Xposted

Vox, my other blog, is closing down. So I've been trying to move some of my writings over before they do on Thursday. So if anyone actually reads this, good luck.

Wendell

Everyone Else

And yet
And yet everyone else gets what they want.

I'll see to it

I'll see to it that everyone else gets what they want
I'll see to it, and yet
I cannot see what I want.
What is it that I want?

Maybe these five years back.
Five years is a long time
Five years is a long time to see that everyone else gets what they want and yet
I still cannot see the point
The point

The point where everything feels home
And everyone else feels like home

And yet I am writing from your bed, alone

You made your bed
You made your bed now I lie in it
And yet
And yet being home is the only time where things make sense
Because I can sense through blue eyes

This is the last sleepover because of everyone else

And yet I can see the paths ahead of me and everyone else
The paths are made of dust and clay that forms
Clay that forms from
The clay is made of vermilion dust, two parts dust one part tears

Tears from blue eyes

Not shed over you
Not over you yet (not over you, yet)

A record to chant, a mantra on repeat
These tears are not shed over your skin
I can shed your skin
And yet
And yet the red dust is comprised of human skin
So dust is a reminder of everyone else
And yet everyone else gets what they want, and with green eyes I'll see to it that everyone else...

Future Tense

One day
Like planets we'll align

One day
Like aliens, we'll tell tales in strange sounds
Resembling the languages we've amassed.

One day
I'll joke in Japanese
You'll soliloquize in Serbian
You both will sojourn in Spanish
We'll feebly fling our French about
You can speak a thousand words through the language of Canon and Nikon
Both of you will silently dream in a Sapphic language on the couch in the middle of the party
You'll read from your book of heart and teach us the language of hope that kept you going
Until you finally found that happy ending you deserved.

We eagerly await the sequel.

And we'll all be a little more fluent in life than we were those summers ago when we spoke Wednesday Dance

When laughter was as abundant as the white hairs, and just as sweet as the girl who left them behind.
Just as sweet as Muscato d'Oro, pork tenderloin, chocolate-chip cookies baked at midnight.
Just as sweet as No-Bake Cheesecake when the oven was not an option.

A love deeper than seven layers of deliciousness

And even if we never raise our voices to the wind (strong as it is in both Chicago and Hamamatsu)
if we never hear those familiar voices again
We've a love that cannot be found in je t'aime or ai shiteru
And my heart'll explode a thousand times when I see you.

One day
Like the stars we are that shine so brightly, we will align.
And we'll realize how the universe wasn't created in a day
but in an everlasting bond that outlasts contractions and goodbyes.

One day we'll shine again together.

Rehashing- a year old letter

Why am I single?

Because I am. I mean, several things can contribute to why I am single in Japan. I'm not yet comfortable of going out alone here. My self-confidence in public is entwined with making sure my company is happy and entertained. Without friends to go out with, I turn into a shy wallflower. And I study Japanese as often as I do to try to ease the tension I feel when I do have to interact with someone and I cannot get around the language barrier. As you know, I have an on-going love affair with words. I flirt with words, I have intercourse with discourse, and I protect my heart with the barbs of bards. So if I cannot express myself, I feel like nothing, like a child. It's therefore been easier to stay at home, prepare lessons, study even harder, and wait until the planets align when my friends do actually get together and we do go out exploring. I assure you I am making my situation sound far more hopeless than it is.

The first time I fell in love, it took our mutual breakup to realize I was letting go of something wonderful, solely out of pride. When we were together, I took her for granted, putting my studies ahead of her far too often. The worst thing is that I could not find the words, in any of the languages we spoke together, to tell her how I felt. I think I was afraid of scaring her off with love, so instead I let her go with apathy. I can see the stupidity in hindsight, but at the time I was so concerned with making a name for myself in the university theatre that I not only neglected her, but my own identity. And I repented for that by not dating for a while (and I made a personal vow to not eat McDonald's which is a strange story in itself, but five years later I've kept the commitment).

