Email O'Clock

There's a magical hour... where the emails start to pour in to our mailbox, and make our phones, laptops, and ipads make that little ringing noise.... For a moment, you imagine who it could be sending you an email.... and then you hope for who you'd like it to be.... and for a fleeting moment, you even further dream about what it might say. Then you actually pick up the phone, check your email and realize it's that catalogue where you ordered your long underwear sending you an exclusive offer with another purchase.... it is soon followed by other similar emails, that quickly head to spam town....

Should I DELETE CONTACT? I swear just having it on my iphone is slowly starting to drive me crazy. Should I tear up that business card? Just knowing that it is in my wallet is making me nervous!!! WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?? We are surrounded by bright signs, especially in Tokyo, cute mascots, clever commercials and advertisements, maps that can locate us via satellite..... These signs and maps tell us where we are, what to buy, how to feel...And yet, deciphering the simple nuances of human interaction can be completely and utterly impossible. When did living in a world where technology and communication is so easy did trying to understand people become so hard? I guess if Apple could figure out an upgrade, or app, or new device that would read minds, my love life, or lack thereof could be understood a little better!

He told me that he thought I had moved on to someone else. I told him that I lived in Japan. It's not that he was a default... Its just that between work, and life, and a huge language barrier, the odds are definitely not exactly in my favor. They say it takes two to tango. Well, this is true, but at some point, it does become blatantly obvious that the accordionist has gone home, the club is dark, and I am left standing alone in a fabulous tango dress with only the faint memory of a dance by the worn out wooden floor beneath my feet. You can't tango with someone who's not even there in the first place.

From what I could tell, the night went extremely well. Hands were held, darts were thrown, drinks were had, pictures were shared, dancing was danced, and the night ended as it should have (or well, should have if we wanted to get caught misbehaving downstairs by his roommate) And in the morning.... It was a rush for the door, a quick kiss goodbye, a very hungover walk to the train hoping to God that I had enough on my suica to get home....and the slight impression that I may not see him again for another three months if ever. Do I really want to be that girl? Not really. Do I have much of a choice? Kind of...

Several back and forth meaningless texts later inititated by the both of us, I have come to realize that my call of duty was his call of booty! I mean, i know North Korea ans South Korea are on the brink of war, but was he seiously falling off the face of my earth again?? He did wish me a Happy Thanksgiving via MMS. He hoped that my turkey was delicious. THANKS! What is THAT supposed to mean? Have a nice life, I'll call you in three more months and see if you will meet up with me again? Or does it just mean that he really wishes me a great Thanksgiving, and that my turkey is delicious?. Well, it was.... And so was the stuffing, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, and pumpkin pie. And you would had known that if you had made some sort of an effort to call and ask..... Malone, tango party of one?

Friday turned out to be a saucy night. A very soy saucy night. Moving on from the front lines with my top gun, I got my nails done in Ginza and headed out with the single ladies of work. We were bar hopping like rabbits.... We finally found a place to stay a while, and the crowd seemed fun. The DJ was playing all of my requests, and it turns out the owner was not only hot, but wanted to buy us free bevies. (shots, I would greatly regret the next morning) a group of friends we dancing beside us, and one thing led to another and I was talking to a very unexpected gut who was totally not my type. I was having a very Charlotte York/harry Goldenblatt moment and decided to go for it. He was funny.... Well dressed.....spoke perfect English.... And was singing all of the music at the top of his lungs.... (karaoke??) and it turns out, he has some relation to a very famous soy sauce company.... Converstaions were had, cards were exchanged, phone numbers were input, a night out to dinner was offered, and kisses were exchanged (not sure who initiated that....and it could have very well been me)

It's probably a good thing I didn't discuss my loathing of seafood....sushi, etc... And my rare need for soy sauce.

And now, the card and contact sit taking up space in my wallet and the memory of my phone slowly taunting me while the little devil on my shoulder keeps whispering, "he's never going to call ( sinister laugh)" and the little angel on the other side pleads for me to not even think those thoughts in the worry that the universe may listen....