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Tuesday, 31 July 2012

I'm forgetting, but I shouldn't

Couple of dreams from last night, most of them connected.

In one dream I was in school1, watching a soccer match with others and A when I was asked if I'd like to dress up for... I can't remember what reason. One of the people dressing up in my team was Roger from American Dad. I was told to wear something like  a bikini, and it turned out the bottom didn't fit me well. It was very embarrassing at first, being so exposed in front of all those people. But some of them started feeling for me and my "realness", so they offered other bottoms to go with the bikini. I ended up wearing something of my own, but in order to wear it I actually walked around half naked for a little bit. I was quite a lot less embarrassed than you'd think, and people didn't stare quite so much.

In another dream, I was with a lot of people from some school or other. I remember Q was there, but so was LesMisGuy and Raoul and the Phantom of the Opera. In this dream, they were doing some sort of activity which was taking forever and I just wanted it  all to be over with as soon as possible. I was avoiding LesMisGuy, but at some point they asked all the guys to write down something, and I couldn't help myself from wondering what he'd written, so I was there just after him to take a look at the piece of paper. He'd borrowed a quote from a man I've never heard of and can't remember any more. I've even forgotten the quote, though I'd made it a point not to. It said something along the lines of "don't change me" and made him into quite the rebel and the misfit. I remember thinking it made him a lot like EBF in high school, except I'd never thought of LesMisGuy that way.

The Phantom of the Opera wasn't really the phantom, but he actually believed himself to be him. Some young man was writing a book about it and had wandered into his lair in a church/cathedral, leaving too many clues and evidence in his book for anyone to go wandering. I distinctly remember some writing (like Sindarin) which was supposed to have been copied from the walls in his lair.

In another dream, after the ones I've mentioned and another I've completely forgotten, I met EBF where there was a big group of people. EBF asked what I'd been up to and in a single day I'd done two outrageous things, one of them being walking around half-naked. I don't remember if I got to tell him about it, but I imagined he'd be quite proud.

Monday, 30 July 2012

A letter I should eventually send (if I can get my aunt MT to mail it for me)

Hello,

No complimentary bag of coffee this time. I'll give you time to miss it ;). Today I'm writing to wish you a hardly-timely happy prime birthday (you're turning 31, right?). 

You know... incidentally, I'm all out of words. I have absolutely no idea what to write and I'm supposed to hand my aunt the letter tomorrow if it's to be sent at all. If I can't make it on time then I'll have to do without the hand-written letter.

Some other day, you should (fingers crossed) receive a present to go with this.

And now... do I say goodbye already? Is it not silly, now, to have a letter delivered with no purpose other than to say happy birthday? Goodness, shouldn't I have something worth saying? Can one be quite so speechless? I do know how I want to end it, 

Your friend


linaThumbe
(finally-a-mathematician)

What else is there to say? Best wishes? Writing him letters and e-mails used to be easy... Whatever is the matter? Do I have anything I'd like to tell him about? Haven't I had any entertaining dreams lately? How about talking about the present itself?

Now, do pretend you got this other page on the same day as the package so it makes at least a little sense:

I'm hoping you'll like the book, even though there's nothing in it about fishing, or even about maths... Well, maybe if you put in this drawing *insert drawing of a fish doing maths* in the book somewhere you'll find something about it to like. I do believe fish are actually mentioned in the book at some point, so bonus points if you find them.

I'm hoping you won't mind reading an English translation of the book. I just didn't know how good your Russian is. I do happen to trust this translation to be faithful to the most complete version of the book (I may have mentioned before that there are several versions out there which have been censored in varying degrees).

All kidding about the scarcity of fish and maths in the book, I think you just might like it. While the characters aren't as deep as the ones by Dostoievski (perhaps it's best to leave such characters to the writers who can do them justice), the book reminded me of the ending of Crime and Punishment as you described it. In addition to that, even in the translation there's plenty left of the original wordplay and there's a lot to be said of the satire in the book. 

By the time this reaches you, I will have quite a bit more to talk about. Whenever I'm not out settling in, shopping and doing paperwork, I will most likely be trying to find a nerd haven. For now, I'm planning to look for are Neil Gaiman's books and graphic novels... And copies of Stephen Hawking's books, and the other book by Roger Penrose... Well, that and the nearest theatres' programmes in case there are any plays or musicals worth going to. 

Nope, it won't do to start talking about myself. I'm supposed to talk about him. It's his birthday. Maybe I'll try again tomorrow morning.

The charming SweetGuy

Restless night last night. Nevertheless, there's at least one dream to remember. One where I was at sea with a group of people. A man on a boat was supposed to look after us, but he fucked up and we ended up against a row of rocks that could have crushed us to death as the tide rose. As everyone worried about possibly drowning, SweetGuy came in riding a white horse and rescued me. I remember hugging him and telling him I loved him for being so sweet. He understood. It was lovely. The others made it out all right. 

Live to eat

That's more like it. I almost titled this post "Food" and then thought it was just too sad.