The year after I spent trying to find perspective. I worked on my feelings as well as my sexual identity. When I was little, I found it difficult to make male friends. Obviously, this led to accusations that are too grand for a fourth grader in the early nineties to fully understand. When gay was written in large letters in my yearbook, I didn't quite know why, but I knew that it was something to be ashamed about. And my little brother learned early that the one way he could upset me was using the word faggot. I was assigned a sexual identity before I had a chance to review it. And I honestly locked away the notion that there could be any truth to it. I had several crushes on girls, and I remember looking across classrooms at girls who looked back and it never amounted to anything major. But, at a boarding school at the age of 16, I got a chance to explore "the dark side" as I liked to joke. I managed to escape with my virginity intact, but I still felt guilty for the minor transgressions I committed. I would wake up in the middle of the night and pray that I could learn to control this deviance.

My sophomore year, I met her and there could not have been a better way to begin my ascent into adulthood. She laughed when she met the object of my transgression at an awkward dinner and we agreed that she was an upgrade. Because she was my first, I had to wrestle with what love meant, but that fight ended months too late with both of us losing. By then, I had moved to England and told myself I would start confronting past demons. And in my year abroad, away from judgment and repression, I went to my first gay club. I started getting comfortable with the idea that my future may be shared with a woman or man. In an ironic twist of events, I spent the majority of the year lusting after a lesbian friend. I learned about the beauty of marijuana, threesomes, and bathroom blow jobs. I also learned that none of those things solely define who I am as a person, but they make stories like these even livelier.

After that year, I came home, started to see people, started to open up again, and there were a few bad moments with some really shitty people (pardon the expression) and some really good ones with people I will never forget. I can also see the times when my fears stood in the way. My fear of letting go of the mythical love that I finally found and placed so high above everyone else. I know now that love will never die, but it is a myth stuck in time and we are two different people. Maybe one day we might find that these two different people are just as compatible, but for the most part I have moved on from who those people used to be.

I am blessed with incredibly young parents. Through a lot of the mistakes they made while raising me, especially during their divorce and how they would sometimes put me in the middle, I learned a lot about relationships at a young age. Most importantly, I learned that my parents are people too who want and need and have the same desires I do. From my mom, who I credit with being the most humble, the wisest person in my life, I learned that relationships only work when two stable, honest people get together. You have to know yourself and be happy in your own skin before trying to add someone else to the equation. A relationship is not a crutch, nor will it save anyone from insecurity.

I've been convinced by past flings that my emotional maturity is more evolved than expected of many of my fellow twentysomethings, and sometimes that scares people off. I get frustrated when I meet people who don't understand that the best thing you can do for a relationship is to be true to yourself as well as to the other person. If someone tells me that all they want is sex, if I am feeling the same way I will offer just that and not have the illusion of anything more. If someone admits to seeking a relationship, the same process takes place. But being able to communicate is extremely important to me as a person, an artist, and a lover. It is also something I struggle with. Hiding behind words not only stops me from getting hurt, but stops me from leaping headfirst into love.

Which leads me back to the question that gave birth to this rant: Why am I single? Because I am confident enough to not be afraid of being single and not confident enough to overlook my insecurity with needing the perfect words and taking a chance. But I can honestly say that I am happy to be in my own skin and it will be a wonderful bonus, not a necessity, to have someone touch that skin and love the person inside.

The first time I ever had to turn down a job

Good evening,


I apologize for making you wait for my answer. While I am grateful for the offer, I am afraid I must decline at this time.

Since moving to Fujisawa, I have realized that I moved from an unstable school to one that is far more secure. So I am not as desperate for a new job as I was when we first began the application process. Also, while my current job pays slightly less than the one you are offering, it comes without the high cost of living in Tokyo. Therefore, after weighing my options: I can stay with this company for longer than 3 months without worry, I am making more money (after rent and utilities), working fewer hours in a safe city, and I'll get 10 paid vacation days in October. I think I'd be a fool to leave this behind just to be a few minutes closer to the heart of Tokyo, which I have direct access to from my local station.

I sincerely wish you all the best in your efforts to recruit new teachers. You have been nothing but cordial and professional and I appreciate your thoroughness in this matter. I am indeed sorry that I must turn down your offer. I was earnestly looking forward to the opportunity; however, the incentives just are not there for me to leave my current employer.

