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Friday, 30 April 2010


I was about to possibly be elected Pope. I talked to one of the priests (he hated me, by the way), and there was this odd shaped lump. On the surface, something was written and the deal was that I threw it, and once it landed anything except the case in which the text was directly against the floor/table would make me Pope.

Thursday, 29 April 2010

More self centered fun facts

Additions to the last list:

I hate smelly people. Really hate them. I'm personally very self conscious of everything bodily. I'm throughly embarrassed when I can't hold back farts, queefs, burps or stomach growls. I'm mostly paranoid about smelling bad myself, and try hard to keep distance from people when I'm uncomfortable with my smell. When my breath smells bad, I make sure to drink plenty of water and chew gum as often as possible. I can be ok with people being "human", within what's reasonably uninvasive. Which is to say, I can be ok with the occasional fart, burp, stomach growl, and many things bodily when the one responsible at least tries not to let them show, or hides them most of the time. When people just don't care about those around them enough to "shield" them, I just think it's rude. Smelling so bad people 5+m away can tell means you can tell too. Doing nothing to hide the smell, crack a window open, or at least keep a jacket on so as to not spread the smell is rude.

I'll make a small parenthesis: D used to warn me when he was about to fart, he even mentioned this particular brand of cheap cigarettes which made him gassy. It was ok. In a somewhat childish way, it was sweet. I usually find the fact that he was so comfortable with everything bodily, and his own body (like the time he told me his penis was a little bent to the side) very sexy.

I'm particularly scared of the sea and all creatures in it. To the point when I'm more disgusted and scared of harmless sea creataures (say, a sea cucumber, an octopus) than a more dangerous land animal (a tiger, a wolf, an elephant). They're all so alien to me... I'm terrified of stepping on the ocean floor when there are coral reefs, seaweed and any number of animals hiding. I avoid touching anything other than water when I'm in the sea.

I can't watch uncomfortable scenes in films and tv shows. I always turn away, swap channels, or make myself busy so I don't have to witness and join in the discomfort others only pretend to be involved in.

I believe in theft, but only a very particular kind. See, once, when I was little, I read a chinese book. I can't remember much of the actual story, it might've had something to do with a tiger and a paintbrush, maybe not. What got my attention in this book was a thief. He wasn't just any thief: he wouldn't steal from poor people, as it made them poorer, sad people, as it would make them sadder, or happy people, as it ruined their happiness. So he only stole from wealthy people who were indifferent: the people money was no good for.

When people deliberately ignore my body language for "stay the fuck away, don't touch me" I find it infuriatingly rude. I remember that dirty old fat man on the bus once... he sat next to me and kept pushing me against the window. It pissed me off, so I kept my legs in place and didn't let him have his way. I was very seriously considering to tell him that if his fat ass didn't fit in just one spot he should find two available ones instead of trying to sit on me. He struck up a conversation then, so I made sure to give the shortest possible answers. Ew. *shudders*

Also, I hate it when men tug, scratch or otherwise constantly hint at their groin. Very primeval. I might as well throw in all sexual innuendo, like Sfer's lip licking. He curls up his tongue and takes an unusually long time to go over his lips, and even plays with his tongue. Add that to his offensive smell, the groin tugging and scratching and you'll get me twitching every 3 seconds.

I like animals more than I do people. Make of it what you will, but people are so annoyingly complicated.

I never liked dancing. That's mostly why I suck at it, I never really took an interest in learning. I took dancing lessons, but I might as well never have. Initially, I didn't like dancing because I'd rather keep myself away from all dancing related environments. I've always been more comfortable by myself. Come the need to dance (call it peer pressure, if you will) I just don't like it because I'm aware of the fact that I'll be making an ass out of myself.

I enjoy being alone more than I do being with people, for the most part. That's why I hate it when people interrupt what should be my alone time. I hate people who get on the bus to ask for money because they're all very loud and make a point out of being as annoying as possible to get people's attention. I also find it particularly uncomfortable to hold any kind of conversation with people in or around bathrooms. I don't like to be addressed when I'm in the bathroom, and I'm uncomfortable greeting people in, coming in or coming out of bathrooms.

Often enough I feel lonely, and being alone, instead of being pleasant time to spend selfishly thinking of whatever thinking needs to be done, results in going over everything I've done wrong and why I feel so lonely to begin with. It usually comes from the realisation that I don't really have anyone to rely on.

I like to think that I have a greater purpose in life, that I'm somehow superior to others (at least most of them). I sometimes indulge in thinking I'm prettier than most women. Not pretty myself, I have self esteem issues there to deal with, only prettier than others. I measure myself next to others, find instances of superiority and wish there were any grandeur in store for me in some future. I could be a martyr, I don't have a lot to give up, but I'd give it up willingly if I knew what I'll get. Imagine being discovered for a tv show, or a film, or making an amazing discovery, or understanding something no one else had before. And something significant too, you know? No empty victories, no worthless fame, no undeserved reward.

I can be, and often am, brutally honest. I rarely measure what I'm about to say and I don't usually think of what I'm about to say, leave alone how to phrase it so it doesn't sound too bad. Let whoever cares be worried, I won't bother.

I hate hypocrisy. I'm hypocrisy intolerant, it really upsets me. Probably related to the last paragraph, I can only be astonished at how people go out of their way not only to avoid the truth but replace it for blatant lies.

Unlike the girls I used to hang out with in school, I was a pariah because I've always felt more comfortable that way. I didn't cave to the need to know as many people (and men, at that) as possible, because there was never such a need in me. I didn't want to be popular, I've never liked the drinking/smoking/partying environments and I wasn't about to yield to those to be around people. I was incredibly comfortable when we were just losers who hanged out with losers, and our meetings at the pool (not to mention that awesome trip to the islands) are the times I remember most fondly. Hanging out with D and his friends (my friends' cousins) was awesome because there were no higher expectations, we got to have fun for the sake of fun, and in the golden days of hanging out today, none of us smoked or drank alcohol. If we had fun, we didn't need to lose inhibitions to do so. Funny phrases were funny on their own, as were funny incidents. Everything nonsensical was pure, to some extent, and for a fairly long time (considering we were about 15) nothing changed in that sense. I miss those times.

I'm particularly hard on myself for mistakes I think I could've helped, and I spend more time thinking of what things would be like if I hadn't messed up than I do trying to avoid future mess ups and being fine with old ones.

When I was little I used to think longer books were better books, and that kids only got to read short books because they didn't deserve to read better books just yet. I still got my parents to buy more than one crappy long book trying to make myself superior.

I once said (though it was a lie, and I can't believe anyone fell for it then) I'd been reading the dictionary and had gotten through to letter M. I must've been 8 or 9 at the time.

I distinctly remember a time in class (1st grade, I was 7-8) when our teacher showed us bread and toast, and after explaining what turned one into the other asked which would be heavier. I was alone thinking it would be the bread. I liked being the only one to be proven right when she put them on a scale. I like being different, even more so when being anything else means being stupid and blind, unable to come up with your own opinions. I like being different and I like it when different just feels, or is proven, right.

I used to think people underground controlled traffic lights. Sometimes, I wish there were such a job. As I imagined it, people had cameras to see how many cars came in which direction and could help move along the streets with most cars.

I've always wanted to get a tarot reading, or anything of the like. If the person doing it is indeed gifted, it would be interesting to know what's in store for me. If the person doing it is full of crap, I'll know he/she's making stuff up based on what I look like and what I might like to hear. I'd like to know what that would lead him/her to tell me.

