Wee wee huh huh and all things French!

While still away from Japan, I started receiving e-mails from a young French man.  It appears he had stumbled across my other blog and was interested in hanging out with me while he visited Japan for business.  We did the typical exchanging data and friending on Facebook.  Scanning all his photos, I noticed there were almost none of him.  I can't lie, this made me a tad worried.  Back home, I'd never think to engage in conversation with such absolute strangers...however, there's something about Japan that automatically makes me assume the best in people...I'm guessing at some point this is going to bite me in the a#*.
 

When I returned home, we made a point to meet for dinner after work.  6:30 and I found myself sitting in the lobby of his hotel in Roppongi.  Having only seen a half shot of him with some overgrown man-woman in Harajuku, I didn't know what to expect.  15 minutes late, I hear my name called out in a heavy French accent - I won't even try to reproduce it in print as my ability to replicate accents is atrocious.  I turned to see one of the slimmest men I've ever seen.  We were equal in height, but he was about half my build...it was rather unnerving.  His face matched his body in slender composition.  His hair was dirty blonde and thinning...I hate to say, but he didn't look as young as he claimed to be (4 years my junior).  I stood up and shook his hand, taking in his attire - khakis, pastel pull-over and heavy scarf...I don't remember it being quit that cold outside.  Upon introductions he smiled and immediately started joking.  Unfortunately, his English was rather poor and what skills he knew were masked by his heavy accent.

Not having any clue where to go, we just started walking.  Within minutes we found ourselves in a shabushabu restaurant where the food was prepped right out in the open.  Feeling rather out of place next this man I had just met.  I asked to be seated at the bar.  I have to admit I wasn't playing very cordial.

As the meal came out and our conversation began to wane, he immediately broken into a story about a family sitting across from us.  According to him the parents were clearly French, as was the son.  The family had come to Japan to meet their son's wife, a beautiful but older Japanese woman.  He went on for fifteen minutes or so, explaining and detailing their every move or change in facial expression.  I immediately found myself relaxing and as soon as a couple sat to our left, began in on a story about them.  Listening to nothing more than words and checking body language, I pinpointed their professions and where they came from.  Interested in knowing how accurate I was, our volume immediately dropped and we leaned in for some serious ease-dropping.  I had been 75% correct in my assumptions.  The results pleasantly surprising me and spurring me on to continue my observations of other couples around the restaurant.  While I wasn't physically attracted to him, I found myself becoming keener to the idea of a possible second meeting.

10 rolled in quickly upon which we split the bill and parted ways. Upon arriving home, I found an e-mail asking if I arrived safely and asking when we could meet again.  We both were relatively busy and found our next meeting to be 4 days out.  Over the course of the next couple of days we exchanged witty e-mails and decided on meeting for some authentic Korean food in Shin-Okubo.

The food was delicious...but the conversation was even better.  We discussed our future plans and found we were both interested in attending the same master's program/school.  I found we shared a love for similar things and had very similar outlooks on life.  We discussed a great many things and I found myself dropping my guard and even, upon occasion, finding him cute when he smiled (which was often).   After dinner, he asked to go up to the Park Hyatt tower.  Being totally fearless, he went up to many random strangers attempting to ask for directions (despite understanding no Japanese).  An hour later and two wrong hotels later, we found it.  I positioned myself across from him, but soon found him sitting next to me.  I shifted a leg under me and leaned away to try and give some clear distance between us...But, I could still smell his cologne...musky...yet sweet.  Amongst the alcohol, lighting and breathtaking view of the city, I found myself totally vulnerable.  He must have been able to sense it as conversation started steering toward relationships.  A couple sat across from us, eyes locked on each other and fingers weaving in and out.  He kept directing me towards them, asking me what their story was and I kept trying to deflect.  Warning signals started to go off in my head!!  There was no desire to become involved with someone who didn't even live on the same continent.

