Twenties to remember

As we discuss the concept of drinking alcohol, he says, “[…] What else do you do in your twenties?”

The irony of the statement misses neither of us, as we simultaneously recall that neither of us spent our own twenties drinking alcohol.

😛

I mean, it isn’t that I’m necessarily opposed to the drinking of alcohol, even for myself… I just kind of don’t do it… especially if I am going to be driving, because that, to me, requires a 0.0%.

My friends never mind it, of course, because this has made me a natural and willing designated driver, ever since my first year of college. 😛

Post-a-day 2018

Advertisements

Rocks with that?

I was reminded today of how I used to have a chunk of charcoal in my water bottle.  I haven’t thought much about that at all recently, (however, I might start doing it again) but apparently the lacrosse team I used to help coach thinks of it often.

First off, the charcoal in the water bottle is something I learned from Japan, though, via my brother before I moved there (and then it was emphasized while I lived there).  It has to do with cleaning up the water, essentially, from what I recall.  (Note: It is not drinking charcoal mixed with water.  It is a stick of this specific charcoal that sits in the water bottle, so that its pores can absorb unwanted stuff from the water.)

Anyway, so I had this stick of charcoal in my water bottle.  I carry my water bottle pretty much everywhere with me in life, so lacrosse practice was included back when I was coaching (and teaching).  Apparently, one of the girls has held on to the fact that I had ‘some kind of rocks’ in my water bottle, though I have doubts as to whether she recalls what the ‘rocks’ actually were (the stick had broken in half, so there were actually two pieces in the bottle, instead of one, but they didn’t really look like rocks).  In memory of my water bottle, in a sense, that particular girl regularly drops rocks into other people’s water bottles, telling them that it is healthy, and reminding them of how I did it.

Yes, my wonderful lifestyle rubs off in the best of ways.  😛  I guess it gives us a new meaning for ‘on the rocks’, now.

Post-a-day 2018

College Crush

After meeting up with a friend from college tonight, I have college people on my mind.  This friend mentioned, “I think you just knew more people than I did,” (I might have edited that for improved grammar, but I really don’t remember.) an idea that seems almost crazy, seeing as how he spent the full time on campus, but I only spent about half of my shortened college career on campus.  And I was placed in the introvert section of my freshman dorm… I think I was the only one who knew everyone in my hall that year.

One person in particular has come to mind as I mingle in this thought of meeting so many people: my reasonable crush.  Certainly, I had more than one little crush in college, but there was one who didn’t seem to have anything like a big red flag, when it came to the idea of practicality of the crush.  It wasn’t like I ever intended to do anything about the crush, but he was the only one who might actually have agreed to go on a date with me, had I somehow found myself asking him.

I don’t recall the absolute first time we met, but the first time we really had a one-on-one was at a regular college party.  I had gone over with some girls from my hall – we’d all ridden in one girl’s car together.  No one expected me to stay long at the party, but I usually went to the party for a little bit, chatted, danced, hung out, went home, and then went back to the party to pick up the girls whenever they were finished for the night.  On this particular night, nothing was different.  I was alcohol-free and dancing near a corner, I believe (more out of avoiding having alcohol spilled on me and drunk guys trying to rub up on me, than out of an attempt to isolate myself).  And, somehow, I found myself talking with this guy.  

He was cute in his drunken efforts to flirt and be sweet, though the fact that the efforts were drunken gave him no real chance of anything other than talking a bit with me.  Afterward, at least one of the girls commented on how he wouldn’t leave me alone at the party, we talked for so long.  I enjoyed the attention, but the drunken lining was not to my taste, so I considered little on the matter.  I was just talking to a guy half out of his wits, and he was nice.  And that was it.  I don’t remember when my crush began with him, if it was before or a while after this experience, but I never accept drunken thoughts as forms of true, desired communication, so his “interest” was easily disregarded.  And a guy drinking at a college party usually wants sex, not a girlfriend and potential wife.