I think I'll always remember that night I went out with A, D and his friend. After I bought D and his friend some more alcohol (they'd had plenty by the time we met) D hugged me. It thrilled me to remember what it felt like, I can't remember that anymore. We ended up in some park and Captain Planet came by. He was high as a kite, and though I was scared, he was harmless. He offered some cards and asked us to take 5, or maybe 3. They represented years that had passed, the present year, and years to come. They all had pictures of angels, and some word or other for what the angel in the picture represented. My card for the year ahead had a picture of an angel holding a heart. It had no caption underneath it. D took everything in the cards to heart and mentioned they were spot on for previous years, and that the year ahead promised love. I've always wondered if my card meant love, or if there's any meaning in the fact that it read nothing and yet I wanted to call it love. The year for those cards was the year when D and I got together again, if only for a short time.

When I take pictures, I like to leave people out. I see no point in evidence of having visited a given place in the form of pictures of yourself there. I like nature, I like landscapes, flowers, animals, rivers, sunsets, trees, mountains, lakes. Those are picture worthy. Puny humans, as Sheldon-Hulk would have it, aren't.

Also, I hate it when people whisper. I hate the sound of it. I think it might have something to do with the breathiness of whispering voices. It might account for why I like MGG's almost whisper voice so much, it's only a quiet voice, but not quite a whisper, and the fact that he can make me not hate the almost whisper is what makes it so nice to listen to.


I had this dream last night where I was at a club. One of the fancier, golf course included, clubs here in Bta. Antanas was there with his wife and the other mayor, for interviews. However, his wife left for the beach (I know, not exactly Bta setting, but the club looked like the Hilton club in Ctg at times, and at others like school2). After a while, we heard news that she was missing, something had happened to her. Important or not, I was there with my dad and my sister. Initially, I was wearing pijamas, but for some reason they were all wet, so I decided to walk around naked, covering my privates every now and then when people stared, but unusually comfortable, and for the most part unnoticed (Ms. Cellophane, anyone?).

People set out looking for Antanas' wife, myself included, so I went to the beach. After walking around for a while, I got to this place next to a road, a small nook filled with sand where criminals just stashed dead people and dead things in general. A dead Ronald Mc Donald was there. I walked over there, fearing the worst, and there were all of these baby elefants there, left to die. I called some cops nearby, and started crying. The elephants were tiny, puppy sized, considering they're actually born at leas the size of an adult dog. At least one of them was still alive, which told me someone had just stacked them there in the sand waiting for them to die. So cruel... The cops didn't really mind.

At some other point, during the dream, I was in the university's sports' center with A1. She kept trying to use her student ID to get through, but she wouldn't move in time to get past and eventually it turned out her ID was no good, so I had to get her a guest's ID. Once we were in, we moved past R1 in the electric stairs (I'm not even sure they have those up there).

Elsewherein the dream, I was in an apartment with people from school1. It looked a bit like Pentagono. I was with L1 and H1, and for some reason he started kissing my neck. It was weird, because it made me uncomfortable and at the same time I liked it. He stopped, I can't remember why, and I wanted him to go on. I need to find a way to control my hormones.

Dreams aside, an evening edit: L1 started a conversation saying we never met for dinner or whatever. I said I had exams and left it at that. Like hell we're going to meet...

Tuesday, 27 April 2010


I had a dream last night about my sister being with her friend (the one that got a boob job) and crashing in some sort of accident. A plane crash, car crash, something like that. My sister came out alright, but her friend died. Odd thing is (people dying is not really funny) I could see them, right after the hit, and my sister didn't try to wake her friend up or get her to react, and I said she really should have. This girl could've been alive and too weak to show it, for all we know. My sister didn't seem too upset about it, which makes things even weirder.

Monday, 26 April 2010


J2 ran into me as I sat on a bench near the classroom I'd be having class in. It was time for class already, only people in the classroom hadn't left it yet. I was eating gobbstoppers and reading the news when he joined me. He right away asked for candy, which I reluctantly offered, and started chatting. The appalling manners!!! The way he chews food and talks with his mouth full got me on my nerves. But then he starts talking about philosophy, and stereotypes, and mathematicians. I said I'd be in class with Arun, who's really cool to be in class with, if only on account of his accent alone. I mentioned he should pass by, literally wanting to mean he should walk by the classroom once the class began to listen to some of it. But he understood he was to go in, even though I argued he really shouldn't considering he wouldn't understand anything, and actually joined me and even took a seat. Until, I guess and am thankful for, he felt awkward and left. I couldn't help but be glad Arun's teaching would still be something only AOB and I knew and could joke about.

It's funny how, as I got on the bus I noticed AOB had texted me to tell me he was done with neuro. We briefly texted for a while, he said he'd be available this Saturday and I said I had abstract algebra exams to score 4+ on. We agreed we'd talk and see if we can get together before he possibly goes to Trinidad in summer. It's not just his good manners (better than mine, I think), or the fact that he's so polite, or sweet, or thoughtful, or wonderfully weird and interesting. I'm very comfortable with the level of closeness between us, the way he's noninvasive and I haven't once grown tired of his presence (except, maybe, for the one freakishly long phonecall). It's in the little things, how he's close without being invasive, and nice even when I'm a little too weird for his comfort. He's easy to grow fond of.

[7pm stub edit:]
We're ahead in polls, woo! Also, I can still wear a six year old long dress. I don't care if it's old, it's black and I don't suppose dresses have changed all that much since. I'm out of a lot of trouble for my cousin's wedding.

Mixed feelings

I had a dream last night where D was interviewed and he talked about his exgirlfriends. Somehow, the girl I saw him kiss that once and myself were the "significant ones". The ones he dared do stuff with. I can't remember what he said about me, but he mentioned puting a syringe with lemon juice and a balloon up the other girl's butt. It appalled me, it made me a bit sorry for the other girl, but also, I was sort of jealous he got there with that other girl and not me. Don't take me wrong, I wouldn't like it one bit, so I'm somehow glad it was someone else, it has more to do with trust, I guess.

In another dream I was with a chinese/japanese girl, daughter of a cook who had a home restaurant. He was leaving and she insisted she was good enough to take over while he was gone, but he insisted she shouldn't. I was there to help, she got fistfuls of wasabe to cook in boiling water, stained wonton dough with something blue (not to mention the dough was terrible, I volunteered to help and it was so tough), and couldn't find anything in the kitchen. When her dad got back some other girl, anime looking, was doing a good job waiting tables. Mostly because she was almost naked (only wearing a large japanese shirt which showed her boobs every time she bent over). Sweet, but dumb as sand. The cook took a shine to her (boobs) and offered to help her learn the maths necessary to be a good waitress.

In yet another dream, there was this videogame where you were attacked by leopard seals. It tested your will to live and your tenacity, as you had to hit the seal and then swim away from it, trying to reach the beach. By the time you reached shallow waters there were whirlpools with sharks in them. I eventually reached the beach, but it was a close call.

Sunday, 25 April 2010

Gama (Galo?)

I got a good look at him this time. I first met him in an auditorium, in a probability class. He was new, and asked something about abstract algebra and whether or not he needed it to undertand the class. Now that I remember, actually, the dream goes back.