Thankfully, at that point we were told it was closing time and we'd have to leave the premises.  Pointing in the direction of taxis, I indicated that I would walk home from here.  Despite it being a very chill night, he insisted on walking me back home.   Assuming he was joking, I began my brisk pace back.  I literally found his jogging to keep up.  Hoping this wasn't going to turn into my worst nightmare, I continued to walk faster, despite growing protest from him.  But instead of growing angrier, he actually turned the matter into a joke, causing me to laugh so many times that I eventually found that my power walk had slowed to a stroll.  At the main intersection near my house, I sent him on his way back to his hotel (easily another 40 minute walk).  We took my hand and bowed and we parted ways.  I felt a glow start to come out from within..."What a gentleman" I thought to myself.  A small smirk crossed my face as I broke into a jog back towards my house.   As my barefeet pounded the unpaved sidewalk, I find my mind drifting to thoughts of the evening.

A week later, I found myself having coffee with him outside a large Starbucks.  Conversation came as natural as if we had known each other for years.  After an hour of people watching, he spoke my name rather solemnly and began speaking in French.  I cocked my head sideways as if to better process a language I failed to understand.  My eyes grew small and I felt myself leaning in.  He shook his head and protested, "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST SPEAK FRENCH!"  and laughed.

He then continued in English, "I don't know how you say in English, but if I lived here, I would appreciate the privilege of...how do you say...dating you!"

I laughed out of nervousness, making him lose his cool and ask, "What, did I say it wrong?"  

"No, thank you, it's a very nice thing to say."

"But so many men must want to date you. You are smart and beautiful and I want to kiss your lips."

My mouth fell open and not knowing any better way to respond, I excused myself for the restroom.

Coming out 10 minutes later, I tried to direct conversation in a less personal direction.  But...as I gazed across the table at him, I found that somehow, in a matter of minutes, I had become attracted to the boy sitting on the other side.  He didn't just sit in the chair, he draped himself in such as way as to look both graceful and commanding.  My normally domineering self had given way to a less confident and unguarded side.  At that moment, I had lost the upper hand.  With one comment he had sucked the independent ball-busting woman right out of me.  Over the course of 3 dates, I had found myself falling for a French man.

It must have been clear that my mind was somewhere else, as he asked, "Are you doing alright?"
I mentioned that it had been a long day and I was just getting very tired.  I asked for the time...."1:15"

"1:15!!! I can't get home! What kind of Starbucks stays open until 1:15!"
At no point had I thought we had possibly been talking until 1:15.

"What am I going to do?!"

"You can come back to my place." he said with a coy smile on his face.

My jaw literally dropped and I began to stammer a reason why I couldn't possibly...the number one reason being that I no longer trusted myself to control myself.

"NO! I insist.  Where else will you go?! You have to work in the morning and I have a place within walking distance of your job.  Please, come back.  I will be a gentleman and keep my hands to myself.  Please, no worried."

Checking my wallet and finding no money, I slowly rose...and agreed.

We walked back with an arms-length between us.  I hesitantly followed up behind him, hands in front of me, heart racing.  He opened the doors to his room, he allowed me the bathroom to change and shower.  I came out and found him under the sheets, fully clothed.  I audibly sighed in relief.  Next to him lay a body length pillow, perfectly down the middle.

He patted it as he said, "This is to make sure I stay on my side,"  he laid propped up on a pillow with a proud smile on his face.

Still wearing my dress, I crawled in under the covers, pulling them up to my chin and rolled away from him.

"good night." I whispered.
"good night." he mumbled.

It was one of those moments where time simmered to a near stop.  I lay frozen on my side, peering into the dark, holding my breath and straining my ears to try and listen to his breathing...waiting for him to fall asleep.  In the process, I fell asleep.  What seemed like minutes later I heard someone calling my name, "Are you alright?"  Meekly I responded, "Yes."  "Ok."  This happened periodically throughout the night, I still don't know if this was done while he still slept or intentionally.  In the morning, I woke and dressed in a flash.  He lounged in bed and commented on how beautiful it was to watch a woman dress.  As I turned to head out the door, he asked, "Can I at least get a hug for my good behavior last night?"  I didn't even stop and as I walked out of sight said, "Thank you...and no."

