A Wit Sharp Enough To Mash Potatoes

Train wreck in Osaka… which is the city where I intend to stay. Also, there’s the rising tensions between Japan and China due to atrocities being glazed over in some book thingy.

Damn long-term memories.

Are these warning signs to hold off going to Japan? Or is it some reassurance? I’d figure that because there has been a train crash, the appropriate action will be taken to ensure that it doesn’t happen again.

Which is a typical Government method of closing the gates well after the cows have waltzed out the paddock and trampled on your dog.

But then there’s the whole bizzo with K. So I’m supposed to entertain thoughts of being with someone when I intend to piss off in a matter of 6 or so months? Doesn’t sound like a top idea, does it?

Anyway, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, yeah? In the meantime, I’m going to torture myself with retrospective retorts to the cutting remarks made by K the other night…

(Note: parts of this conversation did not happen… well… only the parts in where I spoke. Her parts are repeated as best as I can recall. Feel free to juxtapose my responses below with “yeah, you’re right” and you get an idea of how the conversation actually went. Naturally, as I’m blatantly spouting out responses here that I wish I had said, the conversation below loses some coherence)
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Her: I can see it in your eyes that you’re putting this wall up. Obviously you don’t want to hurt me.

Me: Perhaps, but do you honestly think that I’d willingly hurt people especially after what I’ve been through? The way you’ve been keeping me at arms length makes it clearly obvious that you too have been through a lot, and are wary of getting your hopes up.

Her: Yeah, I know I’m right. When you were in the lounge room with my friends, I could see that you were far too self-conscious. You are too busy worrying about what people think of you. You should just let go. Just fucking let it go.

Me: So you think it’d be easy to simply throw away a trait that has been honed and conditioned over 27 years of my life, just because you say so? I’m afraid it isn’t that simple, deary.

Her: *satisfied look* You’re just so tense! You need to simply have fun.

Me: You make it sound like I’m totally incapable of having this said “Fun”. If I wasn’t so shy and self-conscious right now, I’d…

Her: You’re so scared of me. I can see it.

Me: So, being totally pole-axed from someone who I’ve only met twice is a normal occurrence? Besides, who the hell are you to bang on about being self conscious and scared when you seem to wear modest clothing, and hide your own insecurities behind a wall of disarmingly blunt comments?

Her: *again with a satisfied look* Well, you shouldn’t be scared (barrage of compliments flow).

Me: *blinks* Thank you (Note: I actually said that… not “yeah, you’re right”)

Her: I could tell you were apprehensive when you didn’t kiss me on the first night.

Me: Well, it didn’t feel right at the time (Note: I actually said that… not “yeah, you’re right”), but you fail to recognise that I had smoked ten thousand cigarettes that night and my breath would’ve totally killed a bull (Note: I totally wished I had said that)!

Her: You never know when the right time is, do you? You just don’t let go of your… *clicks fingers in front of my face as she notices my eyes glaze as I try futilely to grasp onto some retort* Oi! Oi! Attention back on me! (she actually did this - I’m not exaggerating) You have too many inhibitions you need to let go of.

Me: Do you think that being attracted to someone like you isn’t incredibly intimidating? Do you think I didn’t want to kiss you? Again, your self-consciousness is seeping through a bit. I’m willing to bet that you wondered why I didn’t make the first move, and it’s only after discussing the situation with your other ultra-intelligent, academic university friends that you managed to define my “psychological profile” in such an accurate and succinct manner.

Her: Well, you can’t just sit there and say “you’re right” all night, you know.

Me: I can say whatever the fuck I like, you know. I’m totally not intimidated by you at all. Honest. Really. Don’t look at me like that.

Her: Stop saying, “You’re right!”
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Well, like I said… because I’m adding things in there that I wish I had said, the conversation doesn’t make much sense, but I think you get the idea of what I’m getting at:

My wit is as blunt as a bowling ball sitting on top of another bowling ball, wrapped in bubble-wrap which is then trimmed down to get rid of the sharp corners at the edge of the sheet.

Oh, and hindsight is a marvellous thing.

But yeah, this chick so has my number down, and it’s fucking scary.