The old man's not really talking to me. Just as well.

Mum's trying to convince me to save the money I got instead of baking everyone a thank you gift. We'll see about that. She's also trying to convince me not to get her a birthday present. She's getting one, and not just something she needs. I'll make sure she gets something she wants.

And now, my day yesterday. I was out at the cinema with my aunt, two cousins and three little cousins. We watched Brave.

For all the hype about it being the story of a feminist princess and an inspiration to little girls everywhere... I have to say she just came across as a rebellious teenager. I'm disappointed by the fact that her archery skills didn't amount to all that much in the film, and I'm disappointed by the fact that they felt a need to explain the witch's spell and how to break it. The story itself felt a bit odd... strained... forced, even. I won't say I didn't like it, but I must say I expected more out of it.

After the film we had crepes with my aunt and after that I went out with EBF and AOB. It was nice, in that we managed to talk and have great food and enjoy ourselves. It's funny that when I first met AOB (who was on time) and we talked about Before Sunrise and Before Sunset I pointed out how I liked the first better because the second provided an unnecessary ending to a story that didn't need it. The conversation stemmed from the fact that we recommended the films to AOB as being directed by Richard Linklater. When EBF arrived, AOB asked him the same things he asked me about it and the funny thing is, he said about the same thing as me. After all this time...

(...)

A told me she'd like to meet me this week, so we're meeting on Wednesday. Also, she said she actually had a very good time on Friday. Go figure... 


Unrelated,

Coconut rice recipe:
 - first coconut milk
 - 4 cups of coconut water
 - 3 heaped spoonfuls of sugar
 - a teaspoon of salt
 - 2 cups of rice

Heat the first coconut milk on a high heat until it's fairly dry and starts to caramelise. Add the sugar and allow to caramelise further, not letting it stick to the pan. Add coconut water, sugar and salt. When it boils, add the rice and allow to cook on a high heat until it's fairly dry. Cover with a lid and allow to cook on a low heat until done.

Saturday, 28 July 2012

I'm not sure which one's the frying pan

The old man asked for money until they pay his salary in a couple of days, knowing I got quite a bit as a gift for graduating. Pissed me off some, but I agreed to it saying nothing about how I know he's not actually going to pay me back, even offering more than he actually asked for. I took some of the money out today, against mum's wishes, to buy ingredients so I can bake lots of thank you scones and cookies. The old man asked if I'd brought the money with me. Some of the money was necessary to pay for gas, so when we stopped at a gas station I offered him about what it takes to fill the tank. He asked for more, saying there was room for a little more gas and I gave him another bill. When I checked the counter I noticed that there should be some money left, but he'd gone to buy a lotto ticket (or two) and didn't give me back any money. He took forever to buy it too, so we actually blocked the way of other cars that might have wanted to pump gas in the mean time. I was upset that he'd gone and wasted good money he didn't have and had to ask from me to do something no better than throwing it in the trash. I said it was silly to have bought the tickets and he said you never know if you'll win (I always know he won't). 

Just now, he asked me to give him money. He argued he needed it to buy the groceries I meant to buy. I refused and told him I'd go buy them with mum on Monday. He asked for money to pay the caddie tomorrow morning when he goes playing tennis with my sister. He then went ahead and asked for ten times as much as you'd usually pay the caddie. I gave him the money but pointed out that I don't like him wasting it on lotto tickets and he answered he doesn't have to ask for my permission to use the money on anything he pleases. He then asked my sister for the reasonable amount to pay the caddie and gave me back my money, saying he didn't need it. Fine, then so be it. Now, if he could only not go ahead and waste the money he gets when he gets paid then we'd really be up to something. It's not just the lotto tickets (though those are the ones I hate the most). It's the drinks he has on weekends, and the cigarettes he buys every day. They're all useless expenses and meanwhile we have to borrow money from my aunt MT to make sure we have eggs for breakfast. I'll be damned. And he dares complain that mum spends too much money in absolutely necessary expenses involved in getting his mother's drugs? *Nazgûl shriek*

It's all positively infuriating. There aren't a lot of other coherent sentences I can form right now. What's worse, I'm having a hard time trying to piece together a plan to get money sent here if whatever money I send has to go through him. If I save up until the very last end of the semester and offer to pay for part of my sister's tuition, then whatever money he would have destined to that will go to waste. If I send small chunks as I can along the way then he'll waste small chunks away as I do so. Until a very short while ago, we didn't even have health insurance. My mum's behind on her credit card and getting harassed for it. My aunts are already trying to chip in as they can offering whatever pretexts my mum will deem acceptable forms of "not charity." Making matters worse, I'm quite sure he's counting on my aunt A buying a fair amount of groceries next week when she comes to stay with us. Even if I make sure only mum has access to the money I send, even if I ask her to pay for the important things in what little time she may have it won't work. Either way they'll be struggling at the end of every month, making mum go through the most humiliating situations and my sister through unnecessary trouble.