Long Distance Dating Addict

Tangent - On Christmas day, I received a series of keitai e-mails from the Australian.  First wishing me a merry Christmas, then asking if I'm still dating or single, and third asking me out for drinks.  It took two months before our schedules actually lined up for drinks and I quickly remembered why things didn't work out the first time.

In the meantime, I had met, through a Tokyo friend, an American guy who was supposedly perfect for me.  He was tall, very well educated, high rank in a big company, loved to be active and travel, funny, easy going, and real family oriented.  The only hitch was, he lived in the states.   We started chatting, then Skyping, and then sending witty, flirtatious e-mails back and forth.  He ran me through his "dating" survey to make sure that I was neither crazy nor had a string of crazy exes.  I ran him through my checklist of 27 qualities I look for in a man.  We found that we had very similar tastes in music, movies, books, and even an undying passion for the same drink.  Once we both felt that the other wasn't some deranged potential stalker, we began talking about possibly meeting.  In all honesty, he seemed like a perfect fit...on paper. 

Within a couple of months I found myself waiting at the airport for him to arrive.  He had a vacation planned to Singapore and had changed his plans to include a long layover in Tokyo so that we could meet.  Coming off the long flight, he was still dressed impeccably.  During the usually dull train ride back into Tokyo, he entertained me with crazy stories of his college days.  And from start to finish he was a total gentleman, even giving me his jacket in the freezing cold.  After a delicious dinner, and with very few places open, we wound up back at his hotel.  We continued to chat, play cards, and ridiculing Japanese TV.  All in all he really did seem like a stand-up guy...unfortunately, nothing was going to change about his living situation and the next day I found myself again alone in Japan.

We continued to chat almost daily.  After about a month, I decided to include a trip to visit him in my plans home.   He then began talking about the possibility of a long-distance relationship...WHAT!?  We're more than 1/2 a world apart, have only met once in person, and talk through Skype and you want to try to hold a long distance relationship?  I declined and instead told him that we should try and spend a bit more time together before jumping to any conclusions.  I wasn't about to rush into another relationship.

Over the next couple of months we continued to chat and I found myself liking him more and more.  I noticed that he was part of a food review site and decided to check out his reviews...and that's when the first red flag went up.  Most of his reviews included comments about the dates he took to those places...at which point I began to wonder.  I didn't care that he was still dating, but I noticed that each one seemed to be with a different woman...was he a serial dater? Of course being a woman, I tend to over think, but still...it made me feel a bit cautious.

When I arrived in town, things seemed great.  He never dropped character.  We had deep conversations about politics, family, and religion and conversation always seemed smooth.  We went out with his friends and he even told them that we were dating.  Everything seemed great until the last night when we were out with his friends and they started making cracks about the number of women he's dated...red flag number two.  As much as I wanted to believe he was an honest and genuine guy, something just didn't sit right.

I flew home and for the remaining 10 days of my trip, I barely had any contact with him.  And that's when I realized the dude was a long-distance dating addict.  During my visit he shared more information abut his past relationships.  After about the third or fourth girl, I started to notice a pattern: he had had a long number of previous girlfriends who had lived in other states and even other countries.  I know he traveled often, but I found it odd that one person would manage so many long distance relationships in his lifetime.  He enjoyed traveling to meet them on the weekends, but must have enjoyed having his bachelorhood during the weeks even more.  As I pondered this, additional doubt crept in.  Would he continue to date other people while "dating" me from afar?  If I moved back to the State was he really ready to settle into a relationship?  I decided it wasn't worth pushing and let communication settle to infrequent at best.  Our conversations became more honest and open and he revealed the extreme importance of his career and though he wanted to settle down, he had grown accustomed to a life of last minute travel and didn't feel a family could fit into that.

We've continued to stay friends and every so often, when he finds himself momentarily single, he still e-mails to ask if I want him to come out for a "visit."  I joke that he'll have to sleep on the floor, which usually guarantees that he always finds another place to vacation.   I have to admit that every time he does this, I can't help but wonder, which woman on his Facebook list will he be visiting next?  While I can't answer that, what I do know is, it won't be me.