I got involved with D, and got hurt (again). We used to sit together in this class, he sat on my right. Last thing I remember concerning D was him asking me to meet him. He now lived farther up north, so it took a bus ride to get there. My sister came along. We were looking for a certain kind of place, and the bus driver ignored my request to stop at the first such place, or near it. Whatever happened between me and D, it was clear that though he'd hinted at something possibly happening, it wouldn't, because when we were in this class again, he made a point out of sitting elsewhere (between other guys, where I couldn't join him).

This is where Gama comes in. Arun started handing out homework, and Gama and I waited until it was less crowde downstairs to go get ours. When we got down, he was there with some friends of his, I was there with my sister, and several Big Bang Theory characters were there (Sheldon, Leonard, Penny). We were asked to pair up and perform some exercises. At this point I was briefly not myself, for I was either Leonard or Penny and Leonard dirtied up the exercise (Penny had to place herself in what resembled the cowgirl position).

A little haze later, I'm at a deli, my cousins are there, so is A and her brother, and Gama is about to arrive. A's brother seems to know him from school, or elsewhere, and so did my cousins. Some Coca-Cola spilt on the floor, and I was cleaning it up when they arrived. I suppose it was a little demeaning, but he didn't even notice me. Our reunion was then moved to Mf's house, which had an awesome extension which was a little like the library from The Beauty and the Beast, because there were many floors of books, but it was also a bit like the Architecture library in university, and that's where this one actually led. When going elsewhere, I couldn't resist the temptation to go up the wooden staircase, hold on to a black rope and hoist myself floors up. Some girl I used to go to school with was there and asked me to lower her some giant books which held some of the best work done for a particular design subject. It containted what looked like senior jackets with clouds and pigs. I didn't find them that good, but she and others remarked upon the technique. I went back down at this point.

Actually, before I went up, there was this small scene. I was then an actress for a TV show, I think, and so was Gama. I was in a small group that sat on a table with Antanas, in a church, and Gama was a (possibly demonic) hitman hired to kill him. Gama first went into a study, talked to an old man there, checked the computer, and then left Antanas a note. It was in hebrew (possibly taken from the Bible) and whatever it said, it referred to Antanas by some other name and warned him that he'd be killed, that it had to be. Antanas was first a little confused, but then read the note out loud, translated, and said to send another message back along the lines of "I'm waiting, so be it". A priest was found nearby with an odd looking weapon. It was sharp, though it was very thick (and actually sort of resembled the things you pull some zippers from). He was conspiring against Antanas, and at least knew of the people who'd hired Gama for the job.

This is where I absented myself, and the show went on without me. Gama, initially a one time character, was now hired to be a regular, and whatever his name was Gamman T---- they changed it. I tried reading the script, and it seemed to mention something about Gama's lover. Some other demon, perhaps? It was a one time thing, though, as I read from the comments below, because girls were hopeful of getting together with Gama one day.

Gama was tall (about a foot taller than myself), pale (though not freakishly so), had black hair and dark eyes, a broad back, strong arms, a square jaw and his face was something like a less douchey, latinised, even a little less handsome version of Robert Pattinson. He looked out of my league, totally. Yet, he seemed more accessible. Being friends with A's brother, possibly my cousins, understanding maths, and I seem to remember him mentioning he baked pies, I suppose he'd be a great guy for me to be with. It's funny how in my dream he comes right after D, and the transition is so easy I don't bother thinking of D in what is left of the dream.

Saturday, 24 April 2010

Just for kicks

Let's keep track: A met EBF and N2 last night at a birthday party. Uneventful, as far as that goes, really. EBF introduced her as my best friend. A mentioned EBF was particularly chatty. *raises eyebrows* Right.

I bit my tongue for a while, but to hell with that: chatty? Seriously? Back up any claims of hypocrisy with this. As far as I'm concerned, he should've just introduced A as a schoolmate. No need to point out the obvious: 1) I'm not really A's best friend (or I would've been at the party), 2) it was unnecessary to link A to N2 by introducing me as a missing link, and 3) how dare he bring me up? doesn't he have better things to talk about? Officially, I now consider such acts sacrilegious.

For the record

I've had the feeling all day and since last night, that A will stab me in the back (or already has). It may (or not) be related to her trip to Ctg during vacations. I can only imagine it would involve D. Somehow, it would be karma biting her ass after being so mean to the friend of hers who hit on the guy she made out with. But methinks there's more to it than that. Should any of this turn out to be true, here's record that I could smell it coming. If it's nonsense, here's record of my insanity.

On the safe side

I had a dream about EBF and N2. Well, mostly about N2. It started off with us meeting in university, and for some reason EBF had donated his sperm, and N2 had done something similar with her eggs, only she had control over her eggs and he didn't over his sperm and he'd asked me to see if I could get it for him. It had been stored as a DNA sample, just like a plant's seeds, and I needed to talk to someone from medicine or biology. I was having peas for lunch as this happened and I started aiming them at EBF, excusing myself to N2 when they hit her accidentally. I talked to this girl I used to go to school with, not exactly a very bright one. And, as I remember, she's in the design programme, only it was biology in my dream. Then we discussed a photo frame and how she found that particular design incredibly hard to work with (cropping the photo, moving the pegs to keep it in place).

Later, I got to spend some "quality time" with N2. She'd taken both a bike and a motorbike to whichever place we were at. I talked about supermarkets, and a cheesy named one in Ctg. Later, based on the motorbike/bike thing and possibly other things she'd told me I started analysing her. I said she was incredibly careful, and took more precautions than were actually necessary, no matter how unlikely to happen the events she was preparing to were. Also, I got a phonecall from the service providers, something about some complaint. At any rate, in my dream my analysis made a lot of sense and even explained her jealousy. I don't know the first thing about her, really, except for the jealousy thing. So it's all probably very inappropriate.

In another dream, an earlier dream, I was in a room that wasn't my own. I might've been staying at someone else's place or in a hotel room during vacations. I was staying in it with some other girl. The thing is, the guy who asked me out in Pentagono was there. He spied on me while I showered, and hanged out in the bathroom when I brushed my teeth. To make things fair he showered in my bathroom, hoping I'd get a glimpse of something and we'd be even. For the record, I saw nothing. The whole idea is still very disturbing.

Friday, 23 April 2010

Scary religion

I woke up to the thought of N1. She'd become a nun and was shut someplace where they checked even her letters. Somehow, she'd managed to become friends (and possibly more than just friends)with some guy in the UK, and they wrote one another long (10+ pages) handwritten letters. Both for him and her, however, letters never arrived in full and all pages containing so much as hints of mutual affection were deleted. It was very sad, really.

Thursday, 22 April 2010

First things last

First of all, may I point out that today Sfer's stench was offensive. He asked me to go to the board to solve some problem or other and when I took the marker from him I briefly considered crying. It's just rude to everyone to ignore how bad you smell. Even more so if you do it consistently.

Before class, however, just as my dad called in to have me ask about the loan for next semester, EBF walked by the classroom I was in. (As usual, I was about an hour early, which gives me some alone time to listen to music on the computer while I catch up on work, play sudoku or read the news). He noticed my green nails (and possibly my green shirt) so he asked if I was voting, and I said I was. I mentioned it was hardly worth it, because I was sure they'd be buying votes for the other party anyway and I quoted the late elections scandal. He said something about mathematicians everywhere voting for him, and I said I really wouldn't know if any of what he said was true, because I don't actually hang out with mathematicians. He remarked it was very interesting to discuss politics with me, because I used to be apathetic. I almost started telling him why I'm no longer apathetic, and how I casually ended up reading the news for class last semester and taking an interest in them, becoming addicted (because of that active waiting thing) to updates, which eventually got me political. However, I managed to think he wouldn't care (why should he, anyway?) so I just said I liked Antanas, and lately had reasons to find Uribe less likeable. Shortly after this he left.

