Suffering

I walked into Homei High School for the first time today. It was the third time I've walked into a high school in Japan--third time I felt the pressure of meeting a staff that could not speak English. It's not easy. This one was certainly the most difficult.

A male English teacher with strong English skills (no, it does not go hand in hand in Japan) made me feel comfortable off the bat. Then I began to feel uncomfortable. It's not that I want to be a lazy slouch in Japan, but I was warned on many message boards that one of two situations could arise. Either I could be basically ignored and unused for one year, left to my own devices, or I could be used up the wazoo until my eyes began to pop out. I quickly realized that I was a case two. I will be used and abused until I can't do anymore.

I volunteered to teach night school. Fuck. Now my 8:25 to 5:15 has turned to darkness. Fuck Fuck Fuck.

Inside the staff room, this guy (Japanese names are difficult to remember) took me on a run-thru of epic proportions. I freaked out a bit. Did I mention it's humid and on the third floor. Humid? More like a fucking swamp. I wanted to pass out--I actually tried to (impossible, like strangling oneself) in order to get out of that room. His arm touched the paper he was explaining to me and it immediately left a dark stain of dirty sweat. I looked at his hairless arm and saw it glistening. Then I saw a giant blue fan right next to us unused. I realized that no fans were on around the room. Only individuals fanning themselves with any objects they could make handy. It was explained to me that I would be responsible for formulating all lessons without the aid of a textbook. No problem, but I was crabby with the heat. MUST NOT DO THAT! MUST BE COOL! I'm reminded semi-frequently (inside my own head) that I cannot discipline students, and I have to take orders from headquarters. I've moved from boss to lemming. I'm a good lemming. Like the Sex Pistols said, "NO FEEEEEEEELINGS!"

I'll do a good job with my new position. Honestly, I really wanted a retreat from teaching and being that guy. I wanted to make music, get drunk, and write. But, instead, I'll be a Super-JET. I'll continue to teach beyond my abilities and "make a difference". No rest for the fucking wicked, I guess.

Domon-sensei continues to be my favorite person. If I could hear her say "Michael" one time per day, I'd be a happy pappy. Hmmm. How can I make that magic make sense? "My chool"--high and lovely. Dreamy almost. I'm either falling in love with her or just desperately lonely. She's the only person that speaks to me here. I told her my woes about my 8-tracks failures. She took me to the electronics store after numerous hints that I wanted to go. Japan doesn't sell anything less than 2 gig flash cards. One gig--special ordered. I told her that I really hoped it would work. For those that don't know, I put the 100 dollar 2-gig memory card in incorrectly and bent some wires. This ruined my 350 dollar piece of machinery. So, I bought another one used right before I left for 200 dollars. But, upon arrival in Japan, trying to use it, I realized that it only accepts one gig or less flash cards. This makes me wonder if the original one wasn't really broken, but simply rejecting the 2-gig flash drive. Fuck. I don't want to think about it. I just want it to work, so I can get started creating my concept album masterpiece. YOUR NECK OF THE WOODS. God, I want it to be fucking rock and folk/noise.

My favorite idea for the album is the last track. It will be called, "I'm Queer". It's a take off of the Jonathan Richman song, "I'm Straight". It's going to start as a sort of Weird Al version of the song, then dissolve into dissonance and noise. There's a guy in Akita that builds noise machines. Joey. I need to befriend him and somehow prove that I have a worthwhile project at hand. I told him about it, but I have no proof that it will be fucking amazing. Eugene Short will create!

I'm listening to Mr. Richman right now. I really love this compilation that I got of his solo stuff. God, "Tag Game" is pure bliss in an MP3. There's another one that is called "City vs. Country" that is hitting home right now. Simple and fantastic.

So, though I vowed I wouldn't do it, I started complaining about the ridiculousness of the Japanese today. It didn't last long. I was horribly hot and bothered, and I let it get the best of my better interests. Must put on the false happy face in public. "AH HAPPY TIME NOW FOR RIFE!" Should put it on a t-shirt.

"I should live in the ancient world, if I do what I want to do!" Jonathan Richman has it figured out. Or rather, he doesn't, but he has figured out the battle. I want the city, but I want the country, too.