When I was married, I found myself always wishing to have more in common with my husband.  I felt like we agreed on very little and shared almost no similar interest, leaving us to often do out own thing.  I always believe that if I found someone who I shared similar passions with, then for sure it would work out better than what I was in at the time.  And yet, here I find a person that matches me perfectly on paper and it still just doesn't quite work out.  To which I then find myself having to stop and wonder, just what is it that I'm looking for?  And thus began my summer quest...

I hope you read this

I haven't finished writing this blog because I'm not creative enough to come up with what really happened next.  Because in reality, nothing ended up happening.  The woman came to the door, the door was opened, and in Japanese that I didn't understand, she was turned away.  To be honest,  much of these posts are fictitious.  Nothing more than half truths birthed from anger, frustration and hurt. The man I paint is not the man that I really dated, but the man who I saw out of envy, jealousy, and heartbrokenness.  I came to Japan feeling a trapped and withering woman.  In a marriage that was broken, lonely, and without love, no more his fault as it was my own.  Once here I thought I found freedom from it and in the process of breaking free of that relationship, I devastated another.  I pushed the limits, I wrote words that were no more than words spoken from a weak man's lips and then painted him out to be a man that he wasn't. In a time of weakness, I dragged things out of him that he never wanted to tell me.  And out of my childishness in the process I hurt a lot of people.  Making me a truly despicable person.  Unfortunately, this post might come too late as things might be past repair.  But here is the real truth of what happened.

I met a man I could talk to about anything with at Ueno station over a year ago.  A man so smart and so handsome and cute that I was immediately taken in.  By the end of the first night I knew it was something special. Unfortunately, after the first meeting, he didn't want to even meet me again.  I was relentless in e-mailing him and finally got him to agree to meet me.  During the second meeting, I played the shy and naive woman and despite having the knowledge that there was someone else (yes, he had told me from the beginning). Not as a girlfriend but as someone he cared deeply about.  Someone that was so close to him she was like family, that he couldn't live without, but that at the time he was feeling depressed and wasn't sure if he was really in love with her as things were starting to get more serious. I knew he was vulnerable and thought that I could use that to my gain.  I made sure we missed the last train home.  I had no money left, so he had to pay for the hotel and with no place else to go, he had to stay.  Everything that happened was a mistake on both our parts. But in moments of irrationality,  I thought I had found someone that I could spend my life with and I didn't want to let him go.  

The next day, I was the one who told him that I loved him on the train, something that I've never said so quickly to a man (before or since).  Maybe he felt he had to say it in return because despite everything he was a very loving man.  From there I threw everything out the window and lost all sense and morals.  Knowingly, I pursued a relationship with him.  He was hesitant at first, but I didn't give up.  I tried to be as caring and understanding as possible.  I tried to find ways to make myself invaluable to him.  And the more I did this, the more confused he got.  Until everything came to a peak in August.  I could tell he was torn and I pushed him and pushed him to break up with her.  And he did, and for a week I was happy.  But it didn't last.  He was clearly depressed.  Then on my birthday she called and he answered.  He immediately smiled.  He was so happy to talk to her and I...I bit my tongue and fumed.  Like a child, I grew angry and bitter.  Here he was finally smiling and happy and for what?  A cockroach.  She was telling him about a cockroach and he couldn't be happier.  My heart crashed through the floor and the thin string of sanity I was trying to hold onto snapped.  I could see that I was about to lose the first man I had passionately fallen for.  But on my birthday, I knew it was lost.  Maybe when we first got together he was confused, but after a month of not talking to her, it was clear that he was in love.  And like a fool I tried to ignore it.

Hardly a conversation went by where he didn't talk about how much he worried about her.  I sat at countless dinners watching tears well up in his eyes as he said things like, "I can't have fun, knowing how miserable she must be." "I have to call her, I have to know how she's doing."  And I tried to convince him she was fine.  That things would be fine...but they weren't.  They were quickly getting worse.  She found out about him emailing a woman about a threesome...it wasn't his idea.  I was the one who actually wrote the e-mail and sent it using his profile.  I thought that a threesome was every man's fantasy.  I thought that if I did it, he wouldn't leave me...I had become one of those women that purposely tries to get pregnant to trap a man.  I was as ugly as they come. But he only got angry at me for doing it and nothing ever happened. It didn't take long before I too became depressed.  Worried he would leave me, I started pointing out beautiful foreign women and in all honesty, most of the time, he never even saw them he was so trapped in his own head.  

