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Saturday, 30 June 2012

I dream of Jesus

I had at least three dreams last night... In no particular order...

There was a dream where I was at a big fancy party. A and several people (girls) from school1 were there. I remember there were tables by the edge of an opening between floors ending in the first floor, where a rock band was playing. On the tables, laid out with white tablecloths, were different drinks. Glasses of wine, soda and water had been served for people to choose from. I looked around for something I'd like to drink but found nothing. The soda was diet soda, so I didn't take any. At some point, I sat next to Jamie Oliver, who asked a waitress for four little bottles of water. Later, some kind of commotion started with the band that had a crowd in the first floor running out. I had access to some picture showing that the lead guitarist for the band couldn't have been both playing on stage and upstairs within a two minute span. I'm not sure what else happened.

In another dream, I was walking around a neighbourhood we lived in (except we didn't) that looked a lot like school2. My newly orphaned cousins were there and my already married cousin was only just about to get married. Except even in my dream she already had a daughter. I figured out she was trying to get something out of the whole thing to protect herself and her daughter. As we walked, she mentioned it was bad luck to step on red floor (the floor was made almost entirely out of clay bricks). I said she could just float about like I was doing. Indeed, I was floating about 40cm from the ground, my legs bent at the knee and my feet crossed behind me. It came naturally to me, just leaning in the direction that I wanted to move in and letting the wind or whatever force kept me afloat and pushed me do the rest of the work. My cousin gave it a try but it failed. We all eventually got to an apartment where my newly married cousin, her husband, and my spoiled cousin were waiting for us. We greeted, and that's all I remember.

In yet another dream, possibly connected to the first one I mentioned, there was a large crowd in a field. Come to think of it, it looked like some kind of religious sect gathering, except I somehow knew that God was really there. It was getting dark, but there was plenty of artificial light. I remember there was a slope to the field we were in. At some point, God started tossing out lip balms (of the kind I've had for years) of different flavours and I aimed to collect flavours I liked and didn't have yet. For some reason, I also had a bag with some large bottle of some kind of shower gel and I figured I could maybe trade it later for something I wanted. I didn't trade it. When it was all over, I had 3-4 new lip balms, there were two I wanted but didn't get and there was one I got and didn't want. So, as I walked out and noticed Jesus Christ himself at the exit, just next to a short flight of stairs, I stopped to ask him if there was any chance he'd perform some kind of miracle to change the flavour of the one I didn't like. He said no, so I offered he kept it instead and gave it to someone who did want it.

Wait, there are at least another two dreams...

In one of them, I was in the UK with my sister and I had money. I treated my sister to a tennis player outfit, a fairly fancy one, and she was supposed to attend a game wearing it. She was at this game on at least two days. On the first day, we'd just arrived and she wore her regular clothes, for the second time she wore the outfit I'd bought for her. As she tried it on, after having paid for it, we noticed a warning stitched to the lower part of the back. It read something along the lines of "people with cancer must not wear these." And in my dream my sister had cancer. She wore the clothes anyway. Later on, I was with Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber, who was some kind of doctor in my dream, trying to justify the clothes. I somehow knew that he'd forgive me if I'd done a particularly nice, disinterested gesture (which to me pointed at the gift). Though he sort of agreed with this at first, he then asked why on Earth she'd worn the clothes if she wasn't supposed to. He argued these warnings are there for a reason and I couldn't shake off responsibility for it. I felt miserable.

In the last dream I remember, I was with my mum at a handicraft fair. At first we looked around for what was being sold and then I asked her if we had a stand of our own, which we did, so we headed over there and started setting up shop with my sister as some foreigners stared. 

Television as the poor girl's therapy session

I have watched every single Castle episode up to the 23rd of the 4th season. It turned into cheap psychology very quickly.

At first, I noticed that much like in The Mentalist, they're fond of strong female characters and I thought it was great. I appreciated the nice puns and good dialogues, especially in the first two seasons, and I liked the fact that they tried to keep it real (or, as fas as I know, more real than CSI shows). I found myself rooting for the Castle-Beckett thing to work out. It made me anxious. I found myself watching episode after episode just waiting to get a fix of their relationship working out somehow. 

I was tempted to find similarities with EBF (I have to admit there's an undeniable physical resemblance and they do have very similar facial expressions). They finish each other's sentences. They understand and know one another so well. It sort of fell into place and accounts for why everyone who knew us thought we were together or were bound to end up together. Except theirs was a real love interest and there was never such a thing between EBF and me. So... I turned to LesMisGuy because... I'm not in my right mind.

I played Castle and Beckett's arguments trying to make them fit the situation going on with LesMisGuy. The way Castle was into her from day one, the way he waited, knowing he was making himself clear even before he said he loved her, the way  it was "obvious" she cared about him too, the way she was too late to acknowledge any of it. It made me wonder. If I was right, LesMisGuy liked me before I had a chance to like him. But it wasn't that obvious, as there was almost nothing to go on at the time. Then I fell for him, and though I'm shy and I chickened out a lot, I would like to think I made myself clear asking him out. He said yes meaning no at first and I was broken, but I somehow found it in me to insist. Until we did go out. And then very little happened, but he showed interest and I did too, and after giving up again for a short while I gave it another try and we went out again. And we kissed. And it was glorious. But then he pretty much disappeared, even though I tried talking to him and tried asking him out again.

