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Could Today Have Sucked Any More?

Well, what do you think, Abby? To be honest, I say it could have sucked much more than it did, but it would've had to really try.

Let me preface this all by saying that irony is great, so long as it applies to somebody else. In reality, however, that is rarely the case. Sickeningly ironic things always happen to me. Always. That is the way of my world. (Did I mention the fact that I'm living in Satan's cum-bucket? Thought so. Allow me to emphasize this fact....) If it weren't ironic, it wouldn't be happening to me. (The only person I've met that this applies to more is Nina. When I'm around her, stuff like this never happens to me. Haven't communicated with her in nearly 7 months. Hmm....better get around to fixing that....Then again, good things started happening to her when I left, so maybe it's better for her this way....?)

Anyway, the weather report said it was supposed to rain today, so I hung my umbrella from the basket on the front of my bike (Abby has a basket on the front of her bike? what has Japan done to her?--you mean what hasn't it done) and started pedaling madly, since I was running a little behind schedule. Everything was going peachy, I passed the back of the public school near my apartment and was getting ready to turn the corner. One of my students--a first-year whose face I unfortunately can't remember 'cuz I didn't turn enough to see it--said "hello," so I half-turned and waved. Just as I turned back, my umbrella somehow miraculously (I'm using this word sarcastically) went through the spokes in my front wheel, which immediately halted the movement of the bike, sent me flying alongside the handlebars, and totaled my bike. When I say, "Totaled," I mean, "Amazingly managed to somehow wrap the fender sideways around my tire like a turd in a tortilla." Cars started coming at me in both directions, so I grabbed my backpack--which had sailed waaaay out into the middle of the street--and my umbrella--which I had pulled out of the mangled mass that was now my ex-beloved bike, and got all my shit over to the curb. I leaned my bike against the telephone pole there and desperately tried to straighten out the fender. Just then, the student who had yelled "hello" passed me and said in Japanese, "To think that just saying hello would cause this big mess." He pointed at me, laughing as he walked by. Didn't even ask if I was okay. Didn't apologize. Didn't offer to run ahead to the school and explain what had happened.

He laughed and pointed and walked on by.

Had I not been so anxious to fix my bike so I could try to get to school on time, I probably would have been embarrassed, even humiliated, by the experience. Had I been younger, had I not put up with as much shit in my life, I probably would have given a shit myself. But I actually didn't. When I told Carolyn about it later, she was livid and wanted to know who the little shit was. After hearing her opinion, I realized that, yeah, I should be angry. But I'm not. I mean, I am a bit pissed that instead of helping me, he laughed at me--ridicule is the ugliest thing I can think of and has always made me ill, literally; I'm really sensitive to stuff like that--but I can't really remember his face, so there's nothing I can do about it. I just wish that Japanese people tried a little more, y'know? I wish they cared a little more. There were a good 40 students who saw me fall; had that happened in the States, at least 1/4 would have rushed to my aid. As it was, Hannes--the exchange student from Sweden--came up and asked if I was okay. The kids he was walking with stopped and asked after he did, but he was the one who picked up my bike and tried to fix it for me. He collected my things, pointed out my bloodied arm (there was--is--a hole in my left elbow, and blood was pouring down the back of my arm; it even dripped on my pants), and offered to carry my bike for me.

I saw a Japanese woman take a horrible spill near the campus a few months ago, and I would have helped her, but I was way on the other side of the intersection, and there were cars in the way. She grabbed her bike, apologized to everybody in traffic, and went over to the side of the street. Nobody helped her. She could have gotten killed, but nobody helped. They just gasped and went on. How fucking cold. How fucking cold. There were two guys right beside her, and all they did was watch and move on.

Then again, at least they didn't point and laugh.

I carried my bike half the way to the school (the students walking with me were amazed and kept commenting about how great foreign women were 'cuz they can handle themselves) 'cuz the front wheel wouldn't budge, but my hands were all cut up from trying to straighten out the fender, so I finally gave in and let them carry it for me. Hashimoto-kun--this 2nd-year who seemed doomed to turn out bad--took it most of the way. This incident aside, he's actually turned out to be a good kid. He has special meetings with Kawai-sensei 'cuz he wants to study English more. Talk about out of the blue. I'm really thrilled, though, that he ended up being a good seed. Could have been a nightmare--was a little involved in the Takeda/Ito group--but instead took control of himself and his life and is making the best of it. That's something I admire. The students all ended up being late for class--we made it to the building just at 8:30, but they were all excused--'cuz I put in a word for them--for helping me out. Good kids (つまり better than that first-year dick).

Carried my bike around to the front of the school and headed for the health room, only to see it locked and dark--exactly like I knew it would be. Had it been any other day, Soma-sensei would have been there on time, but since I was wearing a pint of my own blood, she was late. I wrote a note for Tsu-sensei (he earned the "sensei" today), explaining why I was late. I knew he'd have it in for me when I saw him. Went back downstairs to go to the medical center, but Soma-sensei was just then walking in the door. I explained what happened, and she put this bacteria-killing stuff on it--not alcohol--that burned like she was rubbing sand in the wound. I was going to have her patch up my bleeding shin, but it wasn't worth giving a Japanese woman the satisfaction of seeing a white woman's hairy legs up close (you can only see the hair if you're right there). Besides, the big wound was my poor elbow. (Which is ironic in and of itself: back when Dad and I would go mountain-biking literally every weekend, I was so good at avoiding getting hurt that I could usually land on my feet in one way or another. I don't think I ever hit my elbows, although I scraped my shins up a few times on trees and stuff. The only time I ever got really hurt, I cracked my tailbone 'cuz the seat came up when I was flying over a tree root. Hey, every great sport has to have some war stories.) I haven't hurt my elbow since I was about 12.

Better continue this description tomorrow. It's late and I'm tired and sore. (I bruised the tops of both knees--probably on the handlebars. Like I said, it threw me from the seat.) Pictures of the pain'll come tomorrow.

G'night. ::ouch ouch::


( 3 comments — Leave a comment )
Jun. 28th, 2004 07:07 am (UTC)
Ow!! You poor thing. I want to wring that kid's neck for laughing at you. And it pisses me off so much to think about all the people going by who didn't stop to see if you were okay or help or anything. Grrr. I hope you feel better soon! Elbows are pesky places to get boo-boos because you keep bending them.
Jun. 28th, 2004 01:20 pm (UTC)
That sounds utterly painful >< I'm really sorry it happened to you. I think the humiliation of hhaving someone laugh at you is even worse than the pain itself. But I'm one of those peopel who believe that hurting someone's feelings makes you end up in a less than desired situation (if that even makes sense). I still can't believe that not one of those watching had helped you :/
Jun. 28th, 2004 03:53 pm (UTC)
wow that is HORRIBLE!!!
( 3 comments — Leave a comment )

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