On mail order men and darling colleagues

Valentine's Day is a day that's always filled me with a sense of bitterness. Not that I believe in or want the Hollywood rom-com bullshit that surrounds the day, or even movie couples in general, but the idea of seeing happy couples all day kinda drives in the fact that my romantic life is an atomic wasteland at the moment. Or maybe not a wasteland, but mid-blitz maybe? Bombed out houses and blackouts, people hiding in subways and fires spreading uncontrollably. It's times like these when I like daydreaming about my future long-term boyfriend, or rather how this very hypothetical man would be in a perfect universe. The Best Case Scenario Man™. A feminist, preferably rather liberal, Godfrey Gao-lookalike who finds my quirky shit adorable rather than immature and weird, and gives me space but the right amount of affection when I need it and is good with potted plants. He'd dress impeccably, be tall and dashing, and have some sort of artistic streak and/or a huge book collection. Glasses are optional. Where do I place my order?

Because goddamn. Goddamn!

On a more serious note, the hypothetical idea of dating while in Japan is intimidating to say the least. Not just from Norimaki-san pretty much telling me to not do it lest disaster strikes in the case of serious gender inequality, but also - where the hell do you find guys in a city where you don't know all that many people, and the people you do know are mostly also male? Club scene maybe, but I think that's mostly younger people in their early 20's or so. O and I saw some people who were really hot, like 'Hey, keep me focused on something else so I don't go kidnap that dude for personal gain'-kinda hot. Where are the handsome, rugged, single guys nearing 30? In one of the many tiny artsy dive bars in Shinjuku's Golden Gai? It does seem rather promising from what I remember when going there real quick with a friend of mine.

I'm still moping around about Moonlight, in case that wasn't made clear by my little brain vacation into Hot Man Land. He keeps saying he doesn't have time to hang out, and yet he meets other friends and doesn't seem to mind telling me about it. I've been having a hard time understanding why he keeps talking to me online when he no longer calls and doesn't seem to have any will to see me. It makes me really sad. I tried talking to him about it after first thinking I wouldn't due to it being the day before Pony's birthday party, and I didn't want things to get awkward since we're both guests, but I just couldn't keep it to myself anymore. He seemed to react more with surprise than anything else, saying that he was busy (and that he was trying to maintain peace with his super conservative aunt) and the people he was meeting was not to 'hang out'. Probably school related stuff, but still. My head doesn't make much of a difference. Maybe I made a mistake bringing it up, but it's been bothering me for so long that I needed to say something. Playing it cool isn't my strong side, especially not when the rest of my life is messy as it is.

Oh well. At least I've gotten it off my chest. That should count for something. I don't have to carry it around with me anymore. I told Pony about it and she praised me for taking active charge of my emotional health, so that's something.

Speaking of something, the news of my departure seems to have gotten around work at lightning speed. SameName, one of the Swedish waitresses, her parents and Karate Husband were hanging out together (is it just me or does that sound like the beginning of a really odd joke?) before the Swedish girl would be joining us to help out, and I'm guessing it came up sometime then, because everyone (except Karate Husband, which made me a little disappointed) came over to talk about it. Even the Swedish girl's parents, believe it or not. "Wait, you're leaving? When? What will you do?" They'd probably discussed it a bit, since the Swedish girl told me that SameName has a friend who worked as an English teacher, and might be able to give me some advice or hook me up or something. The Swedish girl commented that there was plenty of work to still be had if I wanted it, but was very understanding when I said that I wanted to spend my last few weeks/months/whatever here with my friends. The whole thing was a weird mixture between awkward, sad and grateful, both pleasant and unpleasant. Work itself has been hard and tiring, but the people I work with have always been sweethearts.

I'm never working Valentine's Day at a restaurant ever again though. Words can't even describe the horror suffered at the hands of hungry couples. Game over, man. Game over!