I feel a bit like Castle and I end up worrying that maybe I didn't insist enough. Maybe I didn't wait long enough. Maybe I should have pushed the subject and waited for him to come round. And, you know, if it pans out like I think it might in the show... Beckett will have turned out to have just been horny, desperate and using Castle. I'm not even sure where I was going with all this. Suppose there's a parallel after all: then I should have insisted, but there were two possible outcomes (either he and Beckett are serious, or the whole thing is just convenient). If  there's no parallel... that would be because we're simply not that close and I'm making this all up in my head.


You know, that student of mine? The one who dropped the subject? He wrote again to let me know what professor he chose, how things are coming along and to let me know he hopes everything was coming along well on my side. It touched me. I mean to write, but I don't know what to say. I wish I could talk to SmTn about it. Or anyone, really, but I get the feeling that SmTn would understand it better and I don't think I remember telling anyone else. I also want to talk to SmTn about being terrified to leave. I've talked about it briefly with A but it just doesn't do a thing  for me. I want to talk to AOB and ask him if he'd like to meet but I have absolutely no money left and I'd like to buy him dinner/lunch. I want to send SmTn a little present with my cousin before he leaves on Sunday but, again, I have no money. 

I've noticed EBF on line for the first time in weeks over the last couple of days and... I don't know what to say. Literally. I don't know if I want to talk to him, so I don't know if I should be writing about the possibility of talking to him. If I wanted to talk to him, I wouldn't know what to say either. Do I tell him I'll be gone come the first days of august? Do I tell him to come over? Do I tell my parents I want no reunion? Do I even say goodbye? How could I know if I want to say goodbye if I don't know if I want to say anything at all?

That leaves... CtThumbe. She'll be back before I leave. I should try talking to her, see how she's doing. And yet... I feel like I can't really talk about any of the things that I want to talk about. 

As it turns out, I can't even bring myself to write about what's on my mind lately. I just look forward to being numb so I can stop worrying quite so much when I'm busy not thinking.

Friday, 29 June 2012

Too many police shows

I've clearly been watching too many episodes of Castle. I had these dreams two nights ago:

1) N1 and I were walking around a park at night. I pointed out it was dangerous. She said it wasn't all that bad. We reached a building in particular where a lot of people had gathered at the reception. It looked like people were being held hostage and "people" included my family. The people holding them hostage included my cousins' uncle, for some reason, and I was given to understand they were nazis. N1 and I just wanted to get out before we became hostages too, but  I remember going to my cousins' uncle and asking what was going on. He told me to run away and so we did. N1 and I ran even as the others caught on to the fact that we were there and started chasing us. N1's dad was waiting for us right outside in a car, and we only just managed to get in.

2) I was in an apartment, high up, with other people. It was warm and there was a big balcony. Leading to the balcony were big sliding glass doors. I could hear something being off with one of them because of the way they rattled with the wind. We were supposed to keep them shut for protection. I looked out and noticed massive arrows (about 1m long, with 5cm diameter rods) passing by. The first arrows came straight at our floor, hitting the sliding doors. When the others noticed, the arrows' angle changed and their number changed too. Suddenly, there were a lot of arrows being shot almost straight up, and the sight of the arrows turned into that of a huge fountain. The sight of the fountain seemed festive, and, next thing I knew, the whole thing took a parade-like tone to it, with birds/planes flying by dropping off confetti and loud noises to go with the whole thing.

The night before those dreams, I had a dream that included my little one and I running around school1. Except instead of it being mostly empty, aside from the classrooms, there was an old country house. She wasn't always herself, too. Sometimes she looked like a white mutt. And at some point, her legs grew like those of the elephants' in Dali's paintings. Very odd.

As for the dream I had last night, we had family over, including my spoiled cousin. I remember cracking a joke about how spoiled she is and my aunt calling me out on it, telling me not to be so mean. I felt miserable and just wanted to shrink down to invisibility. We were supposed to go out with other girls and buy groceries and I wanted to avoid having to go with them, so I just stalled around the house, finding things to do other than leave.

Wednesday, 27 June 2012

Colour me

Hello, dear blog. It's been a while. It's not even that I haven't had the time to write, I've done nothing the last couple of days to keep me from writing. I just haven't been in the mood. 

To recap: 

1) My cousin's wedding. The ceremony itself was (for my taste) awful. We got a right wing old madman of a priest and I didn't have a mind for most of what he said. He implied women have no purpose other than to have children, that men don't quite become men unless they marry, that a married couple should share a bed and everyone should go to mass on Sunday no matter what. He's the god-fearing sort of Christian and I don't appreciate his way of drilling lessons across. This is all coming from the man who said there's no valid reason to break up a marriage so... I'm not surprised, but I'm also very much not impressed. 

I otherwise survived the evening, though the same can't quite be said for my feet. Goodness, even sitting down while wearing high heels can twist feet into the most uncomfortable positions. I'm very glad it's all over.

2) It got me scared shitless to go through with it, but I can now travel to go study. 

3) I miss LesMisGuy like crazy (literally, I'm afraid). I keep wondering what it would have been like if we'd been together all this time. I've been watching Castle episodes and I stopped tow wonder if maybe I'm to blame for not calling. I wish we could kiss (and do a lot more than kiss). I still have short flashbacks of what it was like that night and I go on feeling stupid about it. 

Colour me pagan. Colour me panicked. Colour me hopeful. Colour me hopeless. Colour me mental.

Saturday, 23 June 2012

Suddenly a fan

Neil Gaiman, you. magnificent. bastard! I love you.

