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Sunday, 30 October 2011

Hair falling off like crazy

A few dreams from last night. In one dream I was in a tropical rainforest, in a car. I believe there were bad people involved, and they were kidnapping a kid. I'm not sure what I was doing in this particular dream.

In another dream I was with others and we were getting a car full of things to put a huge party together. For that we had to buy supplies from venezuelan thieves. I believe some of the people I was with worked for the police. I remember there was a table tied to a pick up and I decided to tie it better so it wouldn't be so unstable. When I was about to try the nylon I took a strand of my hair for practice. Then I realised I'd taken a lot more than a strand. Then I realised I had a 1'x2'' bald spot on my head, just above my right ear and I freaked out. I went to ask my mum for advice but nothing could be done. There were lots of moths in the house by then. A huge black moth stood on her face for a few seconds even as I warned my mum that it was right next to her.

Last dream I remember involved my little one. We were at the house and my mum reprimanded her for jumping on the couch in the living room. I called her to me but she wouldn't come. There was some food put out for her but again she was told off for eating it out of the kitchen, so my mum took her there. Instead of letting her eat in peace she opted for trying to get her ears in a pony tail. The poor thing... When they (my mum and the woman who works as my aunt MT's cleaning lady) let her be I tried to feed her, if only a tiny bit of food at a time.

Saturday, 29 October 2011

Kind French grammar nazis are welcome

I won't be going to French class this month. I've mentioned that, right? Well, I've decided to take up French films and French thoughts to make do so I can somehow manage to finish the book I'm studying with in December. EBF has agreed to chat with me in French, at least as much as he can. It all helps. If you were to stumble on this blog and know more French than I do, you're welcome to kindly make all appropriate corrections.

On y va.

Je viens de voir "La Môme" et "Cyrano de Bergerac." J'ai vu "Cyrano..." à 2am, et "La Môme" il y a une heure. Quelle mauvaise disposition la mienne! J'ai pour tout pleuré! La nuit, j'ai pleuré parce que Cyrano aurait d'aimer en silence, en donnant ses mots et son âme au soldat idiot. J'ai pleuré parce que Roxanne l'aimait et ils n'ont pas eu temps d'être ensemble. J'ai pleuré quand Cyrano a été tué. Aujourd'hui j'ai pleuré parce qu'Édith s'evanouissait, parce qu'elle chantait, parce que Marcel était marrié avec trois enfants et je voulait m'identifier avec Édith en lui aimant. Quelle disposition de miserable! Quelle disposition si stupide! Il faut que je le note: ils ne sont pas des films romantiques. Vraiment, "Cyrano" je l'ai choisi pour raison d'autre qu'il était le premier film que j'ai trouvé en français.

Comme parenthese, je voudrais faire deux observations. La première, que je suis surprendue par Marion Cotillard. Je n'esperais pas de le voir comme ça, et je ne me rappelait d'elle dans le rôle principal. Elle ne jouait pas la muse, l'inspiration, la béquille de quelqu'un d'important. Elle était incroyable. C'est triste qu'on ne la voit pas dans ce type de rôles souvant. La deuxième observation, c'est que j'aime Gérard Depardieu. Tout simple, je l'aime.

Le soundtrack? "Sonata No. 8 (pathètique)" de Beethoven.


Potpourri

I can't remember much about my dreams last night, but I'll try to keep record anyway. In one dream I was by the beach with two men, not unlike the guys from Baywatch (I never really watched the show, it's funny to recall it in dreams now). One of them was thinking of getting it on with some good looking woman at the club the beach belonged to. The other one warned him not to be serious because this girl's father was a very influential man.

In another dream I was with our little neighbour, the annoying little girl. She asked me and others out to play. I remember failing miserably at making snow balls. The moment I threw them in the air they broke into pieces and fell mid-air instead of actually moving forward.

Last dream I remember was from a dinner party at my uncle's place. There were european aristocrats and politicians. I remember a Russian guy. I remember looking at plates hung on the wall. My parents had just come back from England and were supposed to bring a plate for my aunt's sister. It never appeared.

No, wait. There was another dream. I remember being in a bus with my sister and then realising the guys from summer school were there. I was telling them something about the guy who gave me the cheesy eyes line. Not sure where that was going, or how it ended. Ok, that's it now.

Friday, 28 October 2011

Demo

I woke up smelling like D. No, really. When I was about to shower I noticed. I didn't smell like myself. I smelled like D. Damn.

Thursday, 27 October 2011

Doubleplusfuck, a double post

Didn't quite belong with the last post. I feel like shit. Like numb shit. I can't seem to hold thoughts together, and I can't bring myself to feel anything in particular other than miserable in general. I've been playing Adele's "Someone like you" on repeat since yesterday. Pretty much nonstop. It helps. A little.

I keep going over the conversation in my head, as is usual in me. I almost want to read it over, except I'm afraid to. I know I'll find more things to worry about. I shouldn't have said I had a boyfriend once, for the record or for any other reason. It was pathetic. SmTn was just trying to point out he'd understand if I felt I had to limit my contact with him to be respectful to a boyfriend, when I get one. Or if I get one. Can't remember his words. It was uncomfortable, reading that. It's more uncomfortable yet when I remember it because I know I just had to bring up the fact that I had a bf once. Not that he'd care. Not that it matters. Not that one fucking bf means anything, not D, anyway. Why did I feel the need to tell him that? Why? I almost deleted the message but instead excused it with a huge "sorry, too honest slipping out" parenthesis. And now I'm biting my tongue.

I can't keep myself from coming up with ever more impossible scenarios where we could be together. If that weren't bad enough on its own, I have to add the fact that even those impossible scenarios where we meet are horribly guilt-ridden. There is no rest for the wicked. Is that how it goes?

I, uh... V for Vendetta was on last night. As usual, I cried with Valerie's letter. It's just that this time I wanted to cry and needed an excuse. That excuse was Valerie's letter. SmTn was too nice. I really can't bring myself to be sad about our exchange, only about how horribly misleaded I am, how I can't have him, how he's too good and actually true, how he's the big man and I'm the insecure child. It's always my fault with me. You already knew that. I already know that. I already knew he had a girlfriend. I already knew it. I knew it couldn't work out. I knew it.

I feel miserable.

For what it's worth (which isn't as little as one might think), I'm almost glad LesMisGuy didn't show up for class today. I love seeing him, yes, but it would've just added to the overall feeling of numb helpless confusion.

Shameless, how timely

I went to look for Sfer today. He was busy talking to some girl. The office door was open and as I sat on a nearby chair I overheard a lot of what was being said. Nosy, yes, but it couldn't really be helped. The girl had cheated in an exam. Sfer was in a particularly good mood and made a point of being overly nice, telling her what the procedure was for such cases and how he'd rather find a way to avoid cheating in the future than have to punish every offence. The girl talked out of her ass. The WHOLE time. At one point, she excused her behaviour saying she only did it at the very last minute to answer a question she didn't know the answer to because she didn't study. Somehow that argument evolved into "it's a cultural thing here, you know." I was outraged. I'm still finding it a bit hard to digest. To be thinking such things when elections are coming up this weekend... frankly...

Wednesday, 26 October 2011

Long overdue, "the talk"

I was up late last night, hoping SmTn would be online. He was. We talked about cooking and other things, and then I asked if he was awake. He asked if there was something important I'd like to discuss. So I started.