Just so we're clear: I again thought he's a hypocrite, so really I just confirmed it. Why say it's interesting to discuss politics with me when he sure as hell won't be talking to me unless he thinks he has to if he runs into me again in university? It ain't gonna happen, pal. So don't pretend it can, or could. Don't feign an interest that's not really there. That aside, I could feel myself blush and I might have reflected a bit of just how flustered I was. Not sure I can explain the blushing, except through the fluster and the rush of everything that comes to mind too soon.

Later in the bus, some guy sat next to me who both smelled gross and kept looking at me in a very unsettling manner. I really thought he'd pull a knife from his bag or his keychain and I was ready to ask help from any of the javerianos who'd just gotten on the bus. I held my head up high, my bag really tight and after a while (where it was clear he didn't initially intend to get off the bus) he got off. I was pleasantly surprised to see followers of Antanas cleaning up lamp posts on the national park. It was a very sweet gesture, really. I smiled at myself because I'd considered a similar form of campaign, it's nice to know we think alike.

As for my dream last night, I woke up to the thought of my little one having given birth to three dogs. They were eskimo and also extraterrestrial, don't ask my why these were related or how I knew. One of them, male, was healthy and strong. Two of them had extra legs hanging from their sides. One, female, had only two thin legs on a side, for a total of 6, and the other had 4 extra legs, 2 on each side. As they'd just been born (though they were the size of adult dogs) I considered taking them to the vet so he could do something about the extralegs while bones were mostly cartilage (which I think is the case... at any rate, I believe the healing process is less painful in pups).

Wednesday, 21 April 2010

Oh yeah, swinging batshit

Now I’m really going mad. When I got off the bus to go to my aunt’s shop I thought I saw D. I wasn’t wearing my glasses, but he was about the right height, had the right hair colour and light coloured eyes. I don’t suppose it counts, but I felt a warmth rush over me at the sight of him, which I usually don’t with random strangers who just look like him. Then again, it’s been such a long time since I last actually saw him. In my defence, it was more likely to be him, not that far away from where I remember him living.

Still, I really must be losing my mind. Now all I want is to see him up front, where I can tell it’s actually him. I want to feel that thrill, even if it makes my knees shake and I feel like an idiot, wondering what I look like and whether or not I look ok. I suppose it’s a good thing there are no pimples in sight right now. As for my clothes, well, I could’ve chosen better clothes. Then again, so could he, if it was him after all, because he was wearing a very blue jean (cheap looking, really... not that different from my own today, actually). For the record, should it come in handy for later recognition (goodness, look at what I’m writing...) his backpack was black and very light gray. The black/navy blue sweater was fairly generic, so I’m not bothering with that. *bangs head against a wall* Batshit insane. Bat *bang* shit *bang* insane *bang*.

That aside, I met a real life Howard Wolowitz. He’s a mathematician and he works in Pentagono too. It was fairly empty today, so when I sat down next to where his bag was, he struck up a conversation, asking if I study maths and why I don’t hang out with most other fellow mathematicians. I found him rather obnoxious, to be honest. Other than that, I’ll mark the day off as uneventful.

Just one last thing, I have homework to do, but I felt bitter last night and I just want to let it out of my system. I’m guessing EBF’s highly likely to organise a barbecue before he leaves. Should he ask, I’ll make sure to say I’m busy. If he suggests changing the date I’ll go on saying I’d be busy. Should it come down to it, I’ll make sure to state I’ll find something to busy myself with whenever he’s hosting it, whether it is by watching television, staring at the ceiling, cooking, sleeping, reading or playing on the play station. I sure as hell don’t have to go, and he should know damn well he can’t make me. Rather than be full on bitch to him, I’ll just imply I’d be busy and leave a link to the blog, should he be desperate enough to know why. I just don’t feel like telling him. Well, I just can’t do it without being rude, and I’m not about to do that. He can read and sift through the nonsense here if he pleases.

Tuesday, 20 April 2010

Batshit insane

I can't stress that enough. On the bus ride to university some guy sat next to me. Well, not just any guy, a guy who looked a lot like D, or so I made myself believe. The jawline, beard thickness, skin, clothes, ears and voice were off, but his hair colour, long eyelashes, green eyes, knuckle cracking and my raging schizophrenia made me think it could be him. I want to see him so badly, I'm starting to see him in people who're fairly obviously not him. To be honest, I wasn't so much scared of being there, right next to a possible D (obviously not the D because I wasn't freaking out, and his smell was off) as I was of the fact that I had fabricated a lie and was starting to believe it.

Now, for other matters: the guy who used to ask math problems came around Pentagono yesterday, it was nice seeing him. The guy who asked me out for coffee/lunch was in Pentagono today and made sure to say goodbye. Some French guy asked the girl next to me for help, they seemed to know one another. Funny, if I'm a despicable snob, because she's not that pretty, and actually looks fairly cheap and tacky. Oh well, that's it for today, I think.

Monday, 19 April 2010


I decided it's probably best if (from now on) I warn beforehand. Not so bad, but still, if I use the "censored" label it's for a reason.

Sometime between rushing to probability class and actually getting there I suddenly started craving the feeling of D's penis in my mouth. More specifically, the soft tip of the head. It was wrong on several levels, because I couldn't get that thought out of my mind. The fact that I was very cold during class didn't help, because it just made me want to hug D. On the bus, I concocted a story that begins with D contacting me (most likely via facebook) and saying he wants to talk. One thing could lead to another and if I could, I'd try to hold myself together and not get involved in anything more than hugs, and maybe holding hands with him. I could agree to test him and only go past hugs and into something official if he could commit to being the girl in the relationship and could show me I wouldn't get hurt. In my need to tell someone, I could arrange to go out with AOB and J2 as well as D, introducing him as my friend and hoping for AOB to catch on and get every subtle hint so I could tell him all about D. Somehow, talking to A abouthim would be wrong.

All this thinking about D reminded me that at some point not too long ago I had a dream where D accidentally sent me a message. I'm not sure if it was 100% accidental, because recent messages deleted themselves and I couldn't read the message he sent well before it and all others before it were deleted.

Sunday, 18 April 2010

Hair and rain

In my dream last night, I was on an island. At times it looked a lot like the island my cousins' grandfather owned, but it held a mall and several small rooms that weren't in the original island. I walked around the island, in the rain, as some irish woman sang. She had long, blonde, curly hair. I pointed her out to my dad, who wanted something related to the rain. To me it was obvious she had something to do with it. I was looking for some place where I could get a cheap haircut. I wanted my hair short (very short) but it didn't matter if it wasn't a very good haircut, as long as it wasn't a terribly bad one. My aunt had suggested a mall to ask around in, so I went there, but it seemed to me they all charged too much.

