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Blowing Kisses to the Wind

There's this one kid in one of my sophomore classes--section C--who is so totally in love with me it makes me wanna love me. I don't think I ever got around to writing about him before, but he's really quite hot, he's build quite nicely, and--SHOCKING!--he's actually quite taller than I am. We had the kids work on their speeches during class last week and when I got around to his side of the room, he rolled up his sleeves, flexed his awesome arms at me and sang to me, smiling with these amazing teeth. I mean, the kid has it for me bad. He was freaking serenading me in class. How cool is that?

Then today, I was teaching the kids tongue-twisters and I was saying them really quickly (I'm rather good at tongue-twisters, heh heh) and everybody started hooting and cheering for me and my little fanboy started blowing me kisses with both hands. I waved at him to cut it out, laughing, and when he told another kid what he had done (his seat is at the very back of the room) everybody started teasing him and he turned BRIGHT red and had to fan himself while he hid from my view behind the kid in front of him. Oooooh, I just love this job sometimes.

There was a kid in another class, too, who is always laughing when I teach, so I asked him last week, during the speech-writing time, why he laughs all the time. Get this: he fumbled around a bit and then said, "Because I love you!" My response was my oh-so-smooth, "Say, what?" and he tried to cover by saying, "冗談!冗談! Joke, joke, American joke!" I told him that it wasn't an American joke, it was too stupid. I asked if it was a Japanese joke just to rile him, but by then the class was too far gone and the conversation just got lost in the hubbub (I say hubbub because some kid used the word recently in a paper--"and there were lots of a hubbubs").

Just when I thought I had finished work last night, my teaching partner reminded me that I had a whole other handout to make for today's class. I was in the office until 7:30pm, thus making it ALMOST a 12-hour workday. Sometimes I really hate working in Japan.

Oooooh, the other day I discovered this muscat Lipton tea--it's absolutely fabulous. You just gotta love the little things in life.

There are so many more things I should totally write but they just aren't coming to mind. I need to get the internet at home--writing in my lj at work just doesn't suit my.......mood.......somehow.

<td bgcolor="#000000">Name/alias/Username:</td><td bgcolor="#DDDDAA"></td></tr><td bgcolor="#000000">Pants?</td><td bgcolor="#DDDDAA"></td></tr><td bgcolor="#000000">Phenotype</td><td bgcolor="#DDDDAA">Zebra </td></tr><td bgcolor="#000000">First part of were-name</td><td bgcolor="#DDDDAA">Leaping</td></tr><td bgcolor="#000000">Second part of were-name </td><td bgcolor="#DDDDAA">Space</td></tr><td bgcolor="#000000">Are you really a were?</td><td bgcolor="#DDDDAA">As if there was a doubt.</td></tr>
What is your were side? by Ravyn
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( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Oct. 2nd, 2003 09:23 pm (UTC)
Abs! I need your help. I'm thinking about writing a story about a guy who orders a prostitute in Tokyo. The thing is, though I know a lot ABOUT Japan, I've never been there. As someone who's actually been to Tokyo, did you ever go by any seedy areas? What were they like? What sorts of things do people do on the street in Tokyo? etc. Just a few specifics would be great, so I can throw them in and sound intelligent. ;)
Oct. 3rd, 2003 07:32 am (UTC)
Didn't go by that many seedy areas when I was in Tokyo (excepting Roppongi, of course, which is as seedy as they come without being completely life-threatening) but there was this seedy street back in Kyoto where beautiful people would stand on the side of the street, looking winsome and lonely, like they were waiting for a date who had ditched them, only they didn't know it yet, but everybody knew they were prostitutes. Prostitution is, of course, illegal here, but that's never stopped anybody before, has it? ^_^ Seedy areas are usually small back alleys, fairly dark, and it always seems to be raining, even if it's not. They're often streets where cars can't fit or aren't allowed. Along the sides of the buildings, there are bright, flashy neon signs that twinkle as they advertise "gentlemen's club" or whatever (I'm not sure how to say that in Japanese, sorry). But the middle of the street seems blacker than black, and the bright lights sparkle in the puddles in the road. There was one male prostitute I saw in a back street one time and he had the most forlorn look on his face...he was beautiful. His eyes were light grey and his hair was bleached so much it was nearly platinum. He was Japanese, and he had this look about him of the ethereal (mono-no-aware), the impermanence of things in this world. I almost wanted to go up and talk to him, and I stared at him as I passed, as I continued down the street, but had I gone up to him he would have thought that I was soliciting his services. Anyway, hope that helps.
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )

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