All my best,

Wendell T. Harrison

Long overwritten rant about health care

I have no idea if this makes sense, but I am tired of holding on to it. So, here goes:

Part 1: The Bipartisan Slumber Party 2010

Few things on television keep my interest as long as policy debates. To watch the President of the United States and members of Congress openly talk about the issue of health care today actually have a discussion (for the most part) is so much more heartwarming in my opinion than the constant talking points we see every day in the media. It isn’t that the talking points were not present; however, if you actually filter through those, and the useless cable news outlets that all made the same blind observation that there was no progress being made, there were several good points on both sides.

As a true blue Democrat, I have become increasingly frustrated with this entire process of health care reform. At the onset of this debate, I remember wishing that Obama had that same arrogance that Bush did- which is hilarious, because people call Obama arrogant all day long without ever acknowledging the hubris of his predecessor. But, knowing that “arrogant” is codeword for something altogether different, I digress. I wished that he would take the lead and basically tell Congress we will have health reform, it will have the public option, it will be mandated, I am president hear me roar, etc, etc. Yet, he did not. And for his respect toward Congress to see this thing through, he gets called every name under the sun. So I will give him praise for not personally pushing this issue at the beginning. However, at this juncture, I am sure we can all agree it’s time for the only adult in the room to step in and stop the children from fighting.

The summit was great for the American people in several ways. First, it was a good education in health care reform policies. As I took copious notes, I learned how exactly high-risk pools work. And after doing a little additional research, I agree with my blue brethren that high-risk pools only benefit people like me: young, healthy, and single. However, the elderly and the sick in this country already account for the majority of medical care dollars in this country, why should people like me ask them to shell out even more.

When I first heard the GOP state that each step should be done incrementally, and not comprehensively, I listened. But the argument does fall apart when you remember that insurance companies will look out for their profits. If you, for example, get rid of the preexisting condition policy, every single premium will rise without oversight to keep it in check. The Democrat plan, in my opinion, is not strong enough because it lacks the public option. How can you assure the people that the insurance companies won’t raise premiums if the American people are gridlocked into the plans that monopolize certain markets? HHS Secretary Kathleen Sebellius made a wonderful point by stating 95% of people in metropolitan areas have very few insurance options and those options do not compete with each other for low prices.

One solution to this problem, first mentioned at length by Representative Marsha Blackburn of Tennessee, is to open the markets across state lines. However, when President Obama said he liked that idea, she seemed to instantly refute it as a plausible solution. And much of the tone was like this all morning (early morning for me in Japan). As Democrats shared personal stories, Republicans kept chanting their mantra of “start over.” Some people actually made wonderful cohesive points that would really add up to a wonderful composite bipartisan bill. But again, instead of dropping their slogan, the GOP kept invoking the name of the American people saying the American people want Congress to start over. I disagree: the American people just want this issue done with. And the majority of the American people want some form of reform passed, even if it is just Health Savings Accounts, which are a terrible idea for those of us below the middle class line.

Reporters all day have chimed that because there was no forward progress, the Republics “win” the summit as if such a thing were possible. I actually have to disagree with that statement on the basis that this bill will probably be passed through reconciliation. Remember that reconciliation, the budgetary maneuver to combine two already-passed bills, would only need a simple 51 majority in the Senate. Also remember that of the past 22 times the process was used, 16 of those scenarios were by the GOP. No strangers to the reconciliation, they should have used this summit to make sure they had substantive policies in the final bill, and not just gimmicky catch phrases.