As for my waking life, three things:
1) I noticed my aunt smells a bit like D, I wonder if there's anything to it.
2) My aunt and my mum mocked my unwillingness to let other people's touch anything I might eat, and the fact that I'd drink tap water from public restrooms. It became really uncomfortable really quick when they said they'd love to see me share food with a boyfriend.
3) Antanas' competition is ridiculous. Hilarious, even. Also, my involvement in politics lately is almost an homage to EBF, I promised him I'd vote when it came down to it, and I even promised I'd really look into things before doing so.

Any greeting

I get to make a big deal about the fact that I didn't make a big deal out of greeting EBF the other day, right?... Yeah, I'll just go by my own bogus rules on this one. A told me she ran into EBF yesterday around noon. He was, apparently, right at her front door, so she greeted him. I couldn't help but point out that it would seem she sees him and greets him more effusively than me. That is if you consider the fact that I go to the same university and have a much higher chance of running into him than she did of seeing him at her front door. Not to mention I'm supposed to be on better terms with him than she is, having been good friends or whatever, but never mind any of it. Right? Right...

Saturday, 17 April 2010

Hormone rage

Warning: in case you missed it, there's a "censored" label for this post. You might want to stop reading right about now if you don't want to have to gouge your eyes out later.

I had a dream just now about giving D a blow job. I don't know how we got to the point where I was about to give him a blow job, though. First thing I remember is being with him on a bed, he was lying on it and I was covering his groin with my head and hands because my sister was around. Oddly, he didn't initially have a penis. I can only guess it's been so long I couldn't remember what it looked like so I left it completely blank, which almost made D a woman. Weird. For a while we talked about his pubes, and I mentioned he could trim them a bit. It didn't matter, I guess, because as soon as it was "safe", I started kissing, licking and caressing his penis, which got it up and going really quick. Actually, it was a lot longer than I remember, and significantly wider, too, because I had serious trouble getting more than the head in my mouth (and I used to be able to hold just over half before my gag reflex kicked in). I should probably point out it didn't always look exactly like a penis, it sometimes looked too thin in places, resembling a dildo. The taste and smell seemed about right, though. At some point we were on the floor but had to move because his penis was so long it was uncomfortable to go down, and somehow being back on the bed made things easier. When I took the time to suck on his balls he remarked guys always know when a girl went over the trouble of looking things up online. I can't remember whether or not it was a good thing, but he seemed to mean "just do it without thinking so much, it's all good". When he was close to coming I started dripping and some girls who were around now (as assistants) put something on the bed just below the drip. He didn't come, I woke up a bit too soon. I wasn't woken up, people were outside being loud from a while back and I managed to sleep through it, so I don't think the that was it. Anyway, I can only conclude... Damn it, that's how badly I want to be with D.

Friday, 16 April 2010

Yup, still feeling petty

Lately I feel very political. I read the news constantly, I want Antanas to win the elections, and I wish journalists weren't so afraid of publishing worthy news, I wish the government didn't scare them and control their jobs the way it does. I wanted to attend the green movement today, but there were a couple of reasons I didn't: 1) I was in class when people were asked to assemble, so I would've been fairly late; 2) I didn't want to go with J2; 3) I had no one else to go with, not to mention I didn't want to risk running into EBF. Going by myself was out of the question, really.

I've been daydreaming about being with D, hopefully running into him on the day of the elections if he votes at the same place I have to go to. Damn it! I'm not supposed to want to be with him. It's been so long, it's stupid to be daydreaming about him even now. Yet, I'm stuck reading news, daydreaming of D in impossible scenarios and failing exams. I failed the second abstract algebra exam. It turns out I'll need a 4.0 average during the rest of the semester to pass, and I'm not even sure that's all on tests. If any significant part of the remaining 60% of my grade depends on what I say during class, I'm so screwed. Fuck! And I've still got quizzes to grade.

Hormones are kicking in again, too. My body wants babies and it's tired of me not bothering to try. I can't believe I even shortly considered some of the guys in Pentagono. I really need a boyfriend. Even if I have no time for one.

Thursday, 15 April 2010


For starters, after fighting sleep for a good while during class today, I caved in and I didn't even realise it until halfway through the professor's brief speech to tell us he'd give us all a break to wake up. A bit embarrassing, frankly, I usually at least know I'm closing my eyes and this time I was just like Alice falling through the rabbit hole.

That aside, I got on a bus, and so did a huge black butterfly and waaaay too many people, including an old woman wearing a black jacket just like D's. I couldn't help but notice. This resulted in some stupid woman being dragged in I know not what position which resulted in a dislocated (I hope, instead of broken) hand and a bruised arm. The bus driver was forced to stop by everyone else on the bus, and they made him man up to his responsibility to a policeman. Some woman brought up good manners and a sense of city culture. For a while it gave me hope to know they wouldn't let the bus driver get away with carrying too many people and hurting one because of it. However, knowing that woman shouldn't have got on the bus in the first place (it was too full already) it really shows a lack of common sense in everyone, not to mention an insulting willingness to let it all go to hell as long as they can get home 5min earlier. As we waited for anything by the likes of an answer, two cars crashed nearby.


Sometime around 1am this morning my little one was desperate to go out for a walk, so I put on some shoes and a coat to bear the cold outside. I didn't even turn on the lights, that's how much of a hurry she was in. When she was done we got back, I stopped in the bathroom for a while and she got ahead and jumped on my bed, waiting for me to join her. So I get into bed, and both her and I felt the bed shake violently, if only once. We were both startled, but she just settled down to sleep and I tried to ignore it for a bit. I might've fallen too hard on the bed when I got on it, but it's unlikely, as even awake I've never had it shake that hard. Except for that one time when there was an earthquake making it jump up and down. I'm sure I didn't make it up because my little one was startled too, only she was startled for an unusually short time. In my only half asleep state I felt that there was a shift between worlds and I might have somehow ended up in a parallel universe.

As for today's news... I can't believe Uribe's criticizing Antanas. That was so low. Seriously, I can't believe he did it. So much so I'm starting to wonder if, knowing now what happened with Samuel and Peñalosa, Uribe was somehow committing seppuku, killing his party before it kills our country.

Wednesday, 14 April 2010

Duly noted

So, today was rather uneventful. I ended up (thank goodness) not having to take that exam I thought I might, which is good. I felt a little stupid trying to help people out with their vector calculus assignments and not being able to take a hint for a differential calculus limit. I had lunch with the girl I usually study with, and on the way to the place we’d be buying our lunch in, we walked past EBF, who was walking in the opposite direction.

By the time I noticed him straight ahead he was looking back at me. It was fairly clear I didn’t get to pretend I didn’t see him and ignore him, so I raised my hand. I didn’t wave, and when we were at each other’s side for a split second I thought he’d try to high five me. For less than that split second I considered going for it, and then thought to myself “why should I?” and didn’t. I was supposed to acknowledge his existence and the fact that I know him (or used to). Duly noted. I see no reason why I should’ve joined in the hypocrisy of anything more than that. To be honest, it didn't take long to realise I would've gladly greeted most strangers in Pentagono more effusively. Not when I’m almost done missing him and it almost doesn’t hurt anymore to think about it. I needed to be petty.

Today morning’s soundtrack “Hate on me” by Ms. Amber Reilly.