I don't need to say he was lovely, and agreed with me, and tried to make sure things work out for the best, right? I'm saying it anyway. He was lovely. I'm worried he might be a bit naïve, though. He proposed a 2 week (maybe?) break. If he realises this is a wrong as I think it is, he'll call it quits. In the meantime, we're both hopeful romantics. He even said something about me getting a boyfriend. It was an itty bitty little bit weird, but it's the thought that counts.

I showed EBF the conversation, or most of it. He pointed out SmTn's use of language is very cost-effective, very mathematician-like of him. He said it was a grown ups' conversation. He said I should be proud of myself for being so mature. I'm having a little trouble with that. I'm having a lot of trouble with a number of things. One of them's the constant mindfuck of getting SmTn and LesMisGuy in my head and not knowing what to do about either. I said I want to ask LesMisGuy out, but I'm wondering how good and idea that is. EBF pointed out I shouldn't ask him out until I make sure I'm not just switching the players of some silly game I don't know the rules of. Very sound advice. I suppose I'll post back when I have more thoughts about this all. I'm still very much a mess.

[9:25pm edit]
I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock. I want to crawl under a rock.

*Nazgûl shriek*

Tuesday, 25 October 2011

Socially awkward moments of the day

Ran into a few people around campus today. Between that and the fact that, not just my teacher, but some fellow classmates are sorry I won't be joining them next month for French class sort of upped the social skills points count. And then I ran into one of the twins from school1. He mentioned something about his programme and I sort of thought it was his brother who studied that. To be clear: I knew which twin he was, but I switched their programmes in my mind for some reason. It still must have come across as me having mixed the two up, which would be embarrassing. Not that he would care too much. But then I fucked up changing subjects very awkwardly. Yeah...

Number two. We were out of class a bit earlier than usual, so that by the time I was walking out it was 7:00pm, and not 7:20pm or so. People from the stochastic processes class were around one of the buildings I walk by on my way out. Read: LesMisGuy and others were out. LesMisGuy was chatting with ExamGuy, and maybe someone else. He looked at me. My natural response to that, if I know the person looking at me, is to wave. I think it's only polite to wave or say hi or something. Not that everyone greets me back, but that's another issue. So...

Me (looking in LesMisGuy's general direction): is that.... yes, it's LesMisGuy... he's looking my way... *handwave*
SweetGal: Hi!
Me: the fuck? Where was she? I hadn't seen her... Hi!
LesMisGuy: *waves back*
Me (flustered): I want to run away. I don't want him to catch up with me. Fuck, this is uncomfortable.

Not that he would've caught up with me, let's not be silly. But I was suddenly flustered and I felt weird about having done something quite so ordinary as greeting him from a distance because he was looking at me and I know him. I clearly can't handle being flustered. He clearly has a very strong effect on me, even from a distance. I'm contemplating asking him out with a "if you have time for plans that don't involve dressing up this weekend, would you like to go out for a drink?". I'm not 100% sure about it just yet. I did agree to go out with CtThumbe and L3, so we'll see about that. Also, I wonder how weird it would be to suddenly ask him out yet again on account of nothing but the fact that I waved at him and he waved back. I don't even know if I was supposed to stop by to talk or something. Technically I would've deemed it inappropriate to interrupt and wouldn't have bothered anyway, but this time I just wanted to run away because my heart was racing and I was worried about blushing. Not that he would've noticed in the dark. Right...

To be fair: SweetGal is sweet. She doesn't know it but I love her for it, and for smiling ever so nicely when she greets me. She just surprised me when I was busy thinking of LesMisGuy.

Just like that

One of them freudian dreams again. About SmTn. I thought I was done with those, but no. I had a dream where I was back to the place where the summer school was hosted, and so was SmTn. Again, it was his last day there. For some reason school1 was there too and SmTn was around the school, taping videos. I was busy with a number of things and before I could go meet him (he was waiting for me) I had to go take a shower. By the time I could meet him, he almost had to go. To avoid the noise from some kind of fair that was going on at the school, we climbed a tiny hill nearby, which was covered in short green plants and light green and purple flowers on top. We sat down, and since we were in a bit of a time schedule, lost no time kissing. Just a short kiss. He lay down and it was a bit of a Spiderman kiss, but it was nevertheless lovely. He left in a hurry after that, and after thinking about it for too long I ran out after him, hoping to be able to hold a message for him to read as the bus left. For some reason that involved going through a fruit and vegetable store where the cashiers were quite rude, buying mangos and looking for pieces of cardboard I could write on. I was short on cash but some guy nearby (from the school, presumably) let me some cash. I don't think I made it to the bus station.

In another freudian dream, I dreamt about my little one. In my dreams my parents had gotten a new dog, and to please me they'd gotten it from a shelter (as opposed to buying it) because dogs in shelters need the help. This wasn't a dog, though. It was a goat. A black and white baby goat, full of fleas the size of mosquitoes. My mum bought a special vacuum cleaner hoping I'd shower the goat with it. I remember showering the goat, just not with the vacuum cleaner. Not sure about much else that went on in this dream, except there were bits that seemed to have been borrowed from some Halloween special, zombies and creepy people included.

Monday, 24 October 2011

Rogue thoughts

And hunches.

In no particular order: something about the way my mum insisted on having our picture taken during the trip yesterday almost made it look as if she were sick and knew it was bad. Maybe I'm wrong, but I got an odd vibe.

I'm not sure why, but for the last week or so I keep calling "baby" in my head. Sometimes to SmTn (throwing in his last name, for good measure). I wondered today how likely it would be for his girlfriend to be pregnant. It's not as farfetched an idea as you'd think, is it? Maybe it's the "SmTn's a huge international flirt" thing settling in, but it's becoming harder to take him seriously. I almost forgot. For a reason unknown to me, I keep saying it as "vavy", not "baby." Odd, huh? Well, "son-in-law." Oh, and Google didn't take long, it's not really from any other language. Yeah...

Unrelated, promise: during class today I suddenly started thinking of LesMisGuy. I hadn't thought about him quite so much in a rather long time. I went back to thinking of how wonderful he is, and how lovely it would be to be with him. Not sure what that's all about, but it was a nice thought to entertain.

Upsetting

I had a dream about my little one last night. In this dream it was a clone, an equally sweet dog fertilized in vitro with her genes. She smelled just like my little one and, though I can't remember her smell now, it was oddly soothing just to smell her and know it was her. She was brought here by someone else, and she wasn't mine. I even remember wanting her to hop on the bed with me and cuddle, but I didn't think it correct to teach her to jump on beds, lest she get reprimanded by her owner. It goes without saying I started my day in a melancholic mood.

On other news, no news of SmTn. And I'm starting to wonder if he's not, in fact, a huge international flirt. Not that I have anything to go with it, I just... I don't know, really. I haven't managed to get any decent amount of work done this weekend. Fuck.

Sunday, 23 October 2011

Sexually liberated prude

Bwahahahahahaha!

This just in: A is scandalised and disgusted by the pictures a classmate from school2 posted on facebook. Namely, pictures of her at a strip club, the kind where men get naked for women. A says it's disgusting, and I can't think of a real reason why.