I just caught Stardust on television, made the connection to The Sandman and the Bloggess and I'm in awe. It's decided: as soon as I can get my hands on pretty much everything he's ever written I'm reading it.

Friday, 22 June 2012

Must I?

I've been thinking about LesMisGuy a little too much today. And for no good reason, either. Want to know what started it? I opened an old notebook, one where I kept a stack of cow-shaped post its. One of which I one gave to LesMisGuy and may or may not have read "bored?" depending on whether or not he noticed (and I think he did) that I'd written it and then erased it. Just looking at the silly post its made me feel so stupid, you know? I ripped them out of my notebook and threw them under my bed. Every so often I'll get a similar impulse of feeling so stupid for having fancied him so and I freeze and hate myself for a bit. When I see, read or hear anything that reminds me of him in anyway I stop to curse my stupidity. So... yes, on that front, I'm a mess.

On an unrelated subject, A had surgery today (minor). She went online (I daresay) just to let me know she'd be going under soon. I must admit I'd forgotten it was due today. I didn't dare call, so I just sent her a message and we texted a tiny bit. She said it was ok and she'd even go out tonight. I made a joke about Wolverine and after she laughed at it that was that. That was  that.

On other news, it's getting unbearable to live with my parents. My old man's mood swings and constant fits of yelling, his conspiracy theories and the way all he ever talks about is how everyone is out to get him make me sick. I'm sick and tired of it. He's just not that good, but he blames it on a boss that's too demanding. He doesn't have money, and it's not directly the fault of corrupt politicians (he was doing fine before, you know) or thieves anywhere, but he continues to blame everything on everyone else. He still can't make progress and can't seem to be able to handle money. I've exhausted my earnings from teaching in university and teaching spoiled brats in wedding preparations, a father's day present for him, groceries, and random bits and bobs that were necessary here and there. Mum said she even gave him some of the money she borrowed for him to pay a cab. The man has no money management skills. Where the fuck is he going to get the money for my sister's tuition next semester? He actually bought speakers for the car, even though the car's not working properly and we haven't paid for health insurance. Really? A pair of bloody speakers before health insurance? What is wrong with him?

It doesn't get better with mum, though. She seems to have a complex where she tries to fix everything. She has fucked up friends, a fucked up husband, a somewhat fucked up family and she's always trying to fix things. Even when she could be resting a bit she's always frantic and wanting to find something to do. She seems to believe (incorrectly) that if the beds were done, if there were no dust on the furniture, if all the laundry was done, that everything will turn up, but it won't. That's just not the way the world works and it's sad. She actually cut her finger the other day (but we don't have insurance, so she didn't see a doctor). She's been injuring herself quite a bit lately and part of me wonders if it's not a call for attention. A fucked up one, of course, but when she's hurt she gets an excuse to stop (though she doesn't) and be tended to. It's all fucked up, can you see it yet?

The worst part of it is, I keep thinking of how I have to get a job and start making money as soon as possible. I have to be able to send them money. I get lost thinking of all the things we need money for and it never ends. My parents' debt at the bank (which we're no doubt still hiding from), my sister's tuition, my student loans, the car, my grandmother, groceries, bills, gas, gardening, materials for my sister to work with...At first I thought I'd send money to my mum to pay for my student loans and some extra to my sister, to do as she saw fit while making sure we could afford pertinent birthday and Christmas presents. But then I started wishing I had more money left over so they could pay for health insurance. And then I wished I had money to pay for my sister's tuition. And to put my grandmother in a nursing home that she may stop being a burden. And I don't think I'll be making enough money to cover even my bills, you know? Fuck

I've already run out of money and I didn't get to buy AOB dinner. I didn't get to buy SmTn a birthday present to send with my cousin. There's no way we can afford a damned going away party for me and I don't want one. Thank goodness my aunt and uncle offered to pay for the visa expenses. And travel expenses. Actually, bless my aunt A. She called a few days ago and took the time to check in on me, ask how I was doing and try to tell me everything would be ok when I told her I was panicky. 

I have to stop now. Wouldn't want my sister to catch me crying. Sharing a room blows.

Pee pee party

And now, for some catching up.

You know, a cousin's son (he must be 4 or 5 years old now) was potty trained being asked if he'd like to go to a pee pee party. And it sort of makes sense to tell kids it's a fun thing to do (not to mention how much fun it is for mums not to have to clean up the mess). Since it's a "fun" activity where you pee, it makes sense to call it a pee pee party.

Except I was at a hen party last night for my cousin who's getting married and I have to say, that was a pee pee party (and thank goodness there was no nudity).

I was hoping it would be not so unlike two years ago for the other wedding where we just went to a disco/restaurant and sat down and had a few drinks (non-alcoholic for me) and talked and my sister and I got to leave early. Not so. There was a reunion at some other girl's place first and that's when I panicked a little.

There was a penis piñata, there were penis keychains that squirted if you pressed them, there were penis headbands, scantily clothed people on banners and balloons... and, have I mentioned a penis piñata? Because it was shaped like a penis, but it was full of toys and confetti. The toys included plastic penis shafts, penis heads, nipples and vulvae on ice cream cones. Oh, and the most horrid abominations made out of Barbie sized buttocks on one side and close up vulvae on the other. I'm quite glad it didn't get quite as awkward as it could have, but I would have been gladder if none of it had happened.

