Today is tattoo day. Or rather, appointment #5 in the continuing saga of this big shoulder/arm/chest tattoo. I’ve been wanting to get this thing done for years, and the truth is, it’s gone way overbudget, but I keep pretending that it hasn’t because I don’t want a half-finished tattoo. Anyway, I arrived to the Shibuya shop and my tattoo artist had forgotten our appointment, which had never before happened. She actually is going to give me a steep discount to come back later tonight. So here I sit, with the windows open in my apartment (T’s apartment) on this lovely sunny Tokyo day, farting around on WordPress and NOT doing research work until I need to leave for this appointment
Yesterday I sucked it up and went to a real therapist, rather than the University (the U) counselors. The Indian-British woman I saw was light years better than most of the American counselors I’ve ever seen, which shocked me because she was also cheaper (shout out to http://www.telljp.com/ ) She also speaks 6 languages fluently, which seems to be a talent of many Indian ex-pats I’ve met and never ceases to amaze me given my struggles with Japanese. (Then again, she doesn’t speak Japanese.. mwahaha.)
When talking about the situation with J I almost cried twice, so I was a mess for most of the day. Adding to the stress my money situation is a bit dire (to say the least) for three reasons: 1. my debit card recently gave out. The card itself is too old, and it won’t scan anymore, anywhere. So my money is kinda stuck. 2. No credit card/backup in Japan while I wait for a new card to be made… which is taking forever. 3. I am actually quite a careful budgeter and recently jumped in to using You Need a Budget. So when I prepared to sell off my old laptop I coordinated with the buyer and wrote that into my budget. But… he hasn’t paid me yet. Because he lives far away we agreed that he’d send me photocopies of his ID cards and then after he received the laptop in the mail, he’d verify that it works and then pay me. But the bastard hasn’t paid me a dime yet and it’s been two weeks! I just told the miserable SOB that if he doesn’t pay me by Tuesday I am calling the police, which sounds like a nightmare to me but… I have no other leverage.
So I can’t access this money… that I don’t have anyway.
Broke broke broke. Last night T, feeling sorry for me, bought me wine and cheese. And then he made me an omelette when we got home. I rewarded him by crying on his shoulder and getting his favorite “full of holes, but it’s soooo soft I can’t throw it out” t-shirt all wet. I cried about the stress of living here, of my life turning upside down since I moved here, missing my dogs, etc. I had a big ol’ cry and then fell asleep. I am a fun girl, let it be known.
He made up for coming home tipsy after hanging out with man-friends and waking me up at 2AM by calling my name “L-chan, I loooooove you” like a 5 year old the day before. I almost pushed him out the window. Being woken up is one of my pet-peeves. If I ever manage to have a child, god help me.
For some reason the man will not get rid of clothing with holes. I blame his Japanese “motainai”-ness (“waste not, want not” as my mom would say). So just now I saw his orange undies in the laundry pile… they have 2 big holes in them. They are now in the trash. But I had better take that trash out before he gets off work or they’ll be straight back in the laundry pile. The man owns more undies than I do (sexy, stylin undies nonetheless)~ what does he need the holey pair for? I think orange is his favorite color and I’m about to break his heart, but you can see the man’s butt through the back!
I think a nap is called for. Nothin like a nap in the sunny warm breeze.
Also am trying to figure out how to add my Amazon wishlists here, because I have this fantasy that somehow a mystery present will arrive at my door someday.