While the men in the pictures aren't particularly attractive to me and I'd be far down on the list of people wanting naked strangers in near proximity, I fail to find what's so wrong. If anything, I figure watching (more than) half-naked men dancing must be hilarious, and dancing on stage with them must be kind of fun to remember later. A sort of agrees but then points out she'd never post such pictures on facebook. I ask why. What am I going to think of the girl who posted them? Why would it be inappropriate? Why would it be so wrong?

Bwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha!

A just answered. She's thinking the girl who posted the pictures is a slut for posting them. If I weren't busy laughing I'd wonder what it is they teach in her gender and sexuality classes if she still believes in slut shaming.

I will now attempt to prove she's way out of line judging women like that when she doesn't feel the same way about men who go to strip clubs.

Nope, she doesn't see it. She admits to also thinking her friends who go to strip clubs are kind of whore-ish but she changes the name and uses a diminutive, like somehow it's cute when they do it. I'll be damned... So, I have to ask: does she realise she's trying to defend slut shaming?

Headfirst plunge into popular culture

Family roadtrip today. Something to do with a favour my mum asked 25+ years ago, which somehow related to my dad getting certified. I'm not sure. It wasn't that far away. If the car's meter is to be believed it was 40km tops to the town we were headed, but it took 1.5 hours to get there (give or take).

Going through a step-by-step recount of this would be pointless, so I'll just pick up a few observations I made here and there.

1) I can't help but notice how religion and magic are intertwined around these parts. In church, the priest asked people to raise objects to be blessed (dogs, car keys, water, figures), like somehow they'd be granted special powers. All the cheap things sold around the church were designed for this purpose.

2) It's funny (and very sad) how religion comes in as a replacement for a governmental institution. How? This particular figure of Virgin Mary is supposed to bless sick children so that they may grow to make it out of childhood healthy. You can see where this is going. I don't see how stuffing sick children in a crammed church with other sick children (and sick people, and dogs) would help. As a side note: my mum mentioned we would've brought my little one to the church if we thought it could make her better. Bollocks. We should've taken her to the vet without worrying so much about it being expensive to pay for the surgery to remove the tumors.

3) I will be damned: the priest actually called people to not sell their votes in the upcoming elections. And then he asked them to vote for good christians, as it were. *sigh*

4) While we're on the politics front, there was so much political propaganda, there were so many fliers, and they were all so exceptionally shameless... I don't know where to start, so I probably won't. I'll just make a remark about how they had a car caravan and some of the cars in it crashed. Fucking idiots...

5) I was a bit traumatised by two things. The first was a yellow labrador I noticed in a parking lot. It looked so happy and sweet. And then I noticed it was limping. And then I noticed one of its front paws was raw. The thought terrorises me and it makes me want to cry. Same goes for a dead dog in the middle of the road. I didn't dare look.

6) People in small towns are, in general, so nice. And I love that they don't need reasons to be nice, they just are. I realised I bend quite a few of my misanthropist's rules for this, like taking bits of cheese offered by vendors and at least pretending to like it until I'm far away. Not so my parents. Nevertheless, there's something quite refreshing about leaving the city and finding people who are naturally easygoing and smile when they greet you, even though you don't know them.

Something at my door

I just heard my door's spring, which woke me up, and I decided to write down my dream as I remember it, in case I forget it later.

I dreamt that SmTn chatted with me. We were both online but I suddenly had to go run errands with my mum and my sister, so he was left alone online. When I got back he was no longer online but he'd left me a video of him talking, telling me random not-too-meaningful things. Just, talking about his day, walking around the house, whatever. In this dream, I later had a chance to be at his house. I was looking for him but I found him asleep. His room looked fairly luxurious. Very thick mattress. Quite a few useless gadgets for decoration. A small table at the feet of the bed, a chandelier on top. I almost lit the candles on it and then remembered the girlfriend would know about it. SmTn was asleep on the bed, two crumpled up pieces of paper with my handwriting about categories on them. I figured the girlfriend could see them, so when I noticed his clothes on the floor next to him I snuck the papers so the clothes covered them. It wasn't until I left when I realised the girlfriend just might go through his clothes for laundry and find them. And then I hoped she wouldn't mind, seeing how it was all maths.Goodness...

In another dream, I had boyfriend, sort of. He was allowed in the house with me and my parents gave us a room where we could be alone. My sister timed us. This practice had been taken up by my aunt MT's daughters at some point, and they bought extra time off of the one taking the time by doing one another favours. When 10min were left, my boy said he'd like to say goodbye to my parents, so we went to their room. They were in bed, bare chests, with a young boy. It was weird.

In yet another dream my dad got me at some drag queen reunion the president was in. The president may or may not have hosted the reunion. There was a stage where people performed and my dad took pictures. My parents were in the audience and later I remarked I was ashamed of them. My dad for taking too many pictures at any given time and my mum for something else I can't remember right now.


Not that it would matter much, but SmTn slept on the right side of the bed.

Thursday, 20 October 2011

I'm a coward, but you already knew that, right?

Right when I thought of giving up hope of him going online, but still had to work on the differential geometry homework assignment, I resigned myself to try and make sense so that the easy exercise actually pulled through as easy as I knew it was. Couldn't do it. And then SmTn went online. Time change over there. Of course. Right... So, early morning for him, and he said he'd go fishing with his friends later. I didn't get to bring up the subject of the e-mails I've drafted. At one point I asked if the coffee had kicked in yet but he didn't answer. He ended up helping me with my homework, I felt sheepish, he had to go pick his friend up, I had to sleep. Truth be told, he said he was smiling and so was I. It's incredibly lame to put it that way but he always makes me smile, and truly makes me smile. Damn... I did send an e-mail telling him there's things I want to say and can't be said when either of us is half-asleep, so that if we didn't manage to meet online for such a time I'd just hit send on one of the drafts. He can probably guess at it, but, you know, even though we were completely just friends last night I still need to tell him I can't live with him hiding to talk to me. In no uncertain terms.

Wednesday, 19 October 2011

How unexpectedly appropriate

I had two dreams last night. The first one (check the labels, would ya?) is the censored one. In my dream, A, N1, N1's parents and I were supposed to have sex. Not that it would matter much, but N1 didn't know the first thing about putting a condom on. The idea is creepy enough so I won't go into depth on this one.

Second dream: I was a high class call girl, actually very likely borrowed the whole Belle idea, with Billie Piper to play me, sometimes. I had a huge apartment. It was all white, minimalistic. Just a small living room and a kitchenette and then a short hallway to what would seem to be just one room. Except there were many of them. All of them SO BIG. And very luxurious too. Several bedrooms, all the beds undone (I think I took turns sleeping on the beds). A client was just about to leave. Short white guy with black hair. He'd left me 3-4 pieces of jewellery behind as gifts. Most were horrid. One was a necklace made of several golden chains and a gigantic crystal which could be attached so it hung from the side. I took it off and wore the necklace, indulging in thoughts of how heavy the gold was, how pretty I looked and how posh it made me feel. I remember feeling miserable in that huge apartment, and hiring some boring man to sleep in the house with me, just so I wasn't alone. Strange dream indeed, eh? And then I log on to twitter and find out through RuPaul, if it's true, that it's the sex worker's day today. Heh...