Once we made it to the place where we were planning to party, it got quite a bit more uncomfortable, and it had nothing to do with the fact that we had brought along the penis headbands. It had to do with the perverts (mostly foreigners) who kept gawking at us. There were also a quite a few kids just out of high school celebrating the fact that they were only just legally allowed in such places, which made them stand out as particularly ridiculous among grownups... but let's go back to the sex tourists (oh yes, I just did). I don't condemn prostitution or promiscuity. I do condemn sexual objectification. I don't have a mind for being stared at quite so rudely when we go out to have fun. Yes, I dressed up. Yes, I dolled up. No, you're not allowed to look at me like I'm a piece of meat. I realise some girls go out for just this purpose. Do realise that we don't all go out with this purpose in mind. Even when we try to look pretty. So do understand when I tell you it pisses me off and I won't tolerate such behaviour without judging your bad manners. You want to find someone to have sex with? Well, I'm sure they're not that hard to find, so stop wasting time and get to it. Spare us from the "gawk while you wait" period. 

On an also scandalous (to me) subject, my cousin's interview with the priest getting them married. I won't go into details of how I think this particular marriage is doomed. I will just point out that the priest asked them for valid reasons why they would end the marriage and the only acceptable answer was "none." I have a lot of issues with this because it opens the door to so much abuse... Goodness. How come cheating isn't a valid reason? How come any kind of violence isn't a valid reason? Whatever happened to doing what's best for you? If you fuck up and choose the wrong spouse, you should be allowed to back out of it before it bites you in the ass because the priest who married you sure as hell won't protect you and I don't fucking care what any god says: you put yourself, your safety and your sanity first, marriage/god second. Just... *Nazgûl shriek*

I might know why I had a dream about SmTn last night: I kept thinking he's one lovely foreigner. Bless him for it. I also kept thinking I half-wanted to run into LesMisGuy, but I'll cut myself short right there.

Cooking with SmTn

Oh dear, I'm forgetting a bit too quickly because I can't quite get my computer to run properly... 

I woke up from a very long dream including SmTn. In my dream he'd come here and he'd been here for quite a while already. He'd seen me up and about the usual everyday chaos, including a trail of a mess left behind by my grandmother. He'd joined me for different occasions. He'd let me treat him to whatever I could think of. He intended to treat me and others to some kind of typical dish (I thought of empanadas). I remember I offered to help him make them. I wanted to spend time with him. I wanted to be with him until he had to leave.

In another bit of a dream, there was a bear infested with ticks being ridden by a man and a woman in very old fashioned clothes for some kind of a play/opera.

I know my little one was around in my dreams about SmTn. I intended to show her to him and say "I know I said she was dead, but here she is!". 

Wednesday, 20 June 2012

Yellow death

I had a very long and persistent dream last night about a creature who kept showing up everywhere and killing people. I associated all signs of danger to the colour yellow. The creature looked like a wookiee and behaved like a zombie, sometimes being attributed special powers to chase people. The first victim I remember hearing of who was somehow close to me was my religion teacher from school1. It was her husband who did the rounds going from classroom to classroom, preaching as he told people of her death. It was explained that she lived where the creature had last been seen, a poor neighbourhood in Ctg. 

Next thing I know, I'm running up and down a tall building and so is everyone else. We were all looking for a safe place to be in. I ended up with my sister and the Jewish girl from school1. She said she knew someone in the building, some rich old people who would keep us safe, and so we took the elevator, helped a woman in crutches get out at another floor before us, and knocked the door. When the door was opened, there was no furniture to be seen. In the living room there was just a big mattress on the floor, and three people (two men, one woman in between) lying on it, diagonally. I said hello after the other girl, but couldn't find a way to greet the woman, so I sort of skipped her and then felt rude for what was left of our time talking to them. The two on the left were a couple, I'm not sure if the third was involved with them.

After a while, two men walked in and took their leave to go to one of the empty rooms a little further back to have sex (it was implied: I was a little confused by all this). As they walked in, I realised that the front door wasn't locked. In fact, it wasn't even closed. So I ran to close it. As I did, and as I was about to finish closing it, I suddenly felt something pushing against me from the other side. I asked for help but none came. The others didn't seem to care. I somehow managed to close the door, though there was no way to barricade it then and there and I started thinking of escape routes. I figured that, since we were on a 6th floor at least, if I ran into a room with a window and got cornered, I would rather jump off the window and have my sister follow than be killed by the creature. As I took a chance to run to one of the back rooms and waited for my sister, who didn't come, I thought about all this. It will seem strange, then, that this room was a floor above the entrance and was at sea level.

As I locked myself in and made sure no one could get to me, I closed two sets of doors, one with a big metal bar running from side to side and locking in at the door. After that, I checked the window, which opened at a pier. There were plants just outside the window by the doors I'd just closed, and I was afraid it would run in to the rest of the room, making the doors useless. It did. I did what I could to rearrange the plants, knowing the creature would have no problem stepping on cacti and/or moving them around but it was all I could do.

I remember waking up anguished, holding a massive gooey wasp abdomen the size of my palm. I don't remember what it had to do with anything.

In an earlier dream, my uncle had invited us all to an apartment he had in Ctg, big enough to house all of his family and us on the side. I walked around not sure of which beds to choose for my sister and I, wondering what their beds were. Apparently, my uncle owned the whole building and leased it to others. A man staying in another apartment had jumped out a window and the window was left out, in the middle of the way, without any glass on it. It's odd how no one seemed to care that a man had committed suicide and were rather just annoyed by the fact that this huge window was now in the middle of the way.

Before I forget... There's one thing I forgot to mention: last night, before falling asleep, I had the oddest thought of LesMisGuy crying and it persisted for a while. It got me all kinds of worried.