EBF and AOB called today around 7 to ask if I'd like to go out with them for dinner and I didn't find out until 9:30 when we agreed we'd go out tomorrow. And I'm already feeling guilty about using my money to buy dinner tomorrow because I'm starting to consider buying a stash of non-perishables and hiding them in my closet so they can have little pick-me-ups for the next couple of months when they're short of doing something embarrassing to make it through the last days of the month. I happen to know that the bank my dad's got an account in has a service where they could actually lend him some money during the last days of the month which can be paid as soon as he gets paid. I can only imagine that money is long gone. What's worse, the system is all wrong because rather than encourage him to save, it's encouraging him to use money he doesn't have so he can go into the next salary a fair chunk short. It's all wrong

And now, I know the old man slaves away at the office and I'm not saying his hard work is worthless even though it's mostly inefficient. I do want to point out the fact that being the breadwinner does not entitle him to get us into trouble when he could get us out of it. I hate the fact that when he has money on his hands he doesn't think "Good, I could let this chip away of any one of a number of debts", or "Goodness, it was ______'s birthday a while ago and I got him/her nothing" but "Oh, boy, I could buy me *something unnecessary*!". 


You know, I wanted to start thinking of a letter to send SmTn with my aunt MT. I wanted to think happy thoughts. I wanted to tell SmTn about my coconut rice recipe and how decently it worked out for my first time cooking it. I wanted to say something about how maybe it can all work out between EBF and N2. I wanted to go into Let's pretend this never happened and relax a bit. I'm very much unable to do much more than write this post and try to keep my lower lip from quivering and the rest of me from breaking into sobs because sometimes a girl needs to be able to pretend she has a little dignity.

Too good to be true

So... 

I just got back from having a drink with AOB, EBF and A after the big family reunion (they ended up attending). While I could stop to talk about how I didn't really think they'd make it and how I was sort of avoiding A, I won't. 

I will back up a bit first to get what's bothering me the most out. This afternoon my aunts and I went to my newlywed cousin's new place for tea. As my aunt MT drove, a bus on our right suddenly made a left and my aunt braked just short of the bus touching the car. My aunt A, who was copiloting broke into a fit and called my aunt MT a moron, which ended in a small discussion about why she shouldn't be quite so anxious and break into hysterical fits where she yells like that for no good-enough reason. First chance we got, my aunt A said she'd rather I copilot and a small conversation ensued where I pointed out it was a bit out of line to call my aunt MT a moron and that, fine, I'd copilot. As soon as she thought we were out of earshot from the others, my aunt A took me apart to tell me she did so not call my aunt MT a moron, and how I must have heard it all wrong. She must have been calling the bus driver a moron, not my aunt. She was furious and very insistent on me not saying that she called my aunt MT such things. She kept saying she would never call my aunt MT or anyone else in the family a moron. Uh-huh. 

Now. I had good time to doubt myself but I'm quite sure of what I heard and I definitely have no incentives any which way. I already know that my aunt A is too quick to use very harsh words and I never know just how serious she is about her insults because she's so volatile. I wasn't particularly surprised or offended that she would call my aunt MT names. I was, however, a bit appalled by her behaviour. Whoever she chose to yell names at makes no difference. She should be able to take it easy and she didn't. I know she has a history of taking anti-depressants (or other medicated mood-altering drugs) and being hooked on them. I know she's quick to start fights and a bit too eager to be right about everything. I'm very non-confrontational and I rather thank mum for that. I don't know if my aunt A will hold a grudge against me but I did what I could to avoid her until the guys arrived and act like nothing had happened. I can't deal with it any other way. I don't know how. I can definitely see arguments like this turning into a big problem in my near future, though, because she can be quite overbearing and I refuse to bow down to her childish behaviour.

In other words, putting up with her will be a handful.

Back to the subject of going out with the guys... They worked out better than I could have hoped at my uncle's place. EBF did most of the talking but he and A seemed to get on quite well, especially when they discussed films. So far so good. As time wore on, he turned to cruder, ruder, jokes to make us all laugh and it was as if he were trying too hard and were spent. At some point he actually reversed to his high school self and it wasn't exactly a good thing... Now, A laughed whole-heartedly (or pretended to) but it was quite clear she wasn't having the best time ever around EBF. AOB was very tired and agreed to go out just to please us, saying nothing of cancelling when he yawned, quite visibly exhausted. As for me, all the self-consciousness went into overdrive. 

I worried that I wasn't thankful enough, eloquent enough, emotional enough. I worried that I smelled. I worried that I was gassy and sometimes couldn't help the odd fart slipping out as I walked. I worried that I'd made cheap crude jokes like EBF's trying to... well, frankly, I don't know what I was hoping for. When EBF said we still haven't gone out for lunch I sort of lashed out of him and I've been worried about that too.