Now, on other news. EBF's breaking down. Won't disclose any of it here for privacy's sake. I'll just point out it's almost poetic when you contrast his place in life with mine. I told him to write and send me whatever he writes. Not that I'd read it unless he's ok with it, but I figure it almost always does good when he writes during breakdowns. Plus, he doesn't have internet access where he lives any more, so he'll need something to keep busy and somewhat sane. I don't suppose he'll want the roommate seeing him in bad shape.

On not exactly news... SmTn hasn't been online. If he doesn't show up tonight I just might have to drop him an e-mail. It's just getting more and more complicated to do just that. I keep changing my mind about what I want to tell him and what I actually should tell him. Something about how words should be more precious than silence.

Tuesday, 18 October 2011

I need a rock I can crawl under

So, adding to the already ever-present urge to crawl under a rock from the whole SmTn having a certain future wife and mother of his babies he cheats on with me? LesMisGuy showed up for class, which could be a neutral or even a nice thing had I anything to hope for from last night's dream. Come the break, he didn't leave. We almost exchanged glances when I got out to go pee. When I came back he was standing next to my seat, talking to some other guy. I had to squeeze between the two to take a seat and I felt miserable. It's not that I couldn't even say hi (how weird would that have been, interrupt them like that?). It's that I couldn't even just sit there because they were next to me, and when they moved away so they weren't standing right there it was also bad because by then I felt like I was "undesirable" and needed to be avoided. Add that to general feelings of all kinds of shittiness, would you?

What's it to her fuck damn it!?

My mother washed my shirt, the one I was wearing when my little one died. It was well hidden in a bag with black wool. She had NO business washing it! Why did she rummage my room looking for it? Did anyone tell her to go look in the bag of wool? NO! Why? It's all I had left of her, what's it to her if I keep it!? FUCK.

To think all I had to write about was my dream from last night. I had a dream that I was in class and LesMisGuy was there and he smiled at me and it was lovely, but then he came and sat next to me and asked if he could borrow something from my bag and I said it was ok. So he took a pad, which was on the side of the bag  (and not in the usual small pocket I use for pads). I was going to use some cheap psychology to analise why I'm feminising the men I have feelings for when they're already burly, hunky, manly men. Fuck that. My mother washed the last remnants I had of my little one. 

Monday, 17 October 2011

For crying out loud! Shut up, me!

I have a feeling that SmTn will be online tonight. That being said, the only thing I've managed to decide I have to say is "I don't know who's more naïve: me for thinking you wouldn't have to sneak around to talk to me or you for thinking you can keep this up." Everything else is pretty blurry. Nevertheless the thoughts remain in my head, and as I'm wont to do I've been making myself sick thinking everything over a bit too much. I've fortunately managed to work a bit on the thesis, for a change, so I don't feel quite so useless this weekend.

Here's how it is: I couldn't help myself and I looked up average marrying ages by country. As it stands, SmTn will most likely be getting married in two years' time. If Mexico is any indication I'm supposed to be getting married in three years' time. Not that it matters, me. Two years or any number of years, he's still going to marry his current girlfriend unless something goes horribly wrong and nothing will because he's fucking perfect. The fact that they may both be a tiny bit old to be having children after that is why Europe is running out of babies, but it's beside the point. I still want to ask SmTn how old he thought I was and why the fuck it matters to him, anyway.

Forget it, me! We're NOT getting married! I want to acknowledge the fact that if EBF's experience is anything like his, I understand why it would be shitty for him if I just called it quits and told him I don't want to talk to him ever again. I don't want it to turn into a melodramatic conversation where I turn into my girly girl mode because I'm sure he won't appreciate it. No talk about feelings or just how shitty mine are. No telling him about the drafts unless he asks why I haven't written back yet. No need to play the victim or tell him I'm almost willing to suck it up and be miserable if it will make him happy because I'll be miserable anyway when we stop talking. No, he WON'T be miserable like me. He doesn't need us, me. He already has it all, he's just enjoying the sights. I want to ask him what he thought would happen and I want to tell him what rational me knows will happen.

Love, things never work out for us. Let it go already, would you? No, it doesn't matter if both of our silly hopeless romantic sides think alike, it just CAN'T be and we know it. If life up to this point is any indication, remember, precious, that things never turn out the way we want them to.

I want... what silly hopeless romantic me wants. If possible without going mad or having to rely on schizophrenia to make it happen. That's exactly the thing, though, isn't it? He means too much to me. So much more than I could ever mean to him and that's precisely why this is so fucked up. Can't say any of that, though. No I won't, no we won't. If I do, I know I'd be doing it just to try and coax him into saying I mean a lot to him and as badly as I want to hear that we know it won't do us any good. So...?

Damn it! Stop it with the "Midnight in Paris" soundtrack! It brings far too many silly thoughts to mind and I can't take it. Thank goodness the film's over now but I can't shake the urge to... I shouldn't give them the chance to be down on words, should I? I shouldn't indulge in turning fantasies into half realities by putting them down on words, someone somewhere could make sense of them...

Something tells me... I should get a chance to be with other people. Other men, namely. I can't help but wonder if things wouldn't have worked out with LesMisGuy had I never got into this whole SmTn mess. Wouldn't it have been lovely with LesMisGuy? Isn't he just gorgeous? And smart? And sexy? And funny? And all around wonderful? Why can't I go back to feeling the way I did about him? Why must I get lost in dreamlands? Couldn't LesMisGuy have been a bit more insistent? I'm sure that if, confronted with the cold, hard facts, I would've chosen him over SmTn, no second thoughts. But it's all so distant, and my mind's only Oh! so twisted...

[11:40pm edit]
Nope, not online. Fuck.

Sunday, 16 October 2011

2 cents (plenty more, actually)

I got to talk to EBF today. Take note, he just might need to know this in the future: he got back with N2 three months ago today.

The conversation mostly revolved around the e-mail I sent him. I can't exactly say it was enlightening. The fact of the matter is, I don't really need more information. I've already considered whatever outcomes could come from several different opinions. I still haven't made my mind up, though.

EBF asked:
- Can't SmTn and I be just friends? I wish we could, but it seems to be off the table.
- Is it worth the warm fuzzy feelings? *sigh* I'm afraid not, no. Not on the long run because I'll be sure to get my nonexistent hopes up.
I asked:
- He doesn't need me, what's in it for him? Playing a lost game and enjoying the sights.

Well? I still haven't made my mind up. I already know why he went ahead even though he has a girlfriend: it just felt right. I already know we're more than "just friends" and it seems unlikely we'll be able to turn back to just that. I think I know why I didn't call it quits in August: I was trying to be a good "something something on the side." I'm not sure why he brought up the age issue as an impediment, and I don't know if it's wise to bring up the fact that it isn't. I mean, how much do I want to tell him, anyway? Do I even get to ask questions again?

Can I ask him why he sneaks around to talk to me? Can I ask him if he realises our relationship, this whatever we have thing going on here, has an expiration date? Can I just disappear? Can I tell him how uncomfortable this whole thing makes me? Do I get to ask if he thought I was older? Can I ask him if he actually thinks it's the age difference that's the problem? Should I ask him about his assumptions about me? Do you suppose he judges me for being inexperienced? Should I tell him I've discussed this with EBF, and tell him I realise it can be hard on him too but it's killing me? Do I wait it out and see if I somehow stop feeling so bad about it? Do you suppose he noticed my ghost messages? Can I just go on as if nothing had happened. Should I ignore the last bit of his e-mail? But I don't want to... I want to talk about this, no matter how shitty it makes me feel to have to read the truth.