A few weeks later he told me he wanted to meet her for her birthday.  That he had left her alone for so long and he couldn't leave her on her birthday.  From there it all went downhill.  We spoke less, saw each other less, stopped sleeping together, and every time we met did nothing but fight...endless fighting.  And I knew it was because of her and my heart broke at the thought of losing him to someone else.  I would ask about her and he would refuse to tell me anything as he didn't want to disrespect her.   Nevertheless, he talked on and on about how much better she was with money than me, how much more independent she was, how easy going she was, and how laid back.  He talked about how much more responsible and hardworking and I just got angrier and angrier.  He would say things like, "why can't you do this like my girlfriend." "If this happened, my girlfriend would just ignore it because she knows how to handle it, why don't you do that."  "My girlfriend is realistic, why do you have to be so overly optimistic?"  He always spoke of her with a smile on his face and never said anything negative, though I would try and get something out of him as I couldn't stand to listen to so much positive.  From the start he never ever stopped using the word girlfriend.  So what did he call me?  I'm not sure, I don't think he ever saw me as more than a moment of irrational passion. And that's when I again suggested a threesome.  I went online, I found a woman, and I even offered to pay for it.  He kept asking if I was sure, he never said he wanted to do it.  And when that woman came to the door, he was the one that decided he wouldn't do it.

We broke up that day.  He told me that he wanted to go on vacation with his girlfriend.  He told me that he wanted to try to make things better with her, because through everything she had never left him.  He told me that he knew she would make a good mother and that he would always be content with her.  And he did.  He went back to her and I spent a week, alone, in the north doing nothing but eating and sleeping.  But I don't blame him, because by that point I had dropped my hold on sanity and here she was, strong as ever...and there I lay damaged.  

It took months before I dared to contact him again.  I had started dating again and felt like things had calmed down.  I wanted to make sure everything was ok with him because I knew how badly he wanted to make things work.  And it was.  His work was going fantastic, he was telling his girlfriend that he loved her and he told me that he wanted to marry her.  Though I thought I had gotten over it, those words pinched and thus I started writing my post out of spite and anger.  Here he was, a 100% different man than the man I had met a year before.  And here I was...back in the same place as when I arrived a year before, dating aimlessly.  It was in tears that I wrote my original post maybe hoping someday she would come across it and she would leave him and maybe I could have him back.   We were very  similar people and conversation had draw us together and I tried e-mailing, but unlike the last time, he rarely responded.  I sent funny texts, joking about him buying a condo and then renting it out to me 'cause I found the condo of my dreams but couldn't get a loan as a foreigner.  He responded saying no way.  He was as straight as an arrow.  I admit I was happy for him.  While I had cared deeply for him, almost a year had passed and I had learned to come to terms with everything.  He'll always have a place in my heart, but I know that only one women will remain in his.

I know that I will never hear from him again.  He truly is a broken man wanting to do everything that he can for the woman he loves.  And I once again find myself in this city, surrounded by people and yet never more alone.  Right before my eyes he walked, ran, sprinted back to the arms of his girlfriend...the girl who never stopped being his girlfriend.  The woman who will always be his girlfriend.  I was right, he is a very loving man, but he never loved me, he never loved anyone but her.  And maybe he told me he didn't love her, but his actions spoke volumes about just how deeply he cared about her....and just like a few months ago I wrote out of jealousy and foolishness, I now write out of the deepest desire for sincerity, that I hope and pray and give everything of myself and my dignity to let her know just how faithful he has been to her this past year and just how much this man wants this woman to spend the rest of her life with him.

Coming back for more

The first date ended cordially.  The second date...well, not so much.