He only just got back yesterday afternoon and still made it to the reunion, which is a lot more than I could have expected. AOB was dead tired and still showed up. To be too honest, I'd been entertaining myself with silly fantasies of how LesMisGuy could show up unexpected at the reunion. I wouldn't mention it if it weren't for the fact that when I realised no one had actually confirmed they'd show up before I left the house to go to my cousin's place, I sketched a fantasy of them being in on some kind of surprise for me and I dismissed it right away as too ridiculous. You know, after indulging in thoughts about how I could maybe see LesMisGuy and it would totally be because he wanted to see me. Them wanting to see me was an even more outlandish idea.

That gives you some context. When EBF suggested we go out for lunch and told me to call him, I insisted he tell me when he's free. It's as true now as it was the last time I insisted on the same thing: he's a busier man than I am. He has N2 to figure things out with. He has quite  a few other friends. He has a big family. And yet that's not it. I was mad at him. He told me we should meet last week for lunch and yet he was away all week (which he knew would happen because he was away for a wedding). I actually pointed this out and I know I was harsh when I did it because I tried especially hard to be nonchalant about it (and very likely failed). Now I'm actually wondering what a good time might be because my way of being sorry for being an ass is doing what he wanted me to do. Stupid as it is, I need his approval and demanding anything I shouldn't expect from him makes me needy (a big no-no). The worst part of this thinking is that demanding anything at all seems preposterous bec in spite of the fact that I should have a right to expect a lot from him, or should have had the right some time ago when it actually meant anything.

As for A... her mum actually thanked me for being such a good friend. Seriously?! Such a good friend? To A? And while I appreciate the lovely gesture of giving me a copy of Let's pretend this never happened, a fundamental truth I can't escape is the fact that A is fucked up beyond anything that I could want to deal with. I'll present the fact that she's still drawn to Dg as proof. Mark my words: she won't stay away from him, not even for her good, any time soon.

Oh, and, before I forget, if I may? EBF actually mentioned the whole meeting with N2 to see if they'll stay together plans very casually around AOB and A. Does he care so  little that he can tell people he doesn't trust as much anything, just because they can't understand it, Arc style?


Stub: Remember how, long ago, I had the feeling that I'd walked into someone else's fantasy, having thoughts that didn't feel like my own. The fantasy? AOB and I kissing. 

Thursday, 26 July 2012

Kauas pilvet karkaavat

Have I sat through an hour and a half long film I didn't like from the beginning simply because I couldn't stop watching? Guilty as charged.

The acting was horrible. The characters only half interesting. The story was... well, I suppose it was everything it was supposed to be. I can only say I suffered every minute of it, especially the bit where they gamble and lose their money. I'm not sure if it's a good thing then, that I was so happy when the whole thing sort of worked out in the end through hard work and the film was finally over.

On other news, tomorrow is the family reunion. That would be around 7pm. But my mum got us  tangled up having to look after a foreign girl who will come around 8:30am to cook lunch with us.  Pretty much as soon as that's over we will have to kick her out so we can go have tea at my newly wedded cousin's new place. I can only assume we'll be off to my uncle's after that. I'm not allowed to be as involved as I'd like in tomorrow's dinner. I helped with the potatoes, and the turkey breasts. I'll be instructing how the two bottles (an appallingly small number, given there are 30 guests) of mulled wine are to be cooked. Mum will be running around like crazy (like usual). I've taken the time to do her nails, make her take a few minutes off while I put a face mask on her and I'll make sure to do her make up tomorrow, hiding the spots and freckles as best I can. I've already made the fact that I'll be very busy tomorrow clear, right? May I point out, then, that EBF has not so much as asked for my uncle's address and AOB hasn't gotten back to me yet? Neither has A, but her parents must have already asked. She has Dg to deal with as she goes to the cinema tonight. 

Save the world with a monster

I had a dream last night where the world was under attack by a huge lapras-like monster (yes, the pokémon... you may prefer to think it looked like whatever Nessie is supposed to look like). To fight it, other monsters were being  raised. These, however, were only just babies. There was a dragon-like sea monster, which was supposed to be the most powerful out of the three, one that looked an awful lot like a sea-monkey and a third one I can't remember right now. Volunteers were in charge of taking care of them, including R1 who had done so before. R1 had been looking after the sea-monkey one, teaching it how to swim mermaid-style (apparently  the little guy had no one to teach him). It was rather endearing. I think he was also showing off and I had a déjà vu moment with the whole thing because I think he was trying to impress me (and there's a small chance that he might have succeeded). I remember wanting to look after R1, going to a big house where all of us volunteers were staying and I know I planned to cook something for him. It didn't work out because I didn't find him and I didn't find him because he was swimming with the little guy.