I suppose that leaves... waiting. Waiting for him to get online. Waiting for him to talk. Waiting for him to bring up the subject. Maybe. Except I want to bring up the subject, get that over with. I'm just not sure we haven't discussed it yet. Well... maybe not on these terms. Not in terms of him actively cheating on the future mother of his children by talking to me. Do I even want to go there? Do I actually want to ask him about his plans for the future? Goodness...

Friday, 14 October 2011

My day today

My day today consisted of going to French class, having lunch, catching up to this week's TV shows, and teaching maths. I was supposed to meet my cousin's cousin at 4, except she had to go get some measurements ready for a Halloween costume, so it had to wait until 5. And we weren't done until 9. And she's coming back tomorrow morning. *sigh* I'd say I'm doing it for the money, and I'd say I'd love to put that money with the money I'm saving up to buy SmTn's gift and coffee, except... well, I'm not so sure about that any more. Right. It also kept me from asking LesMisGuy out, but if him being online from his phone is any indication, he's out somewhere with Wi-Fi and he's been there since about 6pm. So... Back to discussing SmTn?

I have two whole e-mails in my drafts folder. I even considered writing a third one. But I ultimately decided not to send anything. On the one hand, I want to try and even up the to:from e-mail ratio, and on the other, I'm not sure it's a good idea to write the things I want to say in an e-mail. If I'm right to guess he must be deleting all of our conversations, to avoid getting caught, then he'd have trouble remembering everything stupid I can say. I do intend to give him a piece of my mind, though. I'll even use a few of the lines from my e-mails.

Damn I'm tired... Teaching grade school maths is exhausting...

Again SmTn... So, he's not too old for me. First because he's really not. Second because of the Big Fish argument. Third because that's not the problem at all. It's not that he's 30, it's that he's 30 and living with this girlfriend. That means he's 30 and likely to get married in the next couple of years, likely to have kids in the next couple of years depending on how old the girlfriend is and what she does for a living. No problem just yet. I could live with being his friend, and even with being his idiot friend who's got a hopeless crush on him. I can't live with being the other woman, the woman he sneaks around to talk to. He needs to know that.

He hopes our relationship won't change, but I'm not sure what exactly that relationship is, you know? He's not just a friend, and he can't be anything more than that. My every attempt at being just his friend fails miserably. I can't tread the middle ground. It's in another post here somewhere. I don't know if he realises this will soon enough have to be over because it's stupid to jeopardise his flesh and bone stable relationship over this. I'm not sure he knows I realise this. I don't know if he thought I was older. I still don't know if he's not just trying to get me to fulfil some silly fantasy where I'm a British gal. I feel like Éowyn. I hate it.

Let me try and keep track then:

- I want to ask him how he sees me, and how many of the assumptions others made were made by him at some point. I want to know if he can add anything to that.
- I want to ask him what it is we have here, and how he expects to keep that from changing if he has to sneak around to talk to me.
- I should tell him I don't think this will last, and that I hate being the other woman.
- I want to use the Pope/cardinal joke.
- I want to tell him I already knew he's about 30, and that I realise he'll be married and with children in the next couple of years.
- I'll have to ask him where he sees himself in a few years.
- I'll ask him to tell me about things people assume about him but aren't true.
- I'm not sure I want to ask, facebook says it's been 4 years but it might be more... do I want to know how long he's been with his girlfriend?
- I might send a link to the Drinking Boys video. Maybe.

Thursday, 13 October 2011

Spinster it is

I sort of want to call it quits with SmTn. Altogether. I know it's on me if I'm too naïve a hopeless romantic. I do. But in my defence I've done my best to be just a friend when I have the good sense to remember that's all we can be. And he plays it too sweet, or diverts the subject from being just friends. Last time we talked I said "but we're just friends, right?" and he said we're more than that because we have a history. I said I knew what he meant and how we're not exactly just friends, but truth is I don't know what to make of it. As it stands, it doesn't look good. If I try to play it cool, ignore it, and keep up the just friends angle, whatever he does, I risk him getting caught or growing out of it. And he'll snap out of it, soon enough. You know he's actually 30? He mentioned that in his last e-mail and said he was probably too old to be a something something for me [sic]. His words. Goodness... it's not that he's 30. I couldn't care less. It's that he's most likely going to be married and with children in the next 5-7 years and he's technically cheating on his soon-to-be-wife by sneaking around to talk to me. I'm the other fucking woman and I fucking hate it. If he grows out of it without getting caught he'll just leave me being the fool that I am.

The hopeless romantic me is hoping that I stand a chance (I don't.) I'd be in the wrong if I tried to keep this up knowing he's cheating, hoping he'll get caught because it's just evil. I don't want that for him. I don't want that from me, or for me. I don't want to be responsible for breaking up a couple that lives together. There's a lot of commitment involved in that and I can't get in the way without feeling so incredibly shitty...

If EBF is right, being in the position where you connect with someone while you're in a relationship is also very shitty. I don't want to blame SmTn. I just hate the circumstances, you know? I don't know what it is he wants from me because the just friends angle doesn't work. I don't know if there's anything to be assumed from his relationship, if he's sneaking around for me. I just don't know. I can't make anything of anything here.

For the time being, I almost want to send him an e-mail, a harsh, angry e-mail. I want to ask him what it is he thinks we are, what it i she sees in me, who he thinks I am. I want to tell him what I feel, how I want to crawl under a rock when I think of being the mistress. I want to tell him I feel like he's using me, and in a sense I think he is. He's trying to get a last taste of the bachelor's life before he makes the big commitment. Kind of like a mid-life crisis, I reckon. As soon as he realises he's ready he'll grow bored and we'll be out of touch in no time. I don't think he realises this yet. I almost want to point it out to him but I don't want to come out as a $1 shrink. It's up to him to see it, isn't it? Fuck... I think I'll be stuck a spinster dog lady. This is not adding up nicely. D used me. SmTn seemed perfect and then used me. And I almost wanted to run after LesMisGuy when I realised he'd stayed for the full length of today's class and felt more and more ridiculous, until I purposefully let him get away from me. I'm not sure if I'm in the best mood to ask him out tomorrow, but I sort of want to. We'll see. I left EBF a very long e-mail asking for advice. Maybe he'll help me out and I won't get around to sending SmTn a harsh e-mail. I just might end up writing it anyway to get that over with.

Wednesday, 12 October 2011

Not sure how appropriate that tag will be in a day or two

Dear SmTn,

I'd be remiss if I didn't say I'd rather avoid the whole girlfriend subject. You're clearly the bigger man (heh), but I still want to be a "big girl" and say I'm ok with it. On a very rational level, I am. However, the thought of it makes me want to hide under a rock. I'll do my best not to ask about anything that could involve her, but if I stray, please lie.

Ever childish and socially awkward,

Me.

PS: Sorry I lied. My heart actually clenched itself up into a knot and sank in my chest. I still can't shake off the feeling completely.