Duly noted

So, today was rather uneventful. I ended up (thank goodness) not having to take that exam I thought I might, which is good. I felt a little stupid trying to help people out with their vector calculus assignments and not being able to take a hint for a differential calculus limit. I had lunch with the girl I usually study with, and on the way to the place we’d be buying our lunch in, we walked past EBF, who was walking in the opposite direction. By the time I noticed him straight ahead he was looking back at me. It was fairly clear I didn’t get to pretend I didn’t see him and ignore him, so I raised my hand. I didn’t wave, and when we were at each other’s side for a split second I thought he’d try to high five me. For less than that split second I considered going for it, and then thought to myself “why should I?” and didn’t. I was supposed to acknowledge his existence and the fact that I know him (or used to). Duly noted. I see no reason why I should’ve joined in the hypocrisy of anything more than that. Not when I’m almost done missing him and it almost doesn’t hurt anymore to think about it. I needed to be petty.

Today morning’s soundtrack “Hate on me” by Ms. Amber Reilly.


I had a dream sometime between 5:23am and 5:40am today. It involved twins, a boy and a girl. The girl had black hair, she was tall, and looked healthy and strong, while her brother, with light brown hair and feeble complexion. We somehow traveled back in time and could see them both as little kids (about 6) in a bathtub. The boy seemed to realize who we were, and at some point started inspecting me. He later asked if I was involved with Nicholas Cage yet. WTF?

Tuesday, 13 April 2010

Can I have a Rue Morgue moment by myself?

As I walked out of today's last class (what a waste of time!) I thought about Antanas. There's this poll where people are asked which candidate they'd choose as their children's teacher, and about half the people voted Santos, even though he's got no good credentials. Also, I remembered that interview where they were all asked to quote their credentials: Santos mentioned studying in Harvard, Mockus mentioned teaching in Harvard. Made me feel proud of Antanas, and knowing I can do my part to help him win the elections. All the while, "Maybe this time" as sang by Kristin Chenoweth rang in my head in the background. 

I stood up straighter and walked with my head up high. I didn't realise this last bit until some guy on my right said "so dignified, linaThumbe!" or something along those lines. I didn't turn to look who it was, and I haven't figured out whether he was being mean or funny, but either way I still don't know who it was, so it can't matter much.

During class, as is usual, my mind wandered. My lips are chapped today. No matter how much water I drink or how much lip balm I use, they won't heal one bit. They've made me want to kiss someone. I miss D! Inadvertently I started playing in my head short scenes from the night we first kissed. The way I could "feel him" even as he was in the elevator, before he rang the doorbell. The way he hugged me when he came through the door. Sitting on the floor, next to him, covered by the blanket, playing with each other's hands. Finding each other's hand through the blanket, holding it, caressing it, slowly working our way around the blanket. The Listerine strips. The way he and his friend sang "my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard..." The sound of our hostess noisily smooching her boyfriend and the horror film having no soundtrack. Being locked in the balcony, measuring each other and calculating just how right our heights were to close in for a kiss. My mum calling because she was downstairs waiting for me. Him telling me to wait another 5min. How I couldn't believe any of it until it happened. The kiss. Him saying he'd join me in the elevator, and as many pecks as he could give me as it descended and the doors opened.


So... I'll see if I can remember what it was I wanted to write besides my dream along the way. Two nights of restless sleep have only yielded one piece of a dream, one where AOB and I were close and I could "feel" we both wanted to kiss, only we didn't. This hormone thing just might be reaching crazier levels than I thought possible.

I ran into A on the bus, it was nice talking to her and having some actual human interaction.

Nope, can't remember a thing. Hopefully I'll remember, or it won't turn out to be important if I don't.

Sunday, 11 April 2010


After a word or two to my parents to get their approval, some sleep and a short bus ride I was part of a green sea this morning. Not being a people person, I'm surprised I liked it at all. It was cathartic, exhilarating, and euphoria inducing. To be honest, sometimes it almost brought a tear to my eye, I understand Mockus when he gets sentimental. He's not great at giving speeches, and, you know what? It shows me he's even more worthy of being president because he's not trying to trick us into believing what he says with rhetoric. I get to say we. I was part of a mass of people who felt the same as myself. Possibly for the first time, I joined in that communion.

It gave me hope to see that all who were there to support Mockus were polite, nice, and cooperative to strangers. He's right when he asks us to multiply, all colombians should behave this way. That's the way to end the guerrilla. Uribe did his part. Now, before they get back on their feet, we teach the people they'd recruit and make sure they've no one to boss around, no one to do the dirty jobs. Masterminds alone, we can reason with them. Not just that, it just won't do to pick a rude president, or one who's already set his mind against neighbouring presidents. We can't afford it! Over 60% of the population is poor! Over 60% of the population doesn't get to sit back and watch a stupid president start yet another war. At least half of the leftover 20% will be busy falling to join that 60%.

We most certainly can't sacrifice millions of people's futures to go on achieving mediatic successes. It's only worse when you consider Santos controls a great deal of the media and it's oh so clear they're helping him look better. They're hiding the defects of this (his) administration. They're pretending to get work done where no work is done at all and make news with it. Let's see if journalists decide they'd rather have freedom to have opinions than a job. It's otherwise nice to see Mockus gets a lot of support from smart people.

I worry about votes from Noemí going to Santos, though. Who are the idiots who'd vote for Santos and Noemí anyway? All results aside, I'll admit some are admirable, we need change. This country can take no more of the old ballsy bureaucratic bullshit. Antanas' honesty to admit his Parkinson's disease was inspiring. The way he chooses the smart, ethical way out of all situations amazes me. The way others (though you really have to give Santos a golden star for effort) try to seem better than him, more often than not through questionable methods, amuses me. Most of the time I can only chuckle at their feeble attempts to reproduce what they think makes people want to vote for Mockus. It's clear that what he has, they've proven isn't in them to be had. Every time they try it's only made clearer he's honest and they can't even properly pretend so.

His brains, truly unimpeachable moral character and sweet disposition will make of him a good (even a great) President. The fact that he mooned an auditorium, got married on an elephant, taught people through clowns, and dressed as a superhero will make him an AWESOME PRESIDENT. It really gives me hope.

I wonder if the military will pose a problem for Mockus. Not so much when it comes to using them as much as for not using them. I can only guess they've gotten used to glory and won't have a mind to be forgotten so soon. No wonder they used falsos positivos. No, really. Isn't that the whole point? To say you've achieved something, whatever that something may be? I'd personally go take bullets for Antanas, though, even if it borders (yeah, right) on fanaticism.

I wasn't eager to go with A1, but A wasn't avaiable and I really wanted to go. Conversations eventually mentioned EBF and N2. A1 said we look alike, and quite frankly, I was offended. Not that I'd hate to look like her (though I'm not very eager to), I just really disliked the comparison.

Anything but music

I had a dream about being in that place where I learnt music in Ctg. A was with me, she was wearing the dress for the wedding she attended yesterday, only in my dream it was white, with green peacock feathers/fishscales and matching nails. I went to the bathroom before going to class, but I only borrowed the soap, washed my hands elsewhere, and by the time I wanted to return the soap to its place I had almost forgotten and gone to class instead. When I reached the bathroom I'd borrowed the soap from, it turned out to be a kitchen, and my cousin's eldest daughter was trying to leave a chicken corpse there. So was I, suddenly. She was trying to separate the skin from the chicken, and when she managed (poorly) I indicated two piles for her to leave both pieces. My aunt then repeated what I had just said. I separated a chicken too, and then my aunt got me to work doing some tomato appetizers, because I ruined a couple of chickens and some white paper-like figurines they had inside (I splattered blood over them). I also ruined a few tomatoes, and my aunt lectured me because we weren't meant to waste food like that, because apparently it had been given by the government. I offered to pay for all the food I wasted, and she said it'd be ok, that other organisations wasted much more than I had. I kept on peeling tomatoes when I had to take a phone call from the bank. Something to do with a credit card, I think. They asked if my decision (for whatever transaction I was making) had anything to do with the career I was studying for. I answered no, but just in case told her I was studying mathematics.