Part 2: Religiosity

Here’s something I do not understand: Christians. For all the talk Christians do about their god, and how they personally interpret what their god would say or do in a situation, they sometimes seem to forget the basic tenets of their religion. I am not going into a biblical argument, one where we trade verse back in forth. You tell me gays should be stoned, and I will tell you that people who eat shrimp, get tattoos, and breast implants (Carrie Prejean, I am looking at you) are in the same boat. I will remind you that fathers should kill their sons and rape their daughters and the behest of blazing bushes. Almost everything in the book can be manipulated to fit another person’s personal and political belief. But what cannot be misconstrued is what is said about being “Christian” toward ones neighbors and how the rich cannot make it into heaven. That is not to say I think rich people are soulless or do not deserve their eternal paradise. I am Christian at my core so I do not believe I have the power to judge anyone or say where anyone will end up. I know I do some things that completely go against what is written in the book. But I can honestly say that if we cannot support something that fundamentally gives our neighbors a hand in ensuring a healthier lifestyle, then why would I say no? If I were in America, this would clearly be an issue where I’d be losing money, but I believe my sacrifice is worth the country having a safety net for 30 million more Americans (and all Americans if the public option is actually implemented). But, it is getting harder and harder to see the line between Christian, Conservative, Republican, and just effing crazy.


Part 3: A Few Numbers

On the exact date of June 10, 2010, I lost the marginal amount of health insurance I was allowed under my mother’s employee-based insurance scheme. As an adult of the age 25, I was forced out into the world wholly uninsured, and like my contemporaries I was not overly concerned about it. The thing is, for the youth of our nation, health is something we can worry about when we are older. Those of us working full-time but making about $30,000 a year can’t afford the premiums and deductibles which increase each and every year. And I approach this problem as a single male. Consider a family of four with a single mother working hard to bring in $50,000 a year.

The cost of insurance is simply too high for most part-time workers to pay out-of-pocket. This is not a guess, this is substantiated by the Kaiser Family Foundation (KFF) that since 1999 premiums have risen 119%. Meanwhile, wages have barely made such an increase. According to the Census Bureau, the average income for families was $75,709 (when inflated to 2006 values). In 2006, that number was $77,315. That’s little more than a 2% increase. Now, a person making $70,000 a year working for a company more than likely has employer-based coverage and may be wondering why they should care about government health care reform. Such a person believes that as long as they are covered, why should they be concerned? Insurance is named as such for a reason: it insures that if there is a life emergency you have a safety net. But what measures are in place to ensure you will not be suddenly dropped by your insurance company for any number of rescission-related reasons?

Part 4: The Birth of Socialist Wendell

In 2007, I realized that when my nephew told me my breath was stinky, it wasn’t a joke. That convinced me to see a professional. After talking with the dentist, he told me about gingivitis as well as advanced tooth decay causing the smell and that the best option would be to remove the tooth- actually, six teeth (including four wisdom teeth). Not knowing any better, I allowed the professional to do his thing and here I am with more room in my mouth and my wallet, still paying Care Credit for the $1,000 procedure, with a 25% APR and an extremely steep $39 late fee penalty. Neither of my two part-time jobs at the time provided me with insurance and my mother’s insurance only covered the check up/ cleaning and a percentage of the periodontal treatment. So I had to get an insurance credit card and two years later, I am still trying to pay off this bill. Needless to say, I was not eager to see another dentist for as long as possible- until the night here in Japan when I woke up practically howling with a toothache. After weeks of a mild toothache, and pieces of my teeth breaking off at awkward moments, I decided that very night I could not take it anymore. Along with a close friend who speaks Japanese, I went to Hamamatsu City Hall and signed up on the spot for National Health Insurance. The date was September 5, 2009, or as I like to call it: “Day 1 of Socialist Wendell.” I have written about the matter before at length, but allow me to summarize Japanese Health Care.

If you do not know anything about health care in Japan, you actually know a significant amount more than Republican Congresswoman Michele Bachmann of Minnesota’s 6th district. Health care in Japan is mandatory. But enrollment in the Japanese National Health program is not compulsory. Like in America, one has the options of either getting private insurance or becoming insured through their employer’s preferred insurance company. My company, for example, provides the bare minimum of traveler’s insurance which is considered “catastrophic coverage” because it kicks in after an accident. And to make matters worse, it works through reimbursement. It does not include preventative options, nor does it cover trips to the dentist, ENT, or OBGYN. To be fair, this is more than I coverage I received from all but one of my employers in America.

