Archive | August, 2016

Lessons in Wifeyness and Shit

5 Aug

Tonight hub felt the need to impart two important lessons on how to be the bestest Japanese wife. This post will probably be filled with shitloads of sarcasm, and possibly the word cunt.

I wasn’t doing household shit. No, he had been out drumming at an ‘obon’ (festival of the dead) thing for  his friend and mentor who passed away a few months ago. He had been drinking and quite frankly I thought he wouldn’t get home till like 11 so hearing him walk through the door at 9:20 was against my Masterchef and wine schedule.

I decided to do my wife duties by going in and pouring his drinks and sitting beside him while we watched aimless, but sometimes very entertaining, Japanese variety programs on TV. It was funny, life was grand. And then the ads come on.

There was an ad about a lonely kid who was walking home from school when another kid invited him over to play soccer. They obviously bonded extremely well in that 20 minutes they were playing soccer because when the cool kid’s dad came to pick him up in his flash new Toyota or whatever the kid invites the poor lonely kid to get a ride home – because they are now ‘friends’ right? The poor kid looks super happy, jumps in the car of an adult he has never met before, puts on his seatbelt (this probably wouldn’t happen normally in Japan) and off they go.

I say, in a kind of wondering to the universe kind of way, ‘why would they show an ad about a kid getting into the car of an adult he has never met before – the father of a kid he was not friends with until 20 minutes ago???’ Note there have been killings in Japan of parents killing their kid’s friends and this ad made me think of that – although in that instance they kids were actually friends and the killer mother was jealous of the other kid or whatever.

Hub was all like no, he should be able to get into anybody’s car. I’m like, of course he ‘should’ be able to but the world is a fuckin scary place and I don’t care how suited up and flash that dad looked he shouldn’t have gotten in the car without his parents knowing. I mean I’d go ape shit at Shou if he arrived him driven by an adult I didn’t know! Sure, I’d say thank you and sorry for the inconvenience and all that but as soon as he had driven away I’d be all over Shou about getting into the car of a stranger.

At which point hub said I always spoke down on him, like his opinion never mattered and that perhaps, just sometimes I should shut up. . .

I apologised and said maybe my Japanese, seeing as I AM NOT JAPANESE, wasn’t right and that I didn’t intend to belittle his opinions but that it was OK FOR US TO HAVE DIFFERING OPINIONS and that healthy debate was a good thing.

Do you know what he said next?

Come on?

Guess?

…. …..

Maybe sometimes I just shouldn’t have an opinion. . .

 

This is my Japanese husband, who wakes up and cooks the kids breakfast, makes their lunches for soccer … …

 

I think I snorted at that point – it was that or hit him over the head with a frypan and quite frankly my kids need a sensible mother at home not one in jail. I calmly told him it was extremely offensive to tell me not to have an opinion.

He said sorry.

AND THEN SAID, I guess these are the kinds of conversations we are just going to be having for now and for ever.. ….

All I can say is, thank god he got a blow job yesterday cause he ain’t seeing anything else for a long time….

 

Which kind of, in a round about way, brings me to the next wife lesson.

Last night I went out to dinner with some mummy friends. We got pissed and ranted about all the shit mums rant about. In the middle of this the conversation turned to soccer and four out of the five of us had kids who did, or are still doing, soccer. One kid stopped cause the family moved to Fukuoka. Another kid stopped cause he didn’t like biking through the dark tunnel to soccer practice in winter… … apparently.

I said that coach’s angry antics towards the kids was really shit lately and I didn’t know if Shou would make it to 6th grade still playing soccer – as in last week the coach, in front of our team, the opposing team and all the parents, screamed that he thought Shou was complete shit at every position and what the fuck should he do with him.

Please note that being an asshole coach is not uncommon in Japan. I think its supposed to build character or some shit.

Anyhoo, the mother of the boy that couldn’t bike through the tunnel said, you know the real reason we quit soccer was because coach was stalking me.. …. …

ME: WTF????

ME: REALLY?

ME: WTF????

ME: REALLY?

Her: Yeah, I’m really good friends with his little sister and have been going to their house since I was like 3 but damn, after he got married I started getting txts every day – with shit like … …

hey, I saw your car at the baseball field in the next town over, who were you with?

hey, let’s celebrate, just the two of us

hey, I thought you were supposed to be working today

 

It completely floored me. I have known him half me life. I know his wife. I teach their kids.

 

I am so confused. My image of him was not this at all. Another mum piped up that his image at work (like amongst the work ladies) was quite bad – he’s a bit of a playboy.

HOW could I have missed this?

I SHOULD NOT have brought this topic up with hub. I mean, hub does after all sit beside the coach at work. Hub is his boss.

He didn’t seem super surprised. He knows something.

And what did he say to me??

 

“too many opinions is a bad thing’

‘we wont last on ‘too many opinions’

 

 

….

….

watch this  space for divorce details.