Tuesday, 11 October 2011

*sigh*... of all the ways to waste time

I had sort of made up my mind to work on the thesis, because it turns out I have a lot less time than I thought. ThPr will really have to get his shit together, and I'd better start working a lot faster too. My mind was set on reading a little about the things to come and getting a few things down on words. I gave myself some time for leisure looking at the newest YouTube videos, I realised the new glee episode won't be up for another two weeks, and impatiently went through the usual websites, looking for something new. Nothing much.

Except for the ridiculous law trying to penalize abortion, which is depressingly close to actually pulling through. I'm not sure it's down here anywhere so I might as well say it: if it's my responsibility, and granted everything pointed at a healthy pregnancy, I wouldn't get an abortion. I reckon the three special cases considered here by law do demand more thought (risk of me dying, risk of serious malformation, rape). I'm not going there. I'm just saying that if I'm ever sexually active and I get pregnant I wouldn't get an abortion no matter how unprepared I might be to have a baby. I'll take that responsibility with me. I still believe other women should have a right to choose. It's a damned hard choice to make, and live with, but it's a choice worth having.

Ok, political rant over. I sort of just wanted to write. I felt like writing. Lame. But if I don't write whatever comes to mind on the blog I'll end up writing another e-mail for SmTn and he's trying to keep up with me so I'll give him time to write back instead of bombarding him. I could just go to sleep, but I'm staying awake just in case SmTn logs on. Also lame, I know. I still want to talk to him... even if I'm dead tired and I could really use some sleep. I'll be up until 11:30pm or so in case he logs on.

On another subject... I feel like I'll eventually drop the subject altogether, the way things are going, but I sort of had to report it anyway. LesMisGuy went to class today. He didn't say hi. He sat sort of close to the door, though. So when he handed in his homework assignment he actually had to stand next to me. He was facing the other way, though, the whole time. I could almost swear he was putting his back to me on purpose. I felt the tiniest electric vibe there, which could or could not be the old attraction, a small spurt of hormones or pure tension. I don't know. It was weird and we're still not talking and it seems weird, but when I went out to the bathroom during the break he was talking to ExamGuy and I half considered stopping to say hi and then just turned, feeling stupid about interrupting their conversation. (Which I happen to know had only just begun because LesMisGuy was pretty much falling asleep there). Right.

On yet another subject... a soundtrack. Sometime after lunch I got Adele's "Someone like you" stuck in my head. So there.




[11:23pm edit]
HA! He's online!

Holy fucking shit... right off the bat we talk about it being morning and coffee, and he mentions he's on his second bag of coffee and then there's a third and then he'd have to come back for more. My heart fucking stopped for a second. Not being sure he was serious I said I wasn't sure how serious he was but I'd be glad to see him and ask him out for coffee. He wasn't serious. Fuck. How stupid does that make me sound? For the love of...

[1:20am edit]
Fuck. I uh... the girl I talk to during French class asked who SmTn lives with, I didn't know and got curious. I had to ask. I just fucking had to ask, didn't I? The gf of course. Damn. Fuck. Shit. Motherfucker. Cunt. Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck!!!!! The feelings, I don't know how to deal with them. My heart just feels... tight, in a knot... and not letting go. Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!!!

[2:50am edit]
Can't sleep. A while ago SmTn told me to go to sleep, so I obliged and logged off. I even put the computer to sleep. But I can't sleep. My heart's in a knot, weighing down on me, and I'm too pumped full of adrenaline to sleep. I lie on the bed and think he's got a girlfriend and then... I just feel miserable. I even had the nerve to look her up. Not so pretty, I'd say, but SmTn said A looked pretty to him so... And, to make matters worse? In her profile picture she's with a dog. A brown spaniel. I'll be fucking damned.... FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Monday, 10 October 2011

I didn't think he had it in him

My dad passed his certification exam. After four tries, he had better, but I was sort of expecting him to fail again. I didn't think he had it in him. Congratulations to him.

Think two posts ago

Read it? Got it? Keep it in mind.

I was wondering if I hadn't disclosed a bit too much info. SmTn wrote back this morning. Still the sweetest man alive, that much hasn't changed. He says he sort of knew what I told him (he's likely enough very good at reading people, I'll give him that) and that he liked that I shared so much with him. I won't comment on that now. Maybe not in this post at all. As a postscript, he asked if I had any recipe ideas for lamb. I've never cooked lamb, so I could just tell him that and go without making suggestions. I've thought of a few. I even started looking up recipes. And then it hit me. He's the guy who buys the cheapest piece of meat and finds a way to make it edible with simple Mediterranean recipes. He doesn't go about buying lamb. So, what can I make of him wanting to cook lamb? He's trying to impress someone, and it certainly isn't me. Yes, I know. I already knew. I just... it's a collision of the worlds, if you will. It's weird. I want to be bigger than that and help him anyway, but it will have to wait until tomorrow. I won't write back today. I'm supposed to work on a homework assignment for differential geometry and as I mentioned before I failed the last exam. That's really not working in my favour. Then, I'm not sure anything is.

Never thought I'd put those two labels together.

[10:04pm edit]
I couldn't stop thinking about it until I'd come up with a whole menu: mashed potatoes, roasted tomato salad, lamb with chermoula sauce and then some fruit left in liqueur and sugar over ice cream for dessert. Over the top much? I only gave him suggestions for the lamb. I sent it anyway because I figured he may clearly be the bigger man, but I still have to act like a big girl, don't I? Also, on proof-reading for my reply I realised he'd mentioned it was a big piece of lamb. Not sure it makes an awful lot of a difference, though. I still got bit by the jealous bug and it sucks.

Contest and war

I'll come back to this later:

- SmTn in a red corset and black panties, pin-up girl pose in a big 60s chair, spinning on a stage. He was in a swimsuit contest for women. A woman (Swedish) was shown as his competition. She was like the girls in that Hawaiian Tropic tanning contest from I can't remember what movie. Except maybe a bit prettier. I'm not 100% sure whether SmTn being in the contest was meant to be a joke.

- SmTn and gf fought and argued behind closed doors. A Rita Skeeter-like reporter followed close behind and eavesdropped behind the thin walls. Not that there was anything to be understood, between the sobbing and the unfamiliar language.

- Rumours were spread about how SmTn had got it on with some middle aged blonde woman during the last trip he took. Not sure where this fits in.

- WWII. Hitler was presumed dead, which wasn't actually true, and there was a name given to this "period of calm." Believing him to be dead, troops were moved to Hawaii, where the Germans were fighting Americans, Canadians and French people (can't find the right name, sorry). I remember mountaintops by the sea, high cliffs, and no volcanoes (oddly). The troops were trying to carry out their dead, men, women, dogs and horses, out but the Germans wouldn't allow it. Some of the bodies, now I remember horses and dogs, were skinned and mutilated. I remember a horse cut in half, and headless, skinned bodies of dogs barking. The Germans wanted to take a small group of soldiers away. They were badly wounded, and would've died anyway. As they took a corpse first, one of the men inspected it as it passed by them. A blonde woman with him inspected the dead body too. They pretended not to notice anything much. A while later the woman looked at herself. Apparently there was something in the corps they wanted the Germs to be infected with, but she'd got it too. And she knew the signs and knew it was so bad it was really bad to die from this thing, whatever it was. So she moved away, rolled, and jumped off a cliff, hoping the fall would kill her.

