Musings of a Drunken Monk: Individual Entry Archive

It's been a while that I've done a post not related to the redesign. So it's time to set things a-right with my readership...by delivering some random crap that'll hopefully make people laugh, cry, roll their eyes, or do something. I may even settle for scratching one's butt, though I'd hope it's in reaction to this post. Then again, maybe I'm not exactly looking for that.

Let's start off with life mistakes. Everyone has them: those mistakes that you're always thinking back upon like "why????!!" Past wrongs done, past things said, people hurt, cool mp3s deleted...that kind of thing. Today's mistake is my pants. I was at Uniqlo (for you wanna-be hipsters in the UK and US, it's all over Japan and just because it's a foreign brand does not make it any hipper than the GAP, which is exactly what it is) a while back thinking I needed a new pair of dressy pants for school. Hey, it was a sale and lo, there was a sale on dressy pants. Yes! So I tried on this pair of pants and bought them. No sweat. Honestly, I don't know what I was thinking. Every time I wear these pants I cringe. I still wear them because I paid money for them and when I tried them on I must've thought there was something redeeming about them. But really. I look like one of those skinny huge-assed guys...without the ass. So in essence, I look like a 145-pound guy with the hips (and not the ass) of a pregnant woman. I think it's the pleats? Oh for the love of...why am I still wearing these things? Never.again.

Next up is the toilet in my school. I've blogged about it not long ago, but as the winter is getting even colder the daily toilet-saga is worsening. Every time I sit down now, I can't help but squeak out obscenities. It's that cold. Seriously, we're talking a seat of ice, folks. It often comes down to "can I wait until I get home to the bliss of my heated toilet seat?" Sadly, just as often the answer is "no." Damn you school lunch.

Lastly, it's the gym. I usually use the weight room at school because well...it's free. It's also unheated and thus gets rather cold in the winter. Lifting heavy objects made of metal while it's 33 degrees isn't a good idea. So I sucked it up and started paying 6300円　(about 60 bucks) a month to go to the gym after 8:30PM only on weeknights. Wow what a bargain. Anyway, my gym experience has been enlightening. (Disclaimer: before you crucify me for being a chauvanist pig, read to the end puhleeze) For one, I have, and never again will, see so many women over 40 with 25-year-old bodies. It's a very strong testament to what western women might look like if they didn't so often blimp out. It's also, unfortunately, a testament to the ridiculous starvation dieting that women do here. Men in Japan enjoy the same sexist benefits of being able to blimp out with much less negative impact, though far fewer men here seem to do so. Witness the 50 year old PTA guy with the 30 year old body. Then there's "ol' meathead." I was under the (largely confirmed until I went to a club with Roy) impression that Japanese men didn't get very hugely muscular. Then I came to the gym and saw meathead. He's just like every other huge gym dude you've seen. His neck is bigger around than my legs, and he has bigger manboobs than most women. He goes around the gym helping all of the lesser humans get their workout right, thus benefitting from everyone thinking he's the man of the gym. Really it just comes down to the fact that I'm seething with jealousy. I'm 110% sure that there will never be a time in my life when I will be called a meathead. I mean, wouldn't it be cool just to know that someone is thinking "dayum that guy is built?" Maybe not, actually, but I do prefer that to the alternative "li'l twig" that seems to be a far more accurate descriptor for yours truly. Awwww.