Saturday, 10 April 2010

I forgot last night, but

Night before last, I had a dream about being in a house with my cousins, their boyfriends, and president Obama. I had to shower in the middle of a hall, no curtain, no anything, so when some of my sister's friends passed by I just covered myself the best I could. Later I wore matching short dress and laced panties coloured bright green. There was something about Obama having seen me doing things I would've done drunk in these clothes, only I didn't remember doing any of them.

Friday, 9 April 2010


First and foremost, during class today I sat in a corner, pretty far away from the other 8 or so people in class. At some point, when I was looking at a professor, the costeño guy who's in class was in the way, looking at me and smiling. I smiled back, because I thought it would've been rude not to, but the whole episode was weird.

On another subject, I don't want to be american anymore, I want to be canadian. That way I'd get to work in the Harry Potter theme park and go to a Cirque du Soleil show. I'd love that. EBF was right.

During class, too, and before class, because I was bored, I started thinking of what life with AOB would be like if we were together long term. For some reason, we'd end up living in the UK.

Today's soundtrack: "Don't rain on my parade" as sung by Lea Michelle.

Thursday, 8 April 2010

A ribbon

About 20min after I got on a bus AOB called to offer a ride home. I didn't thank him, which I probably should have, come think of it, but I explained I was kinda far away from los andes already, so I instead suggested we watch movies or do something this weekend. He said he'd have partial exams during the next two weeks, so I don't suppose we'll be meeting any time soon. I checked his schedule and there aren't other days we can meet. I was wearing the scarf he and J2 gave, and started wondering what train of thought led him to think of giving me a gift, more so a scarf, and what made him choose a scarf I actually like. I find it even more intriguing to wonder what I could ever give him, along the same lines. I can't think of anything.

Turns out I don't know him that well. I know his brother(s) has(ve) issues, I know he likes green mangos, chocolate, and really likes helping people out. I know he doesn't read books in Spanish, but other than that I don't really know what kind of books he reads, if any at all, except I know he never read the TLOTR. I know he has two (evil) cats, has worn clothes for over 8 years and obviously hasn't grown much in over 8 years.

At some point, when my hormones kicked in, I guess, I made a mental list of things he's mentioned which could come across as showing interest. For instance he asked me once in first semester if he should grow his moustache. I advised against it, I didn't elaborate much, but beards and/moustaches only look good when they grow even and thick, preferably on square jaws. Truth is, I was thinking of D's beard then because, as ridiculous as it may sound, it's glorious. He's only got a couple of hairs sticking out here and there, so it really wouldn't do. He also asked about his hair, more than once.

I can't remember more now, but I guess it's in the little things, like calling to drive me home, and that (come to think of it) almost date when he came over to watch a film. I realise now I did a lot to avoid him, or at least to keep him away. I told him he could sit next to me if it would help him see the tv better, but I put a cushion in between and left the popcorn on it.

Tracing these back led me to wonder if there was any chance he'd had a crush on me long ago, which I dismissed because I remembered he said something about wanting to find a blonde girl to hook up with. I spontaneously remembered how EBF, AOB and I sat on the grass in university, talking about everything an nothing, when I found myself looking around for blonde girls AOB could hook up with. When I realised it and mentioned it out loud, EBF found it sweet (?) and hugged me. I think AOB just smiled then. Either way, it's a short moment I cherish. Yes, it's an old fashioned term, I'm an old fashioned writer.

Also today, having little to do with anything, I remembered my piano lessons, and how I used to stand by the gates and sing to myself while my parents picked me up. This led to thinking of D, because he once mentioned he could remember seeing me where we took lessons (he took piano lessons too, only I'm pretty sure never with me). He said that's how he'd known me before we were introduced. You gotta admit it's very sweet of him to have noticed, and remembered, and remarked so. Even if he just remembered me as some girl he'd be interested in, not to say "a girl he'd like to shag"... bad for my self esteem, that is.

Back on the AOB subject, I still can't think of a gift, so it will be my bus ride challenge for boring times staring out of windows. I've considered clothes, but I don't know his size, or his taste in clothing, as I don't notice what he wears. I considered a book, but I wouldn't know which one to buy, except one in English (brilliant idea, just thought of it: how about "City of Glass"?). I considered something I'd made myself, like a scarf, but that could come across as being too personal and I don't remember him wearing scarves. There's always food, fleeting times eating it and hard work behind it, so I started thinking of a tropical menu revolving around green mangos, chocolate, possibly mole, possibly tamarind. Also, I could just invite him out for dinner, but it would be weird. I know he appreciates art, only I don't know which kind (except for those pictures I remember from some woman sketch artist, which looked a lot like MGG's).

I think society might be to blame: women don't often buy men gifts, they're only expected to give their souls, bodies, and on occasion very expensive gifts (especially in the case of cougars). Men buy women gifts all the time, so anything ranging from jewelery, to clothing, to flowers, to books, to art, to handcrafts are acceptable as small thoughtful gifts. I could think of gifts for EBF because I knew him better and because that included knowing his hobbies and the stuff he was passionate about (like Van Gogh's art, Calamaro's music, and that book by the nothing-ist). I can't say he likes any of those anymore.

Today's soundtrack: "Take a bow" by Lea Michelle.


I had a dream about being in class in the classroom that's waaaay up. Mr. J was teaching it, and at some point, during a crossover where it looked a lot like the classrooms near the microwave room, Q passed by. I presume he was going to class, it seemed odd to see him in my university, during school hours. People in class were from both schools, and some from my school in Ctg seemed to remember Q from some place or other. Come the end of the dream, I was walking around campus with the girl I usually do homework with. I don't remember what it is we were looking for, but I needed to stop by a bathroom first.

All dreams aside, two things:
1) The guy I lent a pen to from pentagono about 3 weeks ago gave it back today. He was embarrassed about giving it back so late, and he apologised. I told him it's more than enough if he gave it back and thanked him. This tiny little incident gives me hope in humanity.
2) When I went to microwave my lunch and sat down, initially by myself to have lunch some guy sat nearby, and then a couple. The couple was pretty close, and what I absolutely hated about that was the fact that the guy's meal smelled like feet/shit and he had such terrible manners! The way he chewed his food so noisily I could hear him through my headphones and music, the way he bit meat off the fork without bothering to cut it properly even though he had a knife, the way he stuck his fingers in his mouth when he was done to pull out all remaining bits of food. It was disgusting. Almost made me lose my apetite altogether, I held my breath as often as I could for as long as I could to go on eating.

Also, I solved a physics problem (really just maths) a professor and at least 20 students couldn't. Makes me proud of myself, if only the tiniest little bit. Also, Mr. Antanas Mockus is decidedly the best man for the job of being our president: without repeating the obvious (education, nerdiness), he wore a superhero costume, he cried when he realised he's got a shot at winning the elections, and he quoted Borges. Not to mention he gave back more than half the money awarded him for his campaign. I can't even begin to imagine what people who got more money are doing with theirs, but I can't stress enough how wonderful it is of him to have given it back, or how great it would be if, as their party suggested, they build a school with it.