Tuesday, 19 June 2012

Moving around in my dreams

The one constant in the dreams I remember from last night, is constant moving around from one place to the other. Yes, I realise that's one shitty title. In no particular order...

There was a dream with my little one and I walking around a park. When I introduced her to someone curious I explained she was a samoyed mix (and she was, in fact much like a smaller than usual samoyed). 

There was a dream where I was with someone who was supposed to be in my German class, buying something at a store. It might have been Mt, or someone who reminded me of him. I think he wanted to buy me something to eat. 

There was a dream with the guy from my Russian literature class. He was preparing the stage for some kind of play and I decided to help out at the last minute for one of the shows, which had me staying very late in university. I can't remember any of it but the show was supposed to have been epic. 

There was a dream where I was Christine Daaé. Sometimes I sought the Phantom out, going where I knew I'd find him. Sometimes I ran away from him. Very odd dream. In my dream, the Phantom wore no mask and parts of his face were a very dark shade of purple.

Sunday, 17 June 2012

Could be true, you know

I had a dream last night about SmTn. He'd written an e-mail telling me how he'd met his wife (meaning, he'd gotten married by then). Apparently, said e-mail was supposed to be very much like an e-mail I'd sent him from Las Vegas. Later on, in another dream, perhaps, he'd come over. We met with other people from university and I remember telling him to meet me for lunch, but come the time for lunch Tz was there and wanted me to have lunch with her and other girls from school1. I explained I didn't want to leave SmTn out, so she arranged so he could sit on the table we were sitting at, next to me. There's yet another "scene" with SmTn, one where I went to the place where he lived and met his mum and wife (?). I remember sitting on a couch with both of them while SmTn scooped ice cream for all of us. I also remember "helping around the house" and getting distinct looks from the wife because I did things she had already done all over again "doing them right" and she (of course) resented it. 

There was a dream about LesMisGuy but I completely forgot what it was.

There was a dream about my little one where I introduced her to some woman and her child. I presented her as the sweetest thing ever (which she was). 

Saturday, 16 June 2012

Righter than I thought, The Return of the King

I turned on the television while I fixed (or attempted to fix) bugs with my computer's antivirus and realised The Return of the King was on, so I stayed awake to watch it. Aragorn's coronation and meeting with Arwen made me cry.  I also realised I was righter than I would have imagined when I first thought SmTn was similar to Sam. As a last note, I just wanted to say:

Now that's a proper farewell.

Going north's nothing like going west, though, is it?

Of pigs and horrible people

A just left. She left me a message yesterday asking if I wanted to go out with her tonight, and I felt bad saying "NO" so I said we could meet, except could we make it here and maybe watch The Phantom of the Opera because I don't really have a lot of money. She said she'd come over. To be very honest, I was playing Final Fantasy XII and feeling rather nappy and lazy and I was hoping she wouldn't really come over, but in the end she did. We organised dinner (read: I made us, A, my sister and I, pasta). We talked over dinner. When dinner was over, I offered her some cookies a friend of my sister's had made for us all. She'd left a bag with maybe 7-10 medium cookies and both my sister and I had one after lunch. A took one and asked if my sister and I would be eating any but we declined having eaten some before. I picked up the plates, left them on the sink and went back to the table. We kept on talking and A slowly broke off more bits of cookies and kept on eating while we talked. I offered to go watch the film, but she refused arguing it would be too late by the time she left, so we just kept on talking and she kept on eating. She ate the whole lot of them. She left nothing. 

When I noticed there were few cookies left I found myself thinking You fucking pig. But I couldn't stop myself and she wouldn't stop eating and I couldn't stop her (that would be rude). So I said nothing and when she was done eating them all (sometimes I think she took it as a challenge) she pointed out Oh, look. I ate all the cookies. I tried to act surprised and stated the obvious Huh. You did. I'm a little mad, you know? They weren't even mine. They were a gift from my sister's friend, to all of us and A ate them all. They were not small. She just broke them off and pretended to be taking only little bits at a time like I wouldn't be able to tell that the whole thing was being eaten or something. I don't know... I suppose I could care less if they were just packaged chips, but they were baked by my sister's friend and weren't even mine alone to give to A. It's not like she didn't know, we did say "Oh, my sister's friend brought these over for us." And she didn't fucking care. 

And that's what really gets to me about her. I know I'm self-centred but she can be so mother. fucking. selfish and I can't stand it. I know I got a bit burpy towards the end of the evening and I know it's disgusting but I couldn't help myself but you know what disgusted me a little more yet? The fact that sometimes she breathed heavily when she got excited talking because while she ate and talked about watching over a dozen television shows this semester alone I hated her even more. It was even more piggish and disgusting. It was the bad stereotype of an overweight, food-greedy, lazy fat-ass and I found myself judging her for it. Son of a bitch. I don't want a fucking farewell reunion. And I fucking already sort of told her about it and my mum wants me to host one. But I'll be damned, I don't want to see A. I don't want to see EBF. If anything, I'll try to meet with AOB and with CtThumbe before leaving, and that's it. 

Friday, 15 June 2012

Remembering Rodya

I had an awful nightmare last night where I was driving around with my mum and my sister in the car and we noticed cars slowing down to dodge some kind of accident. As we drove by, it turned out to be a horse carriage. The horse was on the floor, all legs spread out, it's face in (not on) the pavement. The man driving the carriage was desperately trying to pull the horse out of the way. It occurred to me as I saw just enough to know I had to turn away that the horse had to be dead, with its head bashed in against the pavement like that and all. I was reminded of Rodya Raskolnikov's  dream about the mare who was killed by drunk men wanting her to pull on a very heavy carriage.