The second date happened a few weeks later.  We met in Shinjuku at a Korean BBQ place.  Him in his Calvin Klein suit, slicked back hair, and delicious cologne made me flush as soon as he approached my vision.  He walked and talked with great confidence and charm.  Not to mention his piercing gaze.  Dinner again carried on with little depth in conversation.  Banter, general talk about life and dating.  And again...the tie came off and the top two buttons slipped open to reveal his muscled chest.  Did I mention he was a rugby player and still managed to maintain the build 10 years later.

From dinner we proceeded to the Park Hyatt to enjoy some drinks.  As we sat the bar, the overt flirting picked up.  He asked if it would be ok to hold my hand.  This shocked me, as no guy has ever asked, and certainly not one who cared himself with so much confidence.  I agreed.  He had baby soft hands, that wove themselves between mine.  I felt like a child compared to him and quickly found myself lost to whatever he suggested. Needless to say, I exceeded my capacity  for liquor that night.  While sitting at the bar I tried my first martini, a few imported beers, all topped off with a glass of champagne.  Something I had never had and quickly found that I couldn't handle.  Feeling tipsy and a bit nauseous, it quickly became clear that I wasn't fit to to make the 40 minute train ride home.  At this time I was totally unfamiliar with the area, but my date was nice enough to take me to a rather nice love hotel...what was one of my first, of many, trips (to what I have now come to realize as Kabukicho...wow, was I clueless).

While we waited downstairs for a room to open, I sat with my head between my knees.  He continued to rub my back.  Once up in the room I was too exhausted to do more than remove my shirt and pants and slip under the covers.  He kept his back to me until I was underneath.  I called him closer to the bed and ask him to stay until I fell asleep.  To be honest, at that point I was up for almost anything.  And as he sat next to me, I curled up around him and tried to lure him in.  With enough flirtatious conversation his hands made their way over my body and yet he did nothing more than stare.  Despite being past my limit, I soon become embarrassed, yet...well, you can imagine.  After 15 minutes or so, he lay next to me and just caressed my face.  He gently kissed me.  It was pleasant and, while I can try and blame the alcohol, I can't deny that I would have been open to just about anything.  Yet, he stopped and quickly picked up his things to leave stating he wouldn't feel right doing anything to me in this state.  I was shocked and just like the first date, things ended with me dumbfounded as to what had just happened.

The next morning I work early and using a hand-drawn map he had left for me, I made my way back to Shinjuku station.  I reached home by 8am, only to find my roommate had bolted me out of the apartment.  I was exhausted, hung over, and just wanted to crawl into bed to sleep.  I rang the doorbell, I pounded, I called and yet nothing.  Finally, I pulled myself up onto the 6 foot tall brick wall, carefully maneuvered my way along the 4 inch wide wall that separated my apartment from the surrounding houses.  I can only imagine what it must have looked like to any onlooker who watched as I balanced my way across 20 feet of wall, with the grace of a drunken ballerina, and lowered myself into our "backyard."  With nothing else to do, I pounded on her window.  Nothing.  WHAT THE HELL!  I pounded again, this time loudly whispering her name.  Finally her curtains opened and she scowled out at me.  Granted, I should have e-mailed or something to let her know I wasn't coming home, but was it really necessary to bolt the door, where the heck did she think I was?!

This was the start of my tumultuous relationship with my Japanese roommate and my brief love affair with a true Japanese gentleman.

Thunder from down under...cheesiest title ever.

But I couldn't think of another way to explain meeting a Japanese man with an Australian accent.

He contacted me through ILN, no picture, and very little to be said.  Enjoys all sorts of music, wants to be able to have a good conversation and some drinks and enjoy life to the fullest.  We exchanged e-mails...which, sadly, are not all the interesting.  And after much back and forth scheduled a time to meet...in Ikebukuro of all places.

Not having lived in Japan long and almost never having traveled into Tokyo, I was wholly unfamiliar with the station and upon arrival was already lost.  Having come from work, I was in rather business like attire (white slacks and a black blouse).  Once I found my way to an exit, I stood at the corner of the street scanning around for a cafe.  Within five minutes I had a rather indecent proposal from an Indian man and a Japanese man leaning out his window asking if I wanted to get in his car for a ride.  WHAT IN THE WORLD!?  What about dress slacks and blouse says, HOOKER?!  Or does everyone foreign woman in Ikebukuro only go there for one thing?