Sunday, 9 October 2011

All I needed was an excuse

I'm not really working right now, even though I should. I've been staring at the list of posts, all labels next to them, for a while now. I realised I really need to add SmTn to the list of nicest people I know. In fact, the award is long overdue. So there. Sweetest man alive, and one of the nicest people I know: SmTn.

Now you know all I wanted to write about in the first place was him. On the one hand, I've been wondering just how stupid it was to send my last e-mail to him. I may have mentioned a few too many things. I edited the e-mail a few times, and ultimately decided on something (I hope) didn't come across sounding too serious. And then I really gave away a lot of information and it's not so much that I mind sharing it as me worrying that he wouldn't want to know about it. It would be nice for him to share such information about himself, but I wouldn't bet on him doing it. I'm waiting until tomorrow night to send an e-mail about "Amélie" and how much I loved the film. That should somehow "tone down" the last e-mail. Maybe. I'm not sure.

Nevertheless SmTn's been on my mind so much lately. I can't really excuse this behaviour, it just happens. I'm having lunch and suddenly I remember him. I'm brushing my teeth and I think of "Amélie" and how I love him for the fact that it's his ultimate favourite film. I lie in bed and imagine a future where we can meet, we've been together for a while and I get to say "I've got a wizard message for you: 'I love you.' " I want to kiss him so badly... I want to hug him.

I'm dying a little here, wondering how long it will be before it all goes south. Wondering if he won't eventually outgrow the crush he had on me, or how long it will take for him to just up and marry his gf (I do fear it's a very real possibility in a not so distant future). I wonder if I could even go meet him, or if he'd come meet me. I wonder how anything is supposed to work out and why I hope against hope that something will. I go back to imagining laying in bed next to him, staring into his eyes. I get lost in thoughts of sitting next to him on a couch, his arm around me, my head on his shoulder. I think of him saying he'd like to imagine me mad, if only because I'd be blushing, and wonder what he'd look like blushing.

I think about him. All the time. Too much. I want to tell someone, but I can't. I can't tell him. I can't tell A or N1. I don't think EBF will want anything to do with it. I've yet to send the e-mail but I actually left a line or two in white text. He won't read it unless he has a non-white background, or drags his mouse over the text, or somehow opens up the message source instead of the e-mail itself. I realise I shouldn't have written it in the first place, being inappropriate to tell him I wish I could watch movies with him, that I felt close to him, that I'm sorry we're so far away. And yet I want to tell him. So I do, and don't. I'll send the e-mail tomorrow... we'll see if he catches on to it.

Saturday, 8 October 2011

Not being useful and all...

I was talking to N1. The subject of her thug life crush crashed, so she asked about SmTn. I did my best to be vague, but couldn't help but mention movies (will come back to this in a bit), and how I think SmTn is the sweetest man alive. She went back to talking about her guy. I teased her a bit. She went offline.

A was at her apartment, and we were chatting. She asked a question I'm uncomfortable with: do I want to go? Do I want to take my uncle's offer? I'm more satisfied than ever in my belief that my answer to that is mediocre at best. Goodness knows if it were up to me I'd run off to meet SmTn. N1 raised the also valid question of whether or not SmTn is planning to come here. My answer to that was also mediocre: I don't think so. But I do so wish he would...

Last time we talked SmTn mentioned he's watched the Harry Potter films and Primer. He'll even give Waking Life a try if I like it all that much. His ultimate favourite film? Amélie. You know I don't use the word lightly. Believe me when I say I love him a little for it. At the time all I remembered was how Amélie kissed guys on their eyelids and had a suicidal pet goldfish. Just now I watched the film again. It. is. just. beautiful.

I'm not completely sure why, and I'm sure hormones are to blame for much of it, but I've been weeping since the last 10min or so of the film and I can't bring myself to stop.

Friday, 7 October 2011

Can't be useful, not just yet

Oh dear, where to start?...

On the one hand, I lost way too much time keeping up with the Bloggess last night. It should have stopped at reading her post, but then the internets went all in and I couldn't keep myself from watching hell break loose. So I wasn't useful yesterday night. Yesterday afternoon I was at a seminar and after that I had to write SmTn an e-mail (for no good reason, really, and I didn't even expect an answer except he wrote back today *yay*). Then the day before yesterday I helped my sister out with a project. And today I could be busy getting a cake ready for my grandmother's birthday celebration but it was ultimately decided it would not actually take place today (not that she'd notice, anyway) but Sunday (as I had foreseen, if you remember.) Now, we got our grades for the differential geometry test. I scored a 2.5. Not very good. Not at all good, actually. I'll really need to work harder than that. Which reminds me I've got homework I haven't done yet. Shit.

So, today, I'm not doing anything productive. I helped with lunch and a cake we won't use for the celebration. I'm supposed to help my sister out again. I've considered giving LesMisGuy a call to see if he'd like to go out tonight but I'm in no mood to go out. I haven't worked one bit on my thesis, and all I can think of is I should really write back to SmTn. Not that he'll be reading immediately, or anything. I just want to write back. There may be more to it than that. There's something about his last e-mail.

I told him about my day, sort of, so he told me about his. And he went bike riding up and down a hill. Except it's autumn and this time of the year it's not "relatively safe" as it is in summer, in his own words. I'm not even sure how it works out in the biking scenario, but he said he had to make a choice between very high chances of small damage or very small chances of big damage. I, uh... yeah, my mind drifted. He opted for small chances of big damage, but came out unharmed. He said he wishes he had a video of it. He said he'd like pictures of me so he can help me decide what I look like.

I can already tell that thing about the damage and the chances is going to keep me awake at night.

Tuesday, 4 October 2011

Freudian (different), censored and censored

Freudian: I had a dream where I got to talk to a professor who knew what I can do about the minor and he said I was good to go and could, in fact finish everything next semester. It's kind of sad that I have to dream about this sort of thing.

Look at the title again. You've been warned.

I also had a dream about having a penis. More precisely, a boner coming out of my belly button. I even tried wanking it but there was a stretch of skin attached uncomfortably to the belly button in a way that pulled and tugged. Not particularly painful, just uncomfortable. You know, in case having a penis coming out of my belly button (and hiding again completely when I gave up) wasn't weird enough.

In another dream I was in a room with A, some other girl, R1, Jr, and Gr. The guys were all naked and sporting boners. The other girl made to "tend" to one of them and I couldn't decide between the other two so I gave them both hand jobs. They were really enjoying themselves and I got an immense satisfaction out of knowing I was responsible for it. They both seemed to really like it when I applied pressure (quite a lot, really) just under the glans, in that spot D used to like so much. I'm not even sure if that's a thing with all guys, I just remember it being a thing with D. I might've borrowed a visual of his penis for the boner above, by the way. Except my penis was straight and his bends a bit to the side. Not that it matters. Some other girl came into the room and interrupted us. We all had to stop because she wasn't supposed to see, or know or something. I was a bit let down because the guys were about to finish. A talked to the girl who'd come in and I wondered about ways to get away with the guys to finish but it simply couldn't be done, not even in another room. So that was that.

If there's anything to gather at all from all this... I don't suppose I need to say it. I might ask LesMisGuy out this weekend. Maybe. We'll see.