It may or may not be related to some idiotic woman I saw on the public transportation yesterday. She had a cat in a black trash plastic bag and shook the bag around to make the cat quiet (yeah, that'll do it). The idiocy! How can people be so cruel to animals? And she was wearing a jacket of some department of the mayor's office. Goodness... 

Either way, last night's dream about the poor horse had me wake up frantic and quite desperately needing a hug. It's at times like this when I wish I had someone to sleep with.

Thursday, 14 June 2012


I had a dream last night where I had died but still got to talk to my sister. I was incredibly sad about having died and I remember telling her "when I wake up every morning I'm still dead." So there's that... 

Kitschy phantom

I've got the song stuck in my head and I can't get it out. Imagine who I can't get out of my head either. I don't think the two are related, but I'm not 100% sure...

Stranger than you dreamt it 
Can you even dare to look?
Or bear to think of me,
This loathsome gargoyle
Who burns... in hell
But secretly
Yearns for heaven.

But Christine...
Fear can turn to love
You'll learn to see,
To find the man 
Behind the monster
Repulsive carcass
Who seems a beast,
But secretly
dreams... of beauty.

Oh dear, Ramin Karimloo kind of looks a bit like him, doesn't he?

Wednesday, 13 June 2012

Hello little blog, away from homophobia

As a quick note, I wanted to mention I had a lot of odd dreams yesterday morning but I can't remember any of them. I know D was in one of them, though, which struck me as particularly strange.

I was just "out" checking out YouTube videos. That would be make up tutorials, for the most part, and that often enough leads me to the most wonderful and often flamboyant gay young men. I took a quick look at the comments and some of them were bad enough that I felt the need to come here and hide from all the hate that's not even directed at me to begin with. There is so much widespread ignorance, so much widespread unreasonable hate and there are so many fake pretences of understanding... It sort of made me a little sick. 

"Why don't you just snip it off and get it over with?"


No, really. Do try and explain. Why do you sit through the videos if you hate the person doing them so much? Why do you feel a compelling need to spread the hate? No one's forcing you to watch, no one's forcing you to love. Why is it so wrong to be feminine? And yes, I'll come back to a point I made in another post: it's as if being a woman were altogether so wrong it's insulting to be anything like "what a woman is supposed to be." Who said loving people of a certain gender somehow changes your own gender? Who said your gender is necessarily tied to the set of body parts you were born with? Why would anyone need to shove stupid beliefs about either of the above down anyone's throats? Don't you dare tell me that the existence of fabulous (read: "frowned upon by your particular set of narrowminded beliefs") people is an attack to you. Don't you dare defend your violence and abuse as self-defence. 

Look the other fucking way. Live and let live. Be happy and let others be happy. Whatever fucked up upbringing makes you miserable needs not spread to others who are doing just fine being themselves.

It will sound a little odd to say, I hadn't realised how important it is for a member of the LGBT community to "come out." I mean, I do know it's a huge deal in terms of accepting who you are and allowing yourself to be that person around others. I hadn't quite grasped at how you often end up "asking for permission" to be who you are because so many would still consider it "wrong." If you ask the wrong person, your punishment is living hell in the forms of all the abuse people will feel entitled to put you through, and I keep going back to this interview they did of Kate Winslet where she spoke of a conversation she had with her son...   - Would you rather I like boys or girls, darling?  
Regardless of how unspeakably cute this question was coming from a little boy, or how sweet Kate Winslet was in expressing joyous astonishment at the fact that he even knew he had options, it all boils down to the fact that he was asking for acceptance. And the worst part of it is, no matter how many people accept you for who you are, so many still refuse to allow it and I cannot, for the life of me, understand why. 

"I'm all for gay people, just not for gay marriage." Whyever not, pray? Have you heard of civil unions? Have you nitpicked so much through whatever book you're using as guidance and made it mean whatever you wanted it to so that such a loving God would keep so many of his own away from true happiness? Does such a meaning even make sense? Any good translator would know to make individual sentences make sense within context. All gods I know of are loving and I'm sure in the big scheme of things none of them would deny the way certain people were made. No loving god would wish ill on his own. Why would anyone else following this god's rules? Why would a whole state follow any given god's rules? Aren't we over this yet, the separation of church and government? Why can't we agree that the first has no business trying to meddle in affairs of the latter? Why can't we agree that you just can't tell others who to be?

Again, for those of you tempted to confuse what, to you, are similar evils, don't you dare compare fabulousness to twisted evil of the likes of paedophilia. Don't tell me you got lost in semantics because I'll make it clear for you: paedophiles abuse children. Lesbians are women who love women. Gay men love men. Bisexual people love men and women. Transgendered and transexual individuals need more work than most to adjust who they are to what was given them. Same goes for those in the indeterminate category and I'm sorry if I'm leaving anyone out but it won't change my point. It's abuse that's wrong, and there's none going on in what I just described. The fact that some paedophiles happen to be members of the LGBT community just goes to show that paedophilia is an independent trait. It's abuse that's wrong, I remind you, and that includes the abuse you put LGBT people through. 

So, here's to you, world:

Be reasonably nice, or GTFO.