I immediately called the person who will be here-for-to referred to as Workaholic.  He told me to wait for him and he'd come to get me.  Upon arrival, he quickly mentioned just how short I was.  WHAT!? Short? I'm 180cm!  I was the same height as he was.  And yet, I was short!?  Despite the strange introduction, I must say that I immediately found that I was overwhelmingly attracted to him.  I'm not sure I've ever experienced such a strong chemistry, it was almost embarrassing and I found it very difficult to look him in the eyes.  I was still shy and rather innocent.  My concept of the world, before coming to Japan, was that of a rather strongly religious suburban area.  My concepts on dating, sex, and life in general where naive.  And I could tell from one look, that this man, who was nearly 10 years my senior, could easily bring me to my knees.

He escorted me to a coffee shop, which I think was his game plan in case I was uglier in person.  We had a few drinks and rather shallow conversation before moving onto dinner.  I don't remember much about the restaurant other than it was very dark and smokey, drying out my contacts.   Continuing to divert my gaze, I stared at his nose and his lips...and wait...did he just take off his tie and undo his button.  This caused my pulse to race and I felt my face grow red.  In an attempt to not spend the entire night blushing, I looked around at the other patrons, the waiter.  At one point, it became so obvious that he asked me if I was more interested in the waiter.  I laughed and told him that I had a problem making eye contact...almost like a whipped dog.        I admitted that I had spent most the night looking at his nose, which he then informed me was broken.  Then, all I could notice the whole night was how crooked his nose was...and yet it didn't make me any less attracted to him.

The night ended rather early, and being the shy, prude, and clueless girl I was.  I headed for the station and we parted ways.  And when I sat and reflected on the night...I'm not sure I really heard anything that he said...or was it that nothing was really said?

And like my ex...he was a disappointment.

His response. While I'd love to post the pic, I'm not quite sure what kind of privacy problems that could cause. I will tell you the picture that he sent included his "ex" wife. He looked sleazy, even in the nice suit, and she...well she had a great breasts...I'll admit I was a tad jealous...but the fact that he included a pic with his "ex"...well that was disturbing enough to have me call the whole thing off.

His e-mail -

Hmmm.........unpeeling the layers of the onion...........always brings a tear to the eye.....sigh ! Popular Science......haven't read one of those in ages :) ............and Playgirl...sigh.. never !

Anglophbe is definitely worrisome.......but I dont want to make it easier for your therapist by resolving that one :) ..........we all carry our crosses........and you certainly have an interesting collection ;) ...........luckily not an Anglo bone in my body ;) .........Mom is Persian !

Delicate defenseless............Awww.........now you are turning me to mush :) ........and confusing the hell out of me too........whatever happened to the Yogi who is learning to transcend materiality and emotions.......

Of course the choice is not mine alone........perhaps I did not express myself clearly enough......It does take two to tango.......or 8 if you are truly into Shokushu Goukan :) .........I had no idea what it was......and was feeling quite inadequate because of it !.........till I Wikipediaed it to much merriment :) ........oh boy, your therapist has no idea whats coming at him :))

As for innate, thank god I did not venture into the realms of pre-natal learning, or you would've challenged me to a real duel instead of merely an intellectual one ! .........On the subject of kamasutra, further discussion must be in the tradition of Teacher -Student, whereby for imparting such learning I would have to charge you !!

However since you were planning to levy a fee of some sort as well, according to the principles of Energy Exchange, we may as well cross one payment stream with the other.........and call it quits :)

Here's a pic ..............and one at a time should do.....

I didn't respond. Maybe one of the first smart things I'd done in a while...soon to be followed by a series of rather brainless ones.

And the real point...

