bunnies that made me a runny mess while conveniently blaming all my allergies on the evil Christmas Tree. Also, bunnies poop all over the place. And what looks like black jellybeans is fucking nasty to step in. Then there are the yawns, the licking, and the fucking. That's right. As the vet said, bunnies' strength is in their numbers. Which means that bunnies like to fuck like rockstars. And my mom's bunny had his own loveslave: a stuffed chicken doll. Let me tell you, nothing is more unsettling than hearing that cage rattle, then your mother looking over lovingly at her pet bunny going at it and saying "That's my little jackhammer..." Now that Bubba the Bunny is no longer with us, I'm trying to be a bit nicer about the whole thing. I almost enjoy this picture of a bunny yawn that made me remember the torture of Bubba in the first place. I like to imagine this bunny either almost attacking a fat person or about to bust out ACDC's "For Those About To Rock."

Ame Onna

There are a lot of Japanese folk tales that I heard while I was living there. There's the "oni," kinda like the devil but a lot cuter, the "yamamba," the old biddy who lives up on a mountain OR the kind of frankengirl who wanders around Shibuya partying all night, or the "casa kara obake," the ghost who comes from inside of an umbrella. But I truly believe that the legend of the Ame Onna might definitely apply to me. It's a girl who brings rain or bad weather, or sometimes bad luck to a situation. Now, those of you who have talked to me this year know that in Japanese astrology, this is my BIG bad luck year. Not just bad luck, BIG bad luck. But now that Houston has flooded 3 times since I've moved here, and I can't seem to drive across Texas without hitting a crazy rainstorm, I'm beginning to think that I'm Texas' answer to the Ame Onna.