Sunday, 10 June 2012


I had a very odd dream last night. I was in university with CtW and others and we were having lunch. CtW didn't have money to buy lunch so I offered to lend her some so she'd eat. She refused, so I told her I'd leave half of my sandwich for her and she agreed. I completely forgot about it until I had only two or three bites left, so I made up my mind to go buy her another sandwich at a food court. While I waited in line, just as it was almost my turn, some girl ran behind me and hugged me and held me tight. I have no memory of how exactly this went on but I'm given to understand I cracked under pressure and confessed to all those around me that I'd had an abortion, which the girl felt deserved a hug and some form of congratulation. To be honest, I can't even figure out whose baby it was to begin with or how I managed to do it quite so nonchalantly. 

I've no idea if I've brought up the subject before: I'm pro-choice, and my choice would be not to have an abortion. It's none of my business what other women do with their bodies, and I reckon they have a right to do what they will within reason. Many times it's reasonable to give up pregnancy, and it's more reasonable still to realise this while the "baby" at hand is no more than a bundle of cells without the proper organisation required to make it human. Me? I couldn't do it. I'm far too inclined to blame everything on myself and I'd feel a need to live up to having had intercourse along with any and all consequences. Parentheses over.

I don't know how I managed to do it in my dream though. It just struck me as odd that I'd done it without any major consideration, and without even mentioning it to the father. 

In another dream I was also at some kind of mall waiting in line to buy ice cream or some other dessert. A guy from university, one that CtThumbe had a crush on not that long ago, had apparently grown overly fond of me. So he started hugging me and holding me in the sweetest way and all I could think of was how little I liked him back and how unfair it all was. I think I ended up giving in and deciding to give him a chance but it was all so strange...

Whatever happened to my principles?

Saturday, 9 June 2012

An accomplishment straight out of the 1950s

I'm a bit too glad I made it all the way to this moment in time and it's not because I've finally finished all the requirements to be a mathematician (minor technical problem with a document which will be resolved some time next week, I hope). I made it out of a week of family reunions and non-stop working. I taught physics to the daughter of my mum's acquaintance. I assisted my uncle and my father while they taught. I cooked so much. I helped direct a kitchen. I cleaned. I organised. And I still had time left to do my nails, hair and make up for appropriate occasions. Quite the last couple of days, eh?

Just a quick note of three things, then:

1) I had a dream about my little one. I've forgotten how it went, but I remember she had somehow miraculously cured.

2) I had a dream where someone rang the bell, I went out to open the door and my aunt, who recently passed away, hugged me and held me tight. I had enough time to realise it's my aunt who's supposed to be dead and reasonably freak out, but I can't remember much more other than that.

3) I arrived from last night's family reunion sometime around 1-2am. I turned on my computer, and checked messenger out of curiosity and noticed EBF was online. I went online and immediately afterwards he went offline. All I could think then and there was Je n'ai rien à dire! Je ne voulais rien te racconter! I wasn't even going to start a conversation, motherfucker! And I half-realised I might have because I did have a kicker of a starting line: I was so tired I didn't remember what colour my toothbrush is and was afraid to brush my teeth when we got back. What was the last time you forgot the colour of an item you use every day at least 2-3 times a day?

I do realise that last bit is more than a little bit paranoid and quite petty, but it simply cannot be helped. 

Wednesday, 6 June 2012

Yay for macarones

I'm very tired after having spent pretty much all day in the kitchen, but at least one good thing came out of it: the loveliest little macarones.

I know you're not asking for it, but here's my recipe:

 - 3 egg whites
 - a big pinch of cream of tartar
 - 50g sugar
 - 150g almond flour
 - 240g confectioner's sugar

Beat the egg whites with the sugar and cream of tartar until they're very firm. Sift the almond flour and confectioner's sugar and quickly fold into the meringue. Use a round pipe to make small circles, tap down all peaks with slightly wet hands and pop in the oven at 150ºC for 20min or until they're ready.

Not so hard, eh? Well, how about if we add the fact that I made my very own almond flour? I poured boiling water on the almonds, let them sit, poured out the water, added new ice cold water, peeled the almonds, dried them, blitzed them in the blender and then sifted the remains to get only the finest powder. Either way, the macarones are very rewarding. I'm looking forward to filling them with blackberries and white chocolate ganache. Given I dyed them a warm shade of yellow, they should look lovely with blackberries... 

Monday, 4 June 2012

I hadn't wished dreams to come true so badly in a long time

Is it any wonder I dreamed of LesMisGuy last night? Three times, by my count, I think?

In the first dream about him I was in university watching him defend his thesis. I just happened to be in the classroom and it would have been weird to leave, but I was pretty much the only person there until another two girls, friends of his, came over. One of them sat next to me and seemed to know who I was. She talked to me and explained LesMisGuy really liked me but was playing dumb and playing around a little, going out with other girls but doing no more than kiss them. She said he really wanted to be with me and I distinctly remember asking "are you kidding me?!"

In another dream we were to stay together in some room for a maths convention. We almost had to give the room up for two professors, but nothing much happened there.

And the third one I just woke up to. He'd had to stay the night here, and my mum and I prepared breakfast for him and me. I never saw him eat, though. I remember he was looking for something and my mum asked if he'd found it, I believe he had. He waited for me to get my  breakfast ready (steamed vegetables with a dollop of cream cheese, some white rice and a turkey leg) and waited for me by the kitchen door until I sat at the table. He sat across from me and worked on his computer. He was working on the presentation to defend his thesis with and for whatever reason, I ended up helping him ("If you already have a .tex file, what you want to do is use the beamer class... it will do most of the work for you"). 