Sorry, became busy and then went back and read what I wrote and realized maybe I didn't really explain what this is all about very well...or maybe not honestly enough. Many of these events took place over a year ago, but I just never got around to writing them out (outside of my iphone that is). Now that the tides have settled, I figured it might be safe to write about many of my sexual encounters while here in Japan. The e-mail posted was one of the first of many. I'm going to try and post as many of them as I can. Now you probably wonder why someone would want to post this information on-line for everyone to see? Well, everyone I talk to about it keeps telling me that I should (yesterday a friend was even trying to hook me up with another friend at a magazine to write about all the things I manage to get myself into). My response was, "maybe once I return home and no longer have the potential of facing any of these people."

In order to keep things flowing chronologically, maybe I should start from the beginning. I'll get back to the e-mail, but first I feel I should set the stage for what kind of mental state I was in at the time I was doing all this on-line "dating".

I got married at 19. What can I say, people marry young where I'm from. To top it off, I don't think I was really in love with him. In fact, he was only my 3rd relationship, but he was charismatic and seemed like one of the nicest guys I've ever met...yep...I married a guy because I thought he was nice. He was sweet and seemed reliable, but what did I know, we only dated for 8 months before we got married. The proposal went something like this,

Him: "We have a lot in common."

Me: "Yeah"

Him: "Ever think about getting married."

Me: "Um. I dunno"

Him: "We can do it today if you want."
Me: "Um, ok."

That was it. And the next 8 years of my life were spent trying to figure out what the hell I just did and just how much longer I could survive. Then I arrived in Japan.

Within a month I realized, "WOW! This is what it feels like to be happy!" I told him this would be a separation. The dark storm was like a taste of freedom to flirt and tease without feeling guilty about the guy who was waiting back home. Yes, probably not the best way to go about doing things in life, but I was a coward and instead of just saying I wanted a divorce, I dragged it out into a separation. Not to excuse myself, I did tell him who I was talking to and if and when I met people. He could date, I would date. And I did just that. I signed up for the International Love Network through Gaijinpot and waited. That's when the dark storm arrived...and for one of the first times I felt excited, alive and mildly amused.

So back to the story, here is his response to my previous e-mail:

The plot thickens !

Not only is she American....(as if sleep-talking with celebs was not
hint enough )...but knows yogic positions beyond Surya
Namaskar.....and has had some initiation into Chakra Cleansing and
possibly aural readings. Hmmmm...being in Japan, I suppose some casual
brush with Reiki.

Cavalier attitude towards the english language then falls right within
the range of expected stereo-type :) as does predilection for Manga
porn ;)

Gotta admit, that to a casual observer, I might seem easy, but
eventually the choice is mine isn't it.....would I expend my expertise
and innate skill on someone not worthy ?

Being half Indian (Dad's side) I do stake a claim to the teachings and
spirit of Kamasutra ! ....that's the stuff you won't get in your
Playgirl subscription !

In conclusion, for 2** you seem far too worldly wise and far less horny
than the average white american girl !

Still does not explain why she charges 1500+ SGD !!....but I do think
she'll make for an exciting adveture for a lunch meeting :)

If she does agree to meet with a 37 year old complicated male, how on
earth am I going to recognize her, if she does not send a pic !!!

Its killing my fingers....banging this out on a blackberry....am
travelling and may not access this mail often !

My response:

I always did want to write a book...


You definitely hit it on the head.  I'm a practicing yogi, Chakra master, Anglophobe, and Shokushu Goukan collector.

Is the choice really just yours?  I, personally, think it takes two to decide just how much skill will be expended and in what direction.  "Innate" skill...you've been skilled at it since birth?  What exactly makes someone worthy or receiving the tutelage of a descendant of Kamasutra...And I'm more a Popular Science subscriber than Playgirl...plus why pay for it when you can get it free allll over the internet?

For 2**, I'm not too worldly wise, more like too wise-assed.  But yes, I'm probably far less horny, though I don't know how horny the average white American girl is...

I charge a ridiculous amount of money because I can.  And I might, maybe, possibly, make for an exciting lunch time "adventure", of course that depends on what you mean by adventure.

As far as pics go, I'd say it goes two ways.  As the delicate, defenseless, female I should be the one more concerned about who I MIGHT be able to agree to meet.  If you'd like me to consider sending a picture, I would first like two of you.  Yes, two, because one is never really enough to tell.  And in return, I'll send two of me. ...