However, unlike America, there is another option for those who cannot afford private insurance, out-of-pocket-costs, or whose employers are not so benevolent. This option is manifests itself in two forms:

Shakai Kenkou Hoken (Company-Provided Insurance)
Similar to employer insurance, full-time employees can choose this option and have a percentage of their monthly premiums come directly from their paychecks. The company takes the brunt of the bills, and the employee therefore only pays 20% of their medical treatments.

Kokumin Kenkou Hoken (National Health Insurance)
The government pays 70% of your treatment costs and charges the consumer a premium that is a percentage of your annual income. The employee pays 30% upfront and most students, the unemployed and self-employed enjoy this policy.

I have the latter, National Health. As of March 30, 2010, I will have paid off my first year of insurance (it’s prorated from the date you enter Japan) at a cost of ¥69,600 ($760.53). I have used this insurance to pay for X-rays, a cleaning, 2 root canals and a crown treatment, which cost me about $150 out-of-pocket. Keep in mind this amount is 30%, which is far better than $485 I could have paid all at once. The initial treatment was spread over five visits (initial visit and X-rays, root canal over two trips, insertion of the crown’s anchor, and the crown itself. And while I hated the two week waits in-between treatments, it did allow me to make sure I had the money to pay in five installments, not one lump sum as I did in America. Honestly, I don’t know which I would prefer: getting more done in one visit, or splitting the visits and costs, but I can say that I’d rather pay $700 a year and $120 for a full procedure than $700 for one treatment and no insurance to cover any subsequent treatments from any doctor, not just the dentist.

My final statement to make about all of this is “why not?” A simple analogy I can think of is related to car insurance. Yes we gripe about car insurance, and some of us dodge paying it, but we understand it is necessary for driving. Why is it difficult to think about insurance regarding our health? We pay that money in taxes regarding covering people who do not have insurance, as their emergency room bill is passed on to other Americans. And I completely believe that a society must be judged by the citizens that are the worst off. Looking at the most influential country outside of that land is a sad view, seeing that we have the means to help all Americans, but we would rather let 40,000 people die than make a progressive change. Why not? Because it is simply a shame and a dark mark on us not to do it.

What is it about the change of winter to spring that's making me feel so fragile? As if everything had hard frozen in the past few months and it's not thawing out, but breaking all around me.

My eyes melted last night. I would like to think I am a well-composed person, but yesterday it seemed as if everything in my head mashed together and presented me with some fundamental thoughts about taking control of my life. Who knew dropping my iPhone into a toilet would bring about the collapse of my confidence? Yesterday I felt like a shell of uselessness. Outside of my teaching, I really am not serving a purpose where I am. To get where I need to get means having to disappoint other people.

I have to make ripples.

Last night, as I polished off the second bottle of room temperature Japanese sake, I watched as a drop held onto the edge of the bottle. It clung on to the bottle, it's safety, what it knows. And it dangled in fear, until I shook it. It fell without ceremony into the cup and became more than itself. It became part of something more. But to do so, it had to make ripples- it had to shake things up.

That's how I feel. I'm hanging on to safety. I'm clinging to the hope that I won't have to make the jump, that someone will shake me into a decision, into the cup.

But that floating has caught up with me. I keep taking on other people's feelings and sacrificing my soul for the sake of complacency. It is not healthy and it's causing me to let everything weigh me down. It's causing me to blame other factors for my unhappiness. It's all it's fault.

When I thought my iPhone was kaput, I wanted to crawl into a cave. A small problem became an exercise in dramatic mourning. I didn't feel like talking or eating. Just complaining. Luckily for me I had someone to put up with my whining, get me out of the house and the eternal thought-loop, and give me a literal shoulder to cry on (not in public of course!).

Living here has it's clear ups and downs. My downs are always related to the same thing- having to rely on others to speak for me. I don't have my family here. I don't have my best friends here to talk through my issues, or to distract me with their awesomeness. And lately when something arises, I am acutely conscious that in a few months I will be practically alone in this area. Funny, eh. I don't want to rely on people but I will have no one to rely on here soon. And this has reduced me to inconsequential proportions.

I am an inconsequential drop. And I need to drop already. The cup's waiting.

I won't be the last drop.

(Composed on and sent from my iPhone :-)