I sat down next to him and moved my plate so I could go on eating. He had a presentation with red flubber-like beings and asked if I knew how to make those animated in .tex code. I said I could come up with the drawings but knew nothing of how to animate them, that he's the one with the background in programming. I'm not too sure how one thing led to another then and there, but next thing I know I was sitting next to him with my head on his shoulder and his head resting on mine and it felt so good... Then he turned to talk to me and said maybe we should go out for a drink again and try to "get it right" this time, so the cocktails would have the right effect on me or something along those lines. I started saying "but I thought you wanted nothing to do with me..." and he clearly did, except I don't know what happened and couldn't know because that's when my alarm (which to be honest was set up a tiiiny bit too early) rang and I woke up. We could have kissed in that last dream and I'm resenting my alarm more than a little for it. 

It was a LesMisGuy themed night with dreams about him everywhere and they would have culminated with a kiss if it weren't for the stupid alarm.

Could this dream that LesMisGuy really does want to be with me please come true? Pretty please?

Sunday, 3 June 2012

Dark, but we'll call it humour

You know how pretty much everything's been shitty lately? You wouldn't know the full extent of it because I've failed to keep track of it in the blog, but believe me: it's shitty out there. My parents' friends are sick. A's grandparents are sick. My newly orphaned cousins are up to their necks in debt. My aunt A needs a medical procedure done. Ask around, it's shitty enough.

I made it to university yesterday morning to try and score an opening to present my topology project and guess what? I was just in time to hear our professor got in a car crash and had to cancel all appointments. The one good thing that came out of it is that I got time to go watch the 25th anniversary performance of The Phantom of the Opera with my sister at the theatre. I don't think I had witnessed anything so epic that my eyes watered and I wanted to cry because it was so incredibly amazing. And that's from the overture. It kept getting better. Hats off to you, Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber. Hats off indeed... What a highlight: possibly one of the darkest musical performances and it's the most I've smiled in a long time.

Either way, let it be a goal in life: I must absolutely somehow make it to a live performance of a good musical.

As it stands, I'll have to go to university tomorrow to present my project and get the last signature I need to hand in my thesis. After that it's off to get it digitalised and then turn it in for good, at which point I'll be ready to be called a proper mathematician. It's been quite a journey, and I have quite a lot ahead of me still... But at least that one stage will be over with.

Alas! I can't help but point out I'm not quite over with the LesMisGuy stage, though. I keep wishing I could somehow run into him. I realised today I haven't deleted the last text messages (leading up to kissing and then after that) and I didn't have the balls to delete them. As soon as I came upon the number I thought was his, all I could do was check to see if it was indeed and then hurriedly back out of the messages menu. 

I'm not sure what could possibly happen even if I did, perchance, run into him. I mean, would I even be able to greet him? Wouldn't I just run for the hills like I always feel the impulse to? And that's the thing: I already feel rejected by him and it makes me want to disappear. Makes it all the worse to fantasise of being with him anyway, if only for a one night stand sort of thing before I leave. Have I no self-esteem? No self-respect? No dignity? Well, incidentally... I think not. It actually gets worse, you see. I saw myself fantasising of coming back in a few years and finding him again. Except by then he's realised what I catch I am (not) and wants to be with me. And in my fantasy, of course, it's everything I want it to be because I'd already made him out to be perfect for me. It just takes a while longer to come together. 

I can tell myself: it's ridiculous. Just wait and see. Someone new will come along. I'm going to another country. My luck is bound to change, isn't it? Just wait for it. Someone else will be there and it will be perfect then. Why look forward to the past that didn't work out? If only reasoning with myself ever worked out for good. All I can answer to that is "But I like him! I already think he's perfect! How long until someone like that comes along? What are the odds?" and frankly, I'm not sure which part of me is being more ridiculous out of the two. 

I'm hopeless. You already knew that. I already knew that. I already know that. And that's why I did my nails and made sure they were perfect but now I found two bits of fluff in one of them and it's taking everything I have not to start that one nail over because I should know I can't stay up until it dries again without ruining it and I'm planning to get a home-made facial going on, and I want to get a few days to take long showers to exfoliate and lather myself up with lotion and... there's no ending it. I want to pamper myself with the underlying motive of maaaaybe running into LesMisGuy and being ready to get some action when it happens. Can I be any more pathetic? I know I have no sense of strategy. I know that  if I were to see him it would have to be exactly when I look my worst and can't help but make a fool of myself in front of him. Why am I still thinking about him? Why am I still writing about him? I told myself I'd stop. I thought I was just going to write about how wonderful the performance was and I ended up leaving the subject covered in just one paragraph.

Lest I keep on writing about him, I think I'm going to call it a day and get ready to wake up early morning tomorrow. I need to practice my presentation and I've (evidently) put it off until the very last minute. 

Friday, 1 June 2012


I had several dreams last night, all (as I remember them, vaguely) centred about reunions. Family reunions, reunions among friends... In one of them there was a reunion at our place and my sister's (only known) ex was here with a new girl. He got very upset over something and started singing very loudly and then left. 

Then there's another dream. There's two of them, actually. In the first I was told by someone who was part of a rescue team that they were trying to get people out of a building to avoid certain death and that whomever was in SmTn's apartment (SmTn, I assume) wouldn't open up and respond. He could have almost died. I knew about this in another dream where I was trying to send him an e-mail, except I accidentally sent it when it was only just half-way done and then wrote another tiny e-mail to tell him not to read the first one and planned to send in a third.