As for the fighting, there was a man (from the military?) who knew we had to use the little monsters to fight the big one and we were only buying ourselves time while we raised them to be big and powerful enough. He insisted we'd have to throw the next little monster in whenever we had to, which could have been while it was still a baby. I protested strongly against it. This discussion took place by the pool where they could rest, the three of them and a big white shark who was fed mint by the monsters' caretaker. Some time later, as I stood by the sea shore, other lapras-like monsters came to shore. These were cyan/aqua in colour and looked very gentle and kind. I asked if the bad monster had no family to be with, and whether or not he could be stopped by giving him a nice group of monsters like him to be around. Not sure what happened to that suggestion, because all I remember is people pointing out that these new monsters were indeed very gentle and kind compared to the bad one and no one even knew any more such monsters existed. A while later, mermaids showed up. They also had aqua/teal tails, coppery blond hair and vary pale complexions. They also had lots of pearls and other things in their hair. They swam past me, as I was in the water and one of them held my hand. Her hand felt very cold in comparison to mine so I was surprised when she said "Your hands are so cold!". That's all I  remember from this dream.

In another dream, a gypsy had taken it upon himself to raise some baby goats/sheep before they were eaten by some mountain wolfs. I went with others to look in on the baby goats in the field and we took one in for a while but then went to put it back when it kept calling for its mother (I suppose the baby goats could speak in my dream). I instructed one of the guys I was with where to leave it, behind a pub in the small town in the hills, which was to the right heading up the mountain, and not left of the road where he was. The little goat ran off leading him to an old building being presented like some sort of historical monument. The man running it kept the little goats hidden under racks of _______ (clothes? I don't remember) and had them come out every time the customers placed their bags on the floor in order to steal something from them. It seemed like a brilliant plan, being able to train them like that. I'm not sure if it's worth pointing out that the little goats were dressed like medieval war horses, with colourful tents.

In the last dream I remember, the characters from glee were staying in a big house and after a big fight between Rachel and Finn, Rachel went missing and was found to be with Blaine (suddenly straight) and about to have sex with him. Very bizarre dream. I remember thinking "Wait! He's gay! He's gay!".


You know I had to go to Wikipedia and find the appropriate dinosaur: I can't narrow it down to species, but I can tell you the family: Elasmosauridae. Anything big, navy coloured, with a long neck, four fins and a tail.

Monday, 23 July 2012

Volo

While waiting in line at the supermarket yesterday I was stuck behind two women taking care of two whiny little girls who insisted on buying candy. At one point one of the women said "Fine, you can have one, but you can't possibly want two of them." And you know, it's a rather reasonable thing to say, given children don't really want the things they say they do. They just happen to like something and it's the same as wanting it. The whole thing got me thinking (in case you hadn't figured that out already).

If you ask children what they want, chances are they'll tell you things they find enjoyable (or think they do). They want to be doctors, firemen, mothers, models. They want to eat pizza, cake and candy. They want to go to parties and amusement parks. They want to have cool toys. German children are scolded when they say they want things (wollen) as opposed to saying they would like something (mögen). Meanwhile in Spanish, the word for wanting (querer) can also mean "being affectionate toward."  The word comes from the Latin quaerere, meaning "to look for," rather than from volle, "to want." Incidentally, "to want" and "querer" also refer to the lust to be with someone, like wanting is something that comes instinctively to people.

In the woman's answer to the little girl was an underlying relationship between what we want and what we need, or what will make us happy. The little girl didn't need the candy, and if she were to want any at all, she most certainly should be satisfied with one piece. Parents the world over know that children seldom actually need what they say they want. If they don't yet, they'll find out soon enough when they put any effort into getting the child something "wanted" only to find it loses its charm far too quickly. It can be a milkshake that was only good for the first few sips, it can be a toy car that turns out not to be as good as the old ones, it can be a piece of cake that looked great but doesn't taste so good. A fundamental part of decent parenting is teaching children about this, that they may learn to know what things they should want (read:that will actually make them happy). This lesson should go hand in hand with a lesson in patience, because children should also be taught that sometimes getting what you want doesn't come easy and will take effort and time. Apparently, children who learn this last lesson grow up to be smarter adults, knowing to sacrifice immediate satisfaction for something better in the future.

It only makes sense. I remember a character from Tom Sawyer who wished for something very badly and had to pray and ask for it every night for a lot of nights (over a hundred, I believe). It sort of ensures that if you ask for something you make sure you want it even after a lot of time has gone by. If nothing else, it has to be something you're willing to work for. Most adults take quite some time to even realise that they won't be happy unless they work towards achieving what they want, and knowing what they want is actually half the battle. Often enough adults will revert to their childhood selves striving for the things they like. They'd like a big house, the latest technology, lots of friends, nice clothes, a partner. If having one of those isn't it, you keep trying with the others. When you have them all you decide that money either buys happiness or it doesn't. It certainly buys you the time to stop worrying about what you need and differentiate it from what you want. It buys you the time to figure things out and carry plans out. Inevitably, adulthood brings over the realisation that we need a lot of commodities we used to take for granted. 