Monday, 5 April 2010


I kept seeing the guy who asked me out everywhere. I ignored him, every single time. It was just too weird. I don't quite understand why, but men who like me freak me out. I suppose he'll understand I'm not interested... if he wanted to be friends he knows where to find me, I guess. Not that he'd want that, I'm pretty sure he was just in it for the squirrel logic.

Sunday, 4 April 2010

Mary Reilly

I meant to write something about Mary Reilly, and seeing as I can't be bothered to do anything useful, I'll go ahead and write it now. It could've been a much better film, but I found it, in spite of all critics I read later, to be quite good.

Julia Roberts was certainly terrible for the part she was given, she's a great actress, but she couldn't fake a British accent for the life of her, and I found she lacked character. She failed to portray the side of Mary that wanted Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde. I absolutely loved John Malkovich, though.

Saturday, 3 April 2010


A kind warning: I'll be pretty explicit here, so mind the censored warning more than in other posts if you're bothering to read them. I'm not being explicit because someone might read this, I'm explicit as I would be if I had to tell a shrink about most everything that goes through my mind, and I'm acting as my own shrink here, much like an Oompa Loompa in Willy Wonka's factory.

I hate squirrel logic. You know, from "The Sword in the Stone". When they turn into squirrels, both Merlin and Arthur are chased by female squirrels, desperately trying to (find a) mate. Arthur asks why this is, and Merlin explains that as far as the squirrel is concerned all that matters is that he's a male and she's a female.

I think that's why that guy asked me out the other day, squirrel logic. He saw me, he figured he'd like to mate and followed standard procedure. I won't say I don't understand squirrel logic, I feel it: I can tell I need a boyfriend, I need some contact, I need a good snogging session and it's best if it can result in finally getting laid. I know this is mostly hormonal, and I'm only reacting the way nature wired me to react. I also know it's this kind of thinking that leads to wanting to be with 2, or AOB. It even explains those creepy Q dreams. On a very raw, instinctive, irrational level my body is screaming at me, telling me to find someone to copulate with already. I know, the language. I think so scientifically, when it comes to these subjects. Except for D, but he's an exception to very much everything that comes to mind.

I'm not sure whether it's odd or not. It's probably just very obsessive, whether it's my obsession with him or my obsession with other people (and whether or nor those are the same obsession). Whenever I try to daydream, think of what it would be like to be with someone else, I always end up wanting to be with D. I've tried to imagine holding hands, kissing, hugging, and even performing oral sex. If you're reading, yes, that's why it's censored. I'd be freaked out if you aren't. Going back to what I was just writing, every hand is D's hand, every kiss leads back to his lips (which surprisingly dodges 2's fuller lips), every hug simply must involve his strong arms and broad back, every penis is his penis.

When I imagine what it would be like to be with AOB, we just hang out and sit closer than usual. Everything goes downhill when it comes to getting closer than that, height is an issue. I can imagine looking into his eyes, real close up, but everything afterwards is just weird. I can imagine us holding hands, and talking about everything, about nothing. I can't even imagine resting my head on his shoulder. That's what tips me in on just how much hormones had to do with considering him in the first place. It makes no sense at all, when you consider I can't picture a situation that would lead to us getting together, and I can't imagine what it would be like if we ever got together. The sudden rush, the desire to be around him, talk to him, be close enough to smell him? It's all instinct. Except for the times when I want to just talk to him, that's both my need for company and how pleasant I find his company and insight.

When it comes to 2, I can imagine everything up to the instant before we can kiss. Everything past that point is hazy. We could hold hands, play a bit, and even gently tease each other. No more. Seriously. I can think of ways and reasons he could break up with his girlfriend, reasons he'd choose me over her. I just can't think of what an actual relationship (of any kind) might be like. So, as much as my body would like to carry his babies, I don't rationally see why or how I should.

As for 3, I can see how rationally we'd be perfect for one another. It's easy enough to picture being married to him, kids and everything. A relationship could easily bloom if he comes back as a professor and I tutor his students or something along those lines. I could come up with witty mathematical games and equations for him to solve that could read as sweet, loving messages to drop into his pockets when he least suspects it. I can imagine everything I could do to be the perfect woman for him, from being supportive, to being sweet, playful, nerdy, and even a smouldering temptress on request (more often than not, silent ones). He's got the strong arms, the broad back, he's tall, he could really care, he could truly love. However, he smells. That does it, I can't be with him because he smells, so all mental images of proximity are necessarily awkward because I'd have to try hard to pretend to ignore the bad smell.

That's it, you know? That's all I've managed to come up with. A fling with that guy who used to teach me linear algebra, the one with the long curly hair was easier to imagine. Dreams aside, because the tickly hug was too weird, something screamed "he's amazing at giving oral sex" and some side of me said "go for it!", which leaves the rest of me wondering what the fuck to do with a man who's only good at oral sex and I can't imagine an actual relationship with. No, really.

So I'm stuck wanting D, because trying to want someone else only reminds me of how badly I miss D. Maybe, because I've only been with him, when I imagine doing stuff I've done with him I try to imagine him to do it with instead of someone else. But there's more to it, I think. When we kissed, when he hugged me, when he fondled me, when I try to remember, a part of me wants to believe he loved me and meant every loving action. Wild, kinky, playful sex is so much more appealing when he's involved. All that goes through my mind when I remember is "I'm yours, do what you will, I just want you to be happy". But these thoughts are not raw, instinctive calls from nature. I don't think so, at any rate.

I therefore refuse to use squirrel logic, because I know a different kind of attraction, and it yells at me for listening to mother nature. I can't follow instructions on command, not like that. It makes me too much of an animal. I already feel like any mammal when I'm not wearing a bra. Imagine mating, just for the sake of it. *shudders* I can't do it. Not on cue, not when I can clearly see what the "right protocol" is on time to follow it. I want a relationship, and I wish it wasn't just hormones which lead up to it.

I've just realised, they use this argument in tv shows all the time: horny people end up together, whether or not they intended to go to bed with each other to begin with. You see, if I were in a tv show right now, and I were horny enough wanting D, around anyone who's horny enough wanting whomever else, we'd be bound to have sex eventually, just because we're both horny and close. It must happen often enough in real life, and I can tell it's happened at least once to people I'm close to: consider A and her snogging sessions with less than random acquaitances and friends. Imagine if that got ahold of me and I ended up with the next horny man near me. Goodness! Can you see how wrong it would be?

Having said all that, I have to admit I've found myself quite desperately wanting a penis to help get rid of this urge to please. I relish the thought of giving a blow job and seeing the silly smile that results from it. All the more reason to stay away from men, I guess.

Thursday, 1 April 2010

Does it matter?

I had a dream last night where I was with some guy. Indigenous descendant, a bit shorter than myself, pretty ugly looking. I might've borrowed his face from a classmate, but I'm not sure. We were in a party of sorts, and at some point a lot of couples (us making one of them) ended up in a huge bed, making out and apparently about to have sex. People broke into the party and put a stop to everything. What worries me is, I didn't like this guy, I wasn't even enjoying myself, but if the party hadn't been suspended I would've gone through with it. He later realised I wasn't into it and apologised for doing so much as kissing me to begin with, but the truth is I let him. That's where it all went wrong. So disturbing...