My Day In Hell
Sep. 30th, 2003 01:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
akujunkanActually started Saturday night in Kamitaira. Gasshou houses are good in theory, but there is a reason normal people don't live in them anymore. Centipedes falling out of the thatch and enough mold and pollen to set my sinuses off something fierce are two of the varied reasons that spring instantly to mind.
Woke up with a horrible cold this morning. I was making up worksheets on the (printer-enabled) school computer, and accidentally set the desktop wallpaper to a picture of 100 whiskey bottles (don't ask) and had a bitch of a time overriding the security protocols in order to set it back to something decent. (I don't know how I overrode them to reset the wallpaper in the first place...)
I was given some どろやき, which is a local specialty food, by a sensei. I bit into my cake, and enjoyed one heavenly bite before I noticed the pubic hair sticking out of the uneaten portion. Yup, this thing was baked right into the cake. Um...gross. I almost heaved on the spot.
Managed to douse my khaki blouse in red tomato soup.
Apparently my name is a component of a longer word meaning "vaginal lubrication." I figured this out because a group of 3年生 boys kept following me about the school, saying this word which is [syllable + my name] and laughing. Intuition and a quick trip to the slang dictionary ironed that one out.
A sensei asked me to come up with a fun English song featuring [grammar point X] for the kids to sing in class tomorrow. I thought of one immediately, spent three hours trying to download it, and finally succeeded. Typed out lyrics. Showed it to the sensei, who looked at it and said, "That's nice, but why are you showing this to me?"
"Well, I thought the kids could sing it."
"Yeah, but we aren't doing that grammar point. I need a song with [grammar point Y]."
Fast forward four and a half hours to when I'm stepping out the door. The sensei approaches me and says, "Do you have a song for tomorrow featuring" - you guessed it - "[grammar point X]?" And then she keeps me half an hour late while she agonises over not having a song.
Well, what the hell do you think the first song was, fuckwit? It isn't as though I'm typing out lyrics for shits and giggles.
Was talking to a friend on the street when an old man ran into me with his bike, (quite intentionally, as there were four foot shoulders on either side of us and no other traffic) and grabbed my ass.
So I took a walk to calm down. And another guy comes wandering down the street and gives me a very obvious once over. And then he starts following me. So I duck into Saty. And when I come out fifteen minutes later, by a different door, he's still there. And he starts following me again, fondling himself and making very obscene gestures. And then he comes up to me and starts trying to grab my tits. And asks where I live, and tells me that if I know what's good for me, I'll come home with him. Really frightening, considering I've had two guys come to my apartment in the last week looking for prostitutes (yes, JET in its infinite wisdom, houses me in the fucking red light district).
Luckily a friend was riding by on her bike, so I flagged her down and the guy ran off.
Woke up with a horrible cold this morning. I was making up worksheets on the (printer-enabled) school computer, and accidentally set the desktop wallpaper to a picture of 100 whiskey bottles (don't ask) and had a bitch of a time overriding the security protocols in order to set it back to something decent. (I don't know how I overrode them to reset the wallpaper in the first place...)
I was given some どろやき, which is a local specialty food, by a sensei. I bit into my cake, and enjoyed one heavenly bite before I noticed the pubic hair sticking out of the uneaten portion. Yup, this thing was baked right into the cake. Um...gross. I almost heaved on the spot.
Managed to douse my khaki blouse in red tomato soup.
Apparently my name is a component of a longer word meaning "vaginal lubrication." I figured this out because a group of 3年生 boys kept following me about the school, saying this word which is [syllable + my name] and laughing. Intuition and a quick trip to the slang dictionary ironed that one out.
A sensei asked me to come up with a fun English song featuring [grammar point X] for the kids to sing in class tomorrow. I thought of one immediately, spent three hours trying to download it, and finally succeeded. Typed out lyrics. Showed it to the sensei, who looked at it and said, "That's nice, but why are you showing this to me?"
"Well, I thought the kids could sing it."
"Yeah, but we aren't doing that grammar point. I need a song with [grammar point Y]."
Fast forward four and a half hours to when I'm stepping out the door. The sensei approaches me and says, "Do you have a song for tomorrow featuring" - you guessed it - "[grammar point X]?" And then she keeps me half an hour late while she agonises over not having a song.
Well, what the hell do you think the first song was, fuckwit? It isn't as though I'm typing out lyrics for shits and giggles.
Was talking to a friend on the street when an old man ran into me with his bike, (quite intentionally, as there were four foot shoulders on either side of us and no other traffic) and grabbed my ass.
So I took a walk to calm down. And another guy comes wandering down the street and gives me a very obvious once over. And then he starts following me. So I duck into Saty. And when I come out fifteen minutes later, by a different door, he's still there. And he starts following me again, fondling himself and making very obscene gestures. And then he comes up to me and starts trying to grab my tits. And asks where I live, and tells me that if I know what's good for me, I'll come home with him. Really frightening, considering I've had two guys come to my apartment in the last week looking for prostitutes (yes, JET in its infinite wisdom, houses me in the fucking red light district).
Luckily a friend was riding by on her bike, so I flagged her down and the guy ran off.