Unless you had a particularly rough childhood, chances are you never had to worry about keeping a roof over your head or food on the table (I'm sorry if I sound "privileged" to imply this is some kind of norm). Even when money is scarce, decent parents will do everything they can to keep their children unaware of the pains they go through to make it day to day. When I was little (almost?) all my problems began and ended in school. I worried about having friends, being liked, getting homework done, being fancied by the boys I fancied. It wasn't until my dad was fired that I started to worry about money. I now worry about whether or not groceries will last all month, bills can be paid, our tuition can be afforded, or if I should get "nice" things. Mum will insist that my money is mine to spend, and while I took some to myself I couldn't not pay for things I knew were actually needed. 

When I was given money to open a bank account I couldn't open, I hesitated on how to spend it. Rather than buy two lovely dresses I loved, I bought just the one I loved the most and I'm now wondering how good an investment that was. I didn't go out very often growing up and I go out a lot less now, both because I've changed my friends and because even when the possibility opens up I worry that I could need the money for something else. When my dad offers to give me money to go out, or even to get by the week, I tell him I still have some left, not to give me so much, to use it in more important things. While I don't directly worry about paying the bills, I try to make sure I don't use up so much of the money that I get in the way of us being able to pay them. I don't worry that it gets in the way of the social life I don't have, and I daresay both my sister and I have made sure we don't spend much whenever we do go out. I don't have to impress anyone with the things I order or don't order. My friends know I don't drink alcoholic beverages and don't party. 

Ever so slowly, I've grown more used to being myself and recognising the traits in others that should actually be good for me. While I still worry about being liked and having people's approval, I now limit myself to worrying about the approval of fewer people. I'm not quite so embarrassed to be quirky and I don't try so hard to fit in as to find people I fit in with. I don't worry about doing things I don't want to do just because others are doing it. Being different is not so much to be ashamed as to be proud of. I stand up for the things I believe in and don't mind if I stand out for it. While I still hope to be accepted, I no longer want to be liked by everyone. Though I want to have the company of certain people, I'm teaching myself to be more self-sufficient. A love life... the idea makes me sigh yearning, but the realistic/pessimistic me realises it's optional (if at all possible).

All I look forward to in the next few years is financial independence. I don't exactly get to make a lot of the choices on how I get there, but I'm willing to put myself through it. I keep telling myself I'll start deciding then, when it's all paid and accounted for. When I don't have to worry about the essentials any more. I realise that day may not come, and I know I'm just stalling so I don't have to figure out how unhappy I'll be walking that road or deciding which other road to choose. A certain sense of duty calls me. I got it easy for so long, I have to somehow make up for it. My sister got a taste of the worries too soon. Mum has been living below her expectations and above her capacities for too long. I need to figure out a way to help.

It's odd then, when every so often I come by something nice, like a flowery dress, and all I can say is volo!. It's a rather guilty pleasure, fantasising of a happy time when I might wear it which I know won't come for some time (if at all). It's exactly like dressing up, doing my make-up or pampering myself with a whole body scrub followed by body lotion. I indulge in the fantasy that I will have some place to be pretty and be admired, I secretly hope opportunity will find me looking good and will reward me with a love life. These wishes are all related to things I would like, to (who am I kidding) the man I want to be with. Do you suppose daddy God (or mummy Fate) would let me have any of it? Do you suppose they would say: "Fine, go and have _____. See if it's all you hoped for. You're not getting any more than that."?

A vague sense of merit takes over telling me, much like children are told, that if I'm good then I deserve to have good things coming my way. And good things should come in the form of what I want. Children aren't told they'll be awarded with a college education if they behave on command, they're offered things they want, treats. I suppose in the greater scheme of things I hope that if I do well then I will be rewarded, even though I can logically see absolutely no connection between the two. If I work hard and attain financial independence and the ability to pay for all the things I'd like, it will have nothing to do with whether or not I get anything I want for myself. This is exactly the kind of cock and bull story Christians are sold: be good to others and God will be good to you. 

Lucky for me, being good "comes easy," as I've never had a rebellious phase. I suppose the rebellious phase is what happens when you start wanting something other than what your parents/guardians tell you to look for. I don't think I've been told to look for anything other than financial stability (and true love), and I've never thought of looking for anything else. I don't have a dream of becoming a talented anything. I don't hold any real hopes of becoming a famous anything. I am not looking forward to being a housewife with children. I don't even think I'll be able to have a career (as opposed to a job).  If given the chance to pursue something else, I don't think I would: it wouldn't sound sensible.

So, essentially, when asked the fundamental question "what do you want?" I don't know that I want anything (wollen), there are only things I would like (mögen). There are things and people I'm emotionally committed to (querer), things I strive for (quaerere). Some of these are essentials I couldn't easily live without. The others I grew up believing I should have. 

You know, even characters in children's films who wish upon stars have something they want, so badly

Sunday, 22 July 2012

D-I-S-A-S-T-E-R

It was the twins' birthday yesterday. We invited them over for dinner but only one of them could come and it turned into lunch at around 10am yesterday. We somehow managed to pull it off, though. It went all right. After resting for a bit when my cousin left, my aunt A came over with my spoiled cousin. My cousin left to a party and my aunt MT arrived. We played cards until 10pm. Another family-ridden day. It doesn't end there, though.