But, later on, after the crush was fully settled within me, I delighted in watching him swim fabulously on the swim team, one of the cool sports at our school where everyone seemed to be just really neat people of various backgrounds.

Anyway, by the time I was visiting one of my best friends, years later, in her last semester of college (I finished college early, remember.), my crush was in full swing.  My friend informed me that my crush lived in the house just over from hers.  I had already envied her living in that particular old-style house near campus, and I only envied it more at this piece of information.

‘He showed up at the back door, and asked for butter once.’  (Or was it that she asked him for butter, and he asked her for eggs once?  I’ll have to ask her.  She might still remember.)

We both knew I was filled with teenage girl crush envy at this.  I could have possibly befriended him, if I had taken longer for college, and lived in my rightfully earned place at that awesome house.  But I didn’t, and so it goes.

Anyway, he’s hopefully more gorgeous than ever, working a great job, and making great money that allows him to clad himself in stunning attire.  I haven’t kept up, but he’s still gorgeous in my head, and I think I’m actually nervous to look him up and find out that his health and looks didn’t improve with age since college.

Post-a-day 2017

Beer & Cigarettes

Chatting with an acquaintance recently, I sort of weasled some interesting information out of him.  The weasling wasn’t exactly intentional, – I was genuinely just curious – and it was more that he opened up after I shared information about my family and friends, as well as the general population in the US.  But it was still some info that he was obviously super-hesitant to share.

It all came from our chit-chat about nothing special, and our never-ending back-and-forth about his smoking.  We both agree that smoking is something terrible, both for individuals and the world at large.  And we both agree that he is 100% addicted, and doesn’t really feel like he’ll fall to bits in his early- to mid-forties.  So we occasionally have little goofy bits of conversation, which leave us both tickled and chuckling, usually as he goes off to smoke a cigarette.

A recent little anecdote was when he asked how I was doing, since he knew I’d been sick.  I commented that I was doing alright, but was tired and had a bit of a cough still.
“Oh, me, too,” he said, accompanied with a coughing gesture.
“Oh, you’ve been sick, too?!” I express, concerned.
“No…  Because I smoke.”
We both laughed.  And coughed, actually.

And so goes our acquaintanceship, for the most part.

Recently, however, as we were chatting about the browning of his teeth, and that it does not match the obvious effort he puts into his daily physical appearance, I happened to ask him when he even started smoking.  He smiled, and got real quiet for a minute, and I wondered if he was figuring out what to say.

“Twenty,” he finally said.
I raised my eyebrows.
“When I was twenty,” he repeated.
Really?” I declared with pure doubt.  (Think SNL’s “Really” skit from Weekend Update.)

He then reminded me unnecessarily that 20 is the age in Japan for smoking, I asserted my knowledge of the fact, and we moved on.  I talked about how I remember my brother discussing his secret first cigarette, shared with siblings in the backyard as kiddos.  I described the general standard for kids in the US with their first cigarettes and first drinks of alcohol, and how everything pretty much seems to happen around high school.

Eventually, this acquaintance, with a lowered voice, suddenly had a new story.  No longer was he the follow-every-rule individual he initially (albeit hesitantly) declared himself to be.  He was, in fact, just like all the kids back home.  First drinks (beer) were at 16, and the first cigarette was not long afterward.

Now, there are two main things I pulled from this conversation.  1) I wonder if this is standard for Japan, the way it is for the US.  2) Was this bit of honesty a step towards our becoming friends, instead of just remaining mere acquaintances?

I, of course, know the answer to neither of those inquiries.  However, I have a mind to figure them out!  Plus, I’m really glad he opened up to me with the truth of it all.  Not that it’s necessarily any big deal, but with how closed off people have felt to me here, it was really refreshing to have some openness, and on something that seemed rather sensitive.  (Okay, there’s a third things that came out o f the conversation: What is the Japanese viewpoint on breaking that law of ‘No one under 20’?  How quiet he grew and how unsure he was at first about answering my casual question really make me wonder…)  😀

 

Post-a-day 2017