 

I’m joking, kind of. I haven’t uttered the words yet but if the situation was different the words would have probably been uttered by now.

I love my husband for so many reasons, and yet just a couple of CUNTY characteristics could ruin it all. But I guess trying to suppress my opinion is a big cunting deal!!

You fucktard.

 

Thank you for putting up with the rant.

SDGH&QL

 

EDIT – I deleted this post the morning after posting it – thinking I had said too much. But then I re-read it sans beverages and fuck it, it is a pretty accurate account of what happened. I know hub would have a completely different blog post – about nagging wives and shit but damn, why can’t we have healthy debate? aka CONVERSATION about shit? Why do I have to be trying to be right all the time. FFS, sometimes I just want to speak English words so I say shit, for the sake of it.

I obviously need to watch my ‘for the sake of it’ shit. Maybe if I had an English speaking husband as well – like a reverse harlem – I’d be all good!! I wonder if the soccer coach can speak English!!!!

Gaaaahhhhhhhh

2 Aug

Bloody translation bollocks. Haven’t had that kind of bollocks for a while!! I have had translations but not accompanied by bollocks. Actually probably not so much bollocks and misunderstandings and financial jargon!

I got a request for an urgent project yesterday afternoon – to be completed by this evening. I had a look at the source document, realised it was was all financial bollocks and said that yes I could handle the requested 2,500 characters – well, I thought she said characters but it turns it she meant words. Which is fuckin stupid because you should never ask someone to do a translation on the amount of words of the target language.

Anyhoo she sends through the file and I go fuckity fuck and promptly pack a childish spaz in front of the children – who are home from summer school because hey, they had shrine dancing and soccer and shit all weekend and they’re knackered. I also have free lunch tickets for a place half an hour away so, in my head, we were all going to have a lovely outing.

This ‘in my head’ thing is a failing of parents worldwide. We should all go on outings prepared for everything possible turning to complete and utter shit, and then be pleasantly surprised when we make it home without a stranger having called child protective services or something. Although I will admit that outings are getting slightly easier in some insanity-induced form or other. I mean the kids don’t cry or puke all over my back anymore, but the shit that can spew forth from their mouth can just make you want to slide into a hole somewhere – I’m sure I tell the waitresses to seat me at the ‘gobble me up if necessary’ table.

Manners children. Where the FUCK are your FUCKIN manners. Fuck me you’ll all be in your rooms for an hour when we get home.

But this post is about fuckity fuck translations.

So I gathered together my bestest translations skills and made the kids turn on all technical devices and screens in the house so I could have a couple of hours of peace to deal with the financial jargony jargon of it all.

And then hub comes home and sees the explosion of life around him – aka, the mess that is usually cleaned up and sparkling by the time he comes home. He questions why I took the translation on at all? I said I fucked up the amount, I said yes, and now I have to suck it up and finish it so a bit of bloody …. …. rah rah – the rest was all said in my head. Including, you cunt! I may or may not have done the fingers behind his back as I walked out of the living room and back to my pit of coffee and translation.

Hub and the kids are all up in bed at 9pm. Or so I thought. Turned out Shou was still awake so I made him come in to my pit of doom and despair and do a couple of pages of summer vacay homework. You know it sucked but fuck, mum had turned into the ‘translation dragon of hell’ so really he just had to suck it up. He is now officially 4 pages over the quota he needs to turn in tomorrow – yes – when they have to go to school for class DURING THE SUMMER VACATION.

That is a completely different post, requiring photographic evidence and copious amounts of wine.

So I stayed up until midnight, wallowing in net profits and revenues and bastard cunt engineers who make supersonic antennas and shit (If somehow you are actually a bastard cunt engineer who stumbles on this blog on his/her journey to whatever then please re-read that as AWESOME engineer) and then I had to call it quits cause I was seeing double on the screen and I jest needed to snuggle up and go the fuck to sleep.

And then all of a sudden it was fuckin TODAY!! I had informed my project manager yesterday that I was incredibly sorry for misunderstanding her original email but that I was in no way capable of taking on the length of the file she sent – which was like 5,000 characters. Something I would ONLY take on in 24 hours if it was content matter I was like super familiar with, like content matter I had given birth to or something.

I am thinking I will have to somehow get through the whole thing as haven’t heard from her by like 10am.

And then I remember she’s in a different time zone. She emails me and tells me she has someone to take on what I can’t handle.

And then ensues about 13 emails of me telling her where I can get to and where the next person should start yaddah yaddah – only I haven’t taken into account that my english translations have made the page count on the source document and the document I am translating on all fucked up so yeah… …. we get our wires crossed a few times and in the end she assigns a part to the other person that starts right after the paragraph I REALLY didn’t want to do.

But hey, at least I know more about hydrogen batteries right!

 

SDGH&QL

 

 

Mrs D Is Going Without

Too much wine in rural Japan