Though I won't get my diploma until the 31st, my aunt MT is leaving on the 1st, and we're supposed to celebrate before then. That means we're supposed to celebrate next weekend, apparently. Mum told me my uncle and aunt offered to host the reunion. She doesn't like the idea, and neither do I. For one, we're still too broke to host the reunion, but that means agreeing to let them host it turns the whole thing into charity. My mum's dignity can't take it, and neither can mine. Oh, and have I mentioned that we couldn't get the twins presents? When I asked what we should get them my dad said "Oh, we can't afford it, it will have to wait until next month. We're not leaving them without presents, we're just putting it off." I knew it even as he said it: he didn't mean to keep his word. He won't buy them presents. We didn't get them presents last year and the year before that I remember having to insist quite a bit. Daughter of Scrooge indeed...

Back to the subject of the much dreaded family reunion, though, hosting the whole thing at my uncle's place has one added inconvenience: A, AOB, CtThumbe and EBF are supposed to go too. The "foreign" setting is just adding to an already uncomfortable situation with... well, all of them except CtThumbe. Possibly including her, depending on how EBF's troubles work out. And I wouldn't know about that because I checked and he hasn't been online (that my messenger knows) in 4-5 days. Busy much, I suppose.

That reunion spells disaster. The only thing that could make it worse is speeches, and I'm not too sure they can be avoided. 

Well, a far greater number of things spell disaster if I'm dreading a family reunion, want nothing to do with my friends (To think I actually hesitated to add quotation marks...) and am otherwise terrified about everything else going on in my life.




[11:39am edit]
The family reunion planning is under way. A menu has already been chosen for me. Though mum and I had considered some mulled wine, scones and meringue/pastry cream desserts they're going for turkey breasts, oven-baked potatoes and a salad. Ah... and that leaves the business of inviting everyone over, without CtThumbe being able to make it (she arrives on that day, I think it's highly unlikely).

Saturday, 21 July 2012

Quotables

For whatever reason, an old text of R1's shows up on my facebook newsfeed. I went over it and noticed a few things...

 - I understood (I think) more than you could have expected me to, considering I'm not that close to R1 and couldn't be sure to follow the metaphors. This points to either sloppily too understandable writing on his part, or brilliantly executed balance of understandability. I'm leaning towards the latter.

 - I grimaced at the grammatical errors. Sorry, couldn't be helped.

 - I laughed so hard at his mum's "WTF?" And R1's reply? The whole thing was just priceless.

 - I had to go over the sentence a couple of times and google it just to be sure. It sounds like I've heard it before and I thought it was probably famous already, but it wasn't. The credit goes to R1:

"Not following? No worries, I'm not leading either."

Not bad, eh?



You know, I have the hunch that EBF might log on (very possibly drunk) and will want to talk and I went online and stayed online (instead of going to sleep like I was about to), just in case my hunch is right? Other than bake my cousins a cake, I don't have much to do tomorrow. I can afford to stay up late/early. Unless AOB wants to have lunch (no can do dinner) tomorrow... but something tells me he won't.

Friday, 20 July 2012

I'm calling it now

There was a family reunion today. My aunts came over for breakfast and that means I was around family from 10am to 8pm. Too long for me. I would have gone out for dinner with AOB but he had a family reunion of his own and cancelled. Makes me wonder who else is coming with us. 

I should have called EBF. He hasn't been online. I told him I'd let him know when I was free to have dinner and technically I've been free for at least 3-4 meals (lunch/dinner) this week. My excuse to myself is that he hasn't been online, which must mean he's been busy. Either busy moving or otherwise entertained (say, with N2). Busy is as busy does. Now I'm being silly, but I keep telling myself that I didn't have to get back to him, even if I told him I would. I'm pretending being broke, or being busy, or thinking I know he's busy is a valid excuse not to see him. The truth is that I even considered inviting him over the day I baked AOB the cake so we could sit down and have dessert here but decided against it. In the end, the real reason is I don't want to see him. Well, I don't completely want to, anyway. I'm afraid to meet him. I'm afraid to go out and be stuck having to gulp down food to make everything be over as quickly as possible because I can guess we won't have an awful lot of talking to do. There's a very good chance that we won't meet until the farewell reunion. If he makes it.


It seems I'll have to put together a family and friends reunion (of course, because it's cheaper). Boy... that will really be quite a mess.

Back on the subject of family reunions, though, I'll take the time to frown upon sexist homophobic jokes now because no one needs to prove anything by telling them or laughing at them and I refuse to accept them in any context. I'm quite sure LC1 is a lesbian (though I don't suppose she's fully aware yet) and all hell will break loose (especially on her father's side) when she comes out. The poor dear... 


[July 23rd edit]
You know what? Never mind being guilty about not having called EBF. He's not even in town. If I had to guess, I'd say he hasn't been in town all week. 

