On drunks and my slow-ass wifi

I am fed the fuck up with my Softbank “mobile wifi” device. It doesn’t work for shit in the evenings here. I can’t watch a You Tube video after 5pm, and there’s no use signing up for a Hulu Japan account, or using VPN to watch my American Netflix account either, because the thing is too slow. It’s too slow to load freaking Facebook, and I’m typing THIS offline because it won’t load WordPress either. So, yeah, I suppose whatever part of Tokyo I move to while writing my dissertation will dictate my home ‘net choices, but recommendations are still welcome, Tokyo-dwellers.

Meanwhile, my wifi dongle is now cock-blocking me from learning “The 21 Reasons Ira Glass Is The Most Perfect Man Alive” and “The 25 Hardest Things About Living in New Zealand“.

And I really think I’d be a happier person if I had 1) a couch and 2) access to English language film and TV a-plenty. I haven’t found a Japanese show in a loooong time that I’ve connected with enough to suffer through my language difficulties. I think the last one was that high-school drama about bullying. What was that show called? Life?

**
So I went to an all you can eat yakisoba and takoyaki (octopus balls, yuck) party on Friday evening. I was flat out exhausted, and should have realized that in such a state I’d just be odd and antisocial, unable to connect well with anyone. But I’d said I was coming, and I was a bit terrified of being alone (I get depressed at the drop of a hat lately), so I dragged myself there.

And…. I should listen to myself, because I really felt out of sorts as expected. And when I am in one of my moods, I am a magnet for drunk people. The first cornered/fell on me on the sofa that had been set up on the street, telling me in a slurred voice “gommmennn nasaiii” (I’m sorry). With her face an inch from mine, her sour beer breath steaming up my glasses, I found myself nodding and saying she didn’t need to apologize (I still didn’t know for what..) and that we were cool.

Apparently she really wanted to sleep with T, but, as she informed me, she had never touched him and she wouldn’t touch him because if someone did that to her she would kill the bitch. And also, that was why she is always cold and aloof to me, and why she has avoided talking to me (I’d never noticed, to be honest.) T, at this point, seeing my “distressed face” came up and asked what we were talking about. She blathered at him to mind his own business, leaned over and snacked his thigh, and started up with the “gomens” to me again. T, missing the fleeting “oh my god get me out of this” expression on my face, beat a retreat to talk to someone slightly less drunk, and I eventually thought I could extract myself by going to the bathroom.

Cheers has a wee little one person bathroom, and oh yes, drunk girl was coming in with me. I finally managed to squeeze her out long enough to pee, as she rattled the handle in protest. When, after about 10 deep breaths I exited, she was waiting for me, and she made me hug her about three times and swear we were bffs before I finally escaped for good.

I hate being around really drunk people… I’m the daughter of an alcoholic, and it brings back a lot of horrible, helpless, furious feelings when people around me are smashed, and particularly when they are smashed and expect something from me emotionally.

From there it was a string of drunk men inappropriately giving me arm and shoulder rubs, and one even getting so far up into my personal space, I’m pretty sure he was going in for a kiss, so I backed away quickly. The whole evening resulted in me having a rage-dream, wherein I jolted awake furious, covered in sweat, and with balled-up fists.

Kind of cemented my urge to never leave the apartment again, as right now I also really really don’t want to  speak in Japanese (but I have to, or else I’m giving T the silent treatment, and he did get home and start making us dinner while I write this).

I didn’t get a damn thing done today, as the depression has me a bit useless. Well, I did do a long round of yoga, and a long meditation session, the laundry, housecleaning, etc. but when I say “not a damn thing” I mean the only thing that really matters: my work.

p.s. totally over yakisoba… I hope I don’t see the stuff again for a loooong time.