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Published: February 12th 2006
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At the Izakaya
Animated conversations over dinner. And Alex. Wow, I am getting old. I spent most of today (Sunday, Feb. 12) lying in bed with one of the worst hang-overs in recent memory. Ouch. I was in such an unfortunate state because last night was a birthday party for one of our JET friends. The evening started with dinner at a local izakaya (a Japanese style pub which offers a variety of foods and alcohols). The food was pretty good, much better than I expected for izakaya fare I must say, and the beer was cheap. 400 yen for a mug is pretty darn good in this country. That’d be about 4 bucks CN, by the way. Given the price, I naturally downed as many as I could in the time I had.
From the izakaya we moved our party to the Hello Kitty Karaoke House. Yes, this place exists. I am not making it up. It is actually a chain, so you can find them all over Japan, just like Hello Kitty tea shops. That sickeningly cute cat’s endemic. Anyway, I’m sure mostly everyone is familiar with my previous tales of karaoke excursions, and I can assure you that this one consisted of more of the same:
At the Izakaya
I blame these two, Alex and Angela, for my unfortunate drinking escapades. Not that they forced drinks on me; rather, it was more of a subconcious pressure to keep pace with them. Young whipper-snappers. Angela's three fingered salute is an Ehime variation on the popular peace sign seen in absolutely every photo taken in Japan. all-you-can-drink-and-all-you-can-sing. And as with previous karaoke nights, this one was jolly good fun. The beer never stopped flowing and the hits kept coming. I performed a heartfelt rendition of I Was Made For Loving You which left the audience in tears. That’s tears of joy and passion, not tears of agony, thank you very much. Brian Benoit of Montreal also shined with his rendition of Love Shack. Really, with all the singing talent we JETs develop in the karaoke room over the duration of our Japan stay, perhaps our post-JET plans should include singing careers. Or at least auditioning for Whatever-Country-We-Come-From Idol.
After karaoke a few of us went for a late night run to Churi for falafel and following that I must have gotten home somehow because my next memory after leaving Churi was waking up today. However, given the state I was in when I woke up, it might have been better to forget that too. I was absolutely wretched. I mean, I got up, poured a glass of OJ and settled on the sofa for some therapeutic Xbox. It quickly became apparent, however, that I would not be waiting out this hang-over while playing Xbox, so
Hello Kitty Karaoke
It's karaoke time. For your information, the gals don't always dress this way. The theme for the evening was "Dress Japanese." You may doubt that sensible people would wear this stuff, but I swear on my collection of Ultimate Spiderman comics that I saw a woman at the izakaya dressed almost exactly like Miren (with the beer soaked cloth)except the woman's shirt was green and her dress beige plaid. I conceded defeat to the evil forces of the Vigorian Empire (I’ll get you next time) and returned to bed. Too drunk to play Xbox. Now that is sad.
It occurred to me then, as I was lying in bed, wallowing in self-pity, that it’s a good thing I don’t have too many nights like I had last night anymore. This in turn led me to the realization that, oh my god, I’m getting old. There used to be a time when I could go out Thursday night, Friday night, Saturday night and even Sunday night if it was a long weekend, have some drinks and then wake up the next morning fresh as a flower. Where have those days gone? So much for my delusions that I can still party like I’m twenty five. I went out for one evening and it’s taken me nearly a whole day to recover. Yes, nearly the whole day. When I eventually woke up again at around 4 in the afternoon, I was feeling somewhat improved but still a little crook. Not wanting to spend the entire day in bed, I decided I was well enough to take some decisive action toward curing my hang-over. So I went to Craunchy McRotten’s. There’s nothing like greasy food to help with that post-party queasiness, and Craunchy McRotten’s just happened to be the closest place that could serve me up a heaping portion of grease the quickest.
I took my bag of hang-over medicine home and sprawled out on the couch once more. I put on that classic of modern cinema Alien Vs. Predator and let the greasy burgers and fries work their magic. By the time the movie had worked up to its gripping conclusion, I was finally, finally feeling like an almost normal human being again. At last, I could focus my attention on the urgent matters of the day. The evil Vigorian Empire would have their maniacal claws full now.
Still though, I can’t help but feel incredibly stupid for having wasted a whole day nursing a hang-over. One day. That’s pretty significant. Some people say that when you die, you see your entire life played out before you like a movie (hopefully when that happens, it will be infinitely better than Alien Vs. Predator). I don’t know who these people are, or where they get their knowledge of the afterlife from (did they go and come back?), but assuming for a moment that they’re right, when I’m looking back on my life, Sunday, February 12, 2006 is going to stand out as a real eyesore. Almost a whole day in bed. And when I wasn’t in bed, I was too ill to do anything above and beyond playing Xbox and writing emails. There are any number of other, more preferable, ways this one day could have played out instead so that it wouldn’t be such a cause for embarrassment during the screening of my life’s movie. I could have gone to the Oyster Festival out on Miyajima with Anne and Chad; I could have gone to the gym with Ryan; I could have tossed the Frisbee around with Ben. But all these are just “could haves” and not actualities. And it is, of course, all my own doing. I tried to party like I was younger than I am; like I was still a fledgling twenty five year old. This lifestyle of partying and drinking and carrying on, sure it’s fun and all, but spending today as I did has really given me pause to consider that maybe I’m not cut out for it anymore. I’ll tell you one thing for certain, it will definitely be a long time before I go out and have another wild night like last night. I can’t see me doing anything as stupid as I did last night until, oh, say next weekend at the earliest.
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kelsey
non-member comment
ummmm
but you didn't write me an email! so is it my time for ummm crazy "fun"?