Sunday, 2 October 2011

Anxiety attack

One week off and I didn't work on my thesis or study for the damned exam I've got tomorrow. Also, I spoke with my uncle and my aunt in Tmp and the looming uncertainty of whether or not I'll manage to graduate is starting to hit home. I off-handedly mentioned I might ask if I can transfer credits from the French I'm learning now to try and pretend I might actually finish at some point. A while ago my mum came over and asked if maybe we could cut back on tuition expenses if I did just that. Shit. I don't know if that's possible. I don't even know who I can ask that sort of question. I fear I'll be stuck not being able to complete all the credits. I fear I won't graduate in time and my uncle and aunt are in a hurry. I should've paid for full tuition this semester, except we couldn't pay for it. Most minor programmes take a lot longer than one semester. I can't exactly see how I'll pull it off. Even if the courses I've taken are any good, I'll likely enough need to take more than one to finish the minor. I shouldn't have said I could transfer the French credits. Chances are I can't. I can't do a minor in languages because they take 5 semesters and I've only just taken enough German for two. Apparently it's 18, not 15 credits I'm supposed to complete and I haven't a clue how.

I've wasted time trying to find minors that could fit and there are none. I can't squeeze one into one semester. I just can't. I'm freaking out now. About the minor, about going away, about waking up early for French tomorrow, about not having studied, about not having worked on my thesis and having to meet ThPr tomorrow. I can't do it. I don't even have someone to talk to. The only person online is LesMisGuy. Even if we'd been greeting one another, even if we were better friends... I can't exactly discuss this sort of thing with him. But then with who? I wish SmTn were online. He'd at least help me stay online long enough to work a little on the group representations theory assignment. That way I'd study a little.

And look at that... now I depend on him to work, to function. That's so lame... I can't sit still. I can't stop shaking. I can't stop writing. I can't do anything productive. I've wasted so much time and my solution to breaking down because I'm realising I fucked up is to waste some more time. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I don't know what to do. I don't know who to talk to. I don't know how I'm going to pull off the fucking diploma to go away. I don't know if I want to go away. I'm not sure going off to Europe is a real solution, either. No... not really. And putting things off will only up the expenses. I need to start making money. And instead I'm wasting money. I'm not sure taking French lessons is any good. I'm wasting precious time. I'm not really learning as much as I could. I... What am I going to show ThPr tomorrow? What the fuck am I going to show him? We were supposed to meet last week at some point. I was supposed to show him my work. I was supposed to have managed to solve the picture problem. I'm supposed to graduate next semester. Why did I say that? Why?

Evil giant stingray

Last night's dreams... crazy as ever.

In one dream there was a group of fishermen. One of them was doing particularly badly and had woken up a few hours earlier than usual to try and catch up to his limit. However, the other fishermen caught up to this and woke up as soon as they could feel him up and about and started to get ready to go fishing extra early too.

In another dream I was somewhere at the north of the country, where it's hot and dry. It looked an awful lot like the road to school1. I remember being in control of a car, and the road only had enough room for two cars at a time, but a lot of cars went alongside the road, or made shortcuts. It was pretty hectic. We were coming back from some rich people's estate, and there was a thought in the back of my head about how they should hire poor people to work around the clock to get the economy moving. In particular I remember someone mentioning there was no bar/café.

Then there's another dream where people from school1, including R1 were in shallow water. I was a little way away, and could see a giant stingray not far from where some people were. I called out to them to tell them to be careful, for they could easily mistake it for an old rug or some other piece of garbage. Instead of just moving away quietly they screamed, ran and made a fuss. I even remember N1 playing with the stingray's sting. Next thing you know, the stingray is running after them trying to spray poison on people, thrashing everything it could. We all ran into buildings, trying to avoid the outer rooms as the stingray could still get to us. At one point they appointed a woman to thank the stingray for stopping already, and I remember she and others went into a bathroom. I had to pee, so I followed, but I had a hunch and just ran out before I got a chance to pee just in time to get to safety before the stingray destroyed the bathroom. I kept running from building to building, I believe they were campus buildings. When I finally felt safe I made a phone call. I'm not sure why, but I called Mgrt. It was all very odd.

Saturday, 1 October 2011

This isn't a beauty blog

You've been warned. I just stumbled into a tidbit of advise I'd find awfully useful. Having become a make up amateur, I've given the old winged eyeliner look a try. I noticed my eyes look awfully small and wide apart, which just so happens to be because I have tiny eyes a bit wider apart than would be desirable (the ideal space between both eyes should be about the length of an eye). Looking around online there's no advice on how to adapt the look, and the only suggestions I found were to concentrate the darker colours on the inner third of the lid, as opposed to on the outer V (which seems to be the norm). Nothing for this particular look, as the 40s winged eyeliner usually goes with little to no eyeshadows on the rest of the eye.

What to do then? Simple enough. I just tried this with an angled brush and black eyeshadow, but I reckon it will work with just about anything else. Instead of lining the whole eye, just line the inner and the outer corners. Rather than creating the effect of a fuller lashline (that can be accomplished by tightlining the upper waterline) it makes the eyes look smaller. Instead of making the inner corner line extra thin, I stretched it a tiny bit over the tearduct, where it would normally disappear. On the outer corner I just did a regular flick without extending it to the middle part of the lid, so it's not such a thick line. On the lower waterline I used an eye pencil (very light salmon pink), and I followed the waterline just under the tearduct. I'm pleased with the results: it gives the illusion of longer, not so wideset eyes and they don't exactly look bigger, but they at least don't look smaller. I suppose curling my lashes could work wonders but I couldn't be bothered.

So there. Give it a try if Google brought you here. I wouldn't bother reading any of the other posts.

Snobs, Nintendo, Middle Earth

I remember two dreams from last night. In one of them two women, a human and an elf were baptised and given new names by Gandalf. I can't really decide who these women were, except I know one of them was blonde and the other had dark brown hair. I'm having to guess it was Galadriel and Arwen (human form). At first it seemed they weren't too into it, they just stood at the edge of the lake, where the water started and stared for a bit before actually moving. They walked together, for a while walking just below the water level (even though the water was much deeper) until they reached a spot where a short-haired, clean shaven Gandalf waited for them. They both got new names, one of them starting by U and that was that, as I remember it.

Maybe in this dream A was trying to finish the lyrics to Enya's "May it be," sindarin/quenya (I forgot) lyrics and all. She even put the right accents on the vowels, but I couldn't for the life of me remember the bits she was missing. Mornië, utulië... Mornië, alantië... Something like that, right? Also in this dream where A was writing down the lyrics I was in class with the professor who taught me measure theory, except he taught English, and he was writing instructions for an exam. There was a scribble on the board with colours, and then there were instructions. The scribble looked like a number of things, a fat cat yawning, a horse... I remember saying "horse" out loud when someone asked.

Then there was another dream where I was at sea, in a small stretch of water between mangroves and small isles. There were Nintendo characters there, and I distinctly remember hearing that the guys who owned Yoshi wanted him to lose one of his legs in an accident. Not sure why exactly, but it was a marketing decision to either kill him off or give him a robot leg or something. In this dream, there was an island where you could get your very own rich human snob to keep as a pet, and I was headed there with others. I was swimming and the others went by boat. It resulted in the incredibly uncomfortable bits where I tried avoiding the mangroves at all costs, wouldn't dare step down in shallow water and had to avoid other boats coming my way. This is where it ended, me closing my eyes as another boat went by me, hoping the tide wouldn't wash me towards the mangroves, not wanting to step down.