My kids classes are over. Here are some pictures. Yup.

St. Patricks Day Weekend. The stuff dreams are made of.

Friday night: Ladies' Pillow Fight Competition at the King George Pub here in Omiya.

Ready to kick some ass.

A shot before the match. I was introduced as "The Boston Strangler."

The winner was decided by judges after two thirty-second matches. I won the first match but lost the second after getting points deducted for my headlock maneuver.

Liza vs. some girl from Australia

Look at George's face.

The aftermath of the final bout

The winner: Stacy from Canada. We were robbed.

Me and George and some dudes. The guy on the left said he was from Andover. Small world.

Saturday: I dragged myself to work all day, then went directly to Marguerite's to get ready. From there, I accompanied a whole herd of people to a couple bars in Shibuya, then spent the night at an indie rock club called "Hard To Explain."
No pictures, unfortunately.

Five AM ramen, four hours of sleep, and then...

Sunday: I wake up on Marguerite's couch, and go unshowered and unchanged to the St. Patricks Day parade in Harajuku.

With Marguerite and Jessica
Since I wasn't wearing green, Marguerite lent me one of her shirts. It proclaimed "I Can't Believe It's Yogurt!" I believe she got it in Thailand.

My hairdo from the night before had somehow miraculously survived.

Kana and Mahon. Mahon (who is legitimately full-on Irish) taught me the Official St. Patricks Day Song, which can be performed by swinging one arm, stomping one foot, and bellowing, "Saaaaaint Pat-ricks Day!" We were doing this under a foot bridge when two Japanese passersby whipped out cameras and took pictures of us.

Kirk and his son Ben.

Me and Vanessa

A few street beers later, and we were pretty obnoxious. Vanessa did her part by trying to high-five everyone in the parade as they walked by.

After the parade, we wanted (nay, NEEDED) to go to an Irish pub, so we got on the Yamanote Line train headed for Shinjuku. And what to my wondering eyes should appear:

Then we were at The Dubliner:

Marguerite and I with green beer and a child (Ben).

Me and Kana

I heard bagpipes, and then a dissonant "aaaaaaAAAAAAAAaaaaaaAAAA" into a live microphone. I turned around and there was little Ben. They let him "sing" throughout the whole song. It was very cute.

Me, Vanessa, and Cloudy Bongwater. Yes, that is actually his legal name.
I am not shitting you.

And that, kids, was my St. Patricks Day Weekend.

Oh, Japan.

I'm in Kawagoe School, just about to start the junior-high-school students' "interviews" that will end their year-or-so of extracurricular English study.

[This is largely a joke, I'm lucky if these guys are half-conscious during that forty minutes a month when I special-guest-visit their class to repeatedly drill them with such gems as "WHAT SPORTS CAN YOU PLAY?" and "WHAT SPORTS CAN YOU NOT PLAY?"]

So I'm waiting in the lobby for Steve The Kids Coordinator (real name Mitsuhiro) who will be scoring the interviews. A large group of adult students are hanging around as they always do, stuffing their faces with chocolate and parroting whatever bizarre thing Peacock decided to teach them that day.

Me: "Hey Steve, are you ready?"
Steve: "Almosto."
"Where are you going?" asks one of the students in the lobby.

And with a totally straight face, I say, "Oh, me and Steve are gonna go to the back room and kiss."
"EEHHHHHHHH?" Everybody whirls around. I'm nodding seriously and beckoning for Steve, and Steve has turned beet red and is laughing the kind of nervous laugh that can only mean he has soiled himself.

God, it's so easy.


addendum: 3000 page visits! I'd like to thank my mom, all my stalkers, and King George of The King George Pub (where I will be participating DESTROYING in a ladies' pillow fight competition this Friday)

Today, I threw imaginary hot dogs at children.
What did YOU do at work?

Now that I am a College Graduate, my penchant for procrastination has spilled over to other aspects of my life.

I live and work in Tokyo now, and I'm finding that "a good night's sleep" is something that can be procrastinated much like the homework of old. But why would I continue to put this off after three nights of marathon partying? My Saturday at work was entirely spent miserably pining for my bed, and yet...

Two hours after punching out, I'm with Adam in Whoretown, Ikeburuko, skipping past brothels with names like VIOLENCE, and prominently displayed "Japanese Only" signs in windows and doorways. Still clad in the "teacher costume" of a nice, sensible sweater and heels, Adventure Christine had won yet another battle against Responsible Adult Christine.

First it was "Los Cabos," home of guacamole, beer served in metal cups, gigantic tequila shots, and a customer satisfaction survey that we mostly filled in with chickenscratch Japanese reading "I don't understand this question. Because I'm a foreigner."
Then Adam and I wandered into a filthy little mom-and-pop yakitori shack. The place could have possibly been the only surviving remnant of Old Ikeburuko, which I imagine was the same haven for gangsters and prostitutes only with fewer spastically flashing lights. As far as I could tell, nothing about this chicken-and-beer dive had been bought (or washed) within the last twenty years. I was particularly charmed by the dirty and broken microphone dangling from the ceiling, used by the old lady to yell invitations at passersby.
Lastly, fooled by an enticing street sign, we trekked up an unnaturally steep flight of stairs to a bar called simply "T's," only to find that it was a tiny dark room with an excessively slick bartender and a small TV which played only "The Bodyguard" starring Whitney Houston.
When life gives you lemons, you order drinks with names like "Exorcist." But the glowing blue martini-glass concoction I held teetering in my hand did nothing to purge my demons. Neither did the 45-dollar bill that came sliding across the bar after a total of four drinks.

Tokyo, you are a sneaky bitch.

I keep telling myself I only have a few more weeks before I'm liberated from the Massive Injustice that is the Sunday morning shift.

MY THURSDAY IN PHOTOS

I started off the day by wandering around Ueno Zoo by myself.

The zoo closes at 5, so they started playing the "get the fuck out" music over the sound system at 4:30. At this point, all the animals VANISHED. Lions and tigers and bears, every pen magically became empty at the stroke of 4:30. WTF.

So I wandered around this nearby shrine until an old Japanese guy approached me looking for a free English lesson. "May I talk?" I told him I was in a hurry and booked it out of there.

Flowers on the trees on March 1st. Crazy.

To the pub!

My roommates, Liza and Jessica

"The Flaming Dr. Pepper"

To finish up the night, we bought some three-dollar bottles of "Black Nikka Whiskey" at the convenience store, then headed to Karaoke-kan for cheap "soft drinks only" karaoke till 4.

What a mess.