Thursday, 19 July 2012

You're welcome

Non-sarcastic title. I managed to bake AOB a cookies 'n cream inspired cake for his birthday. A layer of chocolate and oreo, covered with chocolate ganache, followed by a layer of vanilla cake, whipped cream with chocolate covered bits of oreo in it, more vanilla cake, more ganache, more chocolate and oreo cake, covered in ganache and sprinkled with oreo bits and dark chocolate. If I do say so myself, it was actually quite good. I dropped it off as intended around noon today. AOB left me a thank you message asking how I knew it was his 12x2th birthday (I congratulated him for another 12th birthday) and you know what? His little brother left me a message too. Made me smile. More. 

I'm in a bit of a tight spot because I don't know what to say to either of them, but I'll be satisfied for now knowing that people like them exist.

Blue hair and piercings

I remember three bits of dreams from last night.

In one dream, a loan shark was asking for all of his debts to be paid back as soon as possible so he could pay back a debt of his own. This took place someplace in a corner of a building that was surrounded by water, when it was starting to get dark. He menaced [me] with a minotaur, and I teased the minotaur (I could see the horns, actually knives, peeking out of the entrance) because it somehow wasn't real and didn't scare me.

In another dream I was walking around university with a purpose now unknown to me. I know I noticed a few people I knew, including ExamGuy. I greeted ExamGuy so cheerlessly... but I'm not quite sure why I was so fazed out in my dream. Shortly after seeing ExamGuy I kept on walking and noticed a familiar back walking in front of me. At first, I wondered  if it was really him, but even as I did he turned a corner and I had time to stare and be certain. It's odd, though, because he now had quite a few piercings and looked unnaturally sad (I don't think I've ever seen him sad or even a little upset). It reminds me of a dream I had once where D had blue hair.

The dream I actually woke up to, was one where A and I were with a puppy that kept making  a mess. As soon as A "cleaned up" (much like she "cleans" her dogs' mess) it made a new one.

Tuesday, 17 July 2012

The death of a silly old firefly

I've spent my day doing nothing useful, again. Today's day started playing Final Fantasy XII until just after lunch and then wasting time trying to figure out an entertaining way to waste time. I tried watching television, but nothing good was on. There's this new show, Two Broke Girls and A has recommended it often (not that her recommendations are ever much good, as we have such dissimilar tastes) so I tried watching. But the writing that tries to be smart and yet has to explain the jokes is sloppy, the humour which is meant to be frank comes out as vulgar and it made me uncomfortable. Making matters worse was a bit of a storyline with one of the girls going out with the guy she had a crush on. They were about to kiss and didn't and everyone expected it to work out. She had leaned in for a kiss. Next thing I knew she threw herself at him to kiss him and the idea that he already had a girlfriend (the woman walking with him when this happened) was heavily hinted at. I didn't watch any more. I couldn't watch any more without... well, I'm already blowing it out of proportion. I suppose I might have made it worse somehow.

After online windowshopping for make-up, I decided I was in the mood for a children's movie. Seeing how Brave is about to come out, I tried a Disney film by the name of The Princess and the Frog. I must say, I'm disappointed. There were several references straight out of previous films, most notably The Sword in the Stone (Lou using vines to look like Madam Mim when describing the witch) and The Jungle Book (didn't Lou resemble Baloo a lot?) , as well as a bonus feature of The Little Mermaid in the parade. I wouldn't call the film racist, but the heavy stereotyping of just every single character does wear me out quite a bit. The bit that ruins the plot is the way the horrible prince (frankly, a womanising, good-for-nothing, shallow prince can't be a good prince, even if it's the only real kind there is). 

Tiana is a hard-working girl. She does not deserve such a husband even if he promises to clean up his act, because in real life it never would work out that way. Moreover, I'm afraid it's a very real problem in the african american community that women grow to be strong, independent adults having to put up with not so good husbands just because they prefer chocolate babies. Well, the argument was a bit less simplified than that, but I hope I'm not sounding too stupid when I say it: no one said Tiana's prince had to be black, and making him lazy and spoiled was unnecessary. What are the little girls to think? Should they marry the men who, having been known for their sleaziness, promise to change? Should they only marry black men? Should they marry the first man who waltzes into their lives? I might have understood with old-timey princess stories but Belle actually chose her husband ruling out people like Gaston. How come Tiana, who has never been out partying, will just jump into marrying Naveen like nothing? There are so many things wrong with this... 

The one thing I'll bring out, out of the whole film, is the death of the silly old firefly and the way he turned into a star in the end. I actually cried a little during his funeral, and I do believe I'd never seen the death of a character in a children's film before.

I'm so sorry for bringing politics into a Disney film for children, I really am. But I do believe the more recent films shouldn't be able to get away with such backwards thinking.

Monday, 16 July 2012

Come to think of it, I haven't truly slept in years

Among other dreams, last night I had a dream about my little one where we cuddled on the bed.  I hadn't felt so comfortable or at peace in years. There was something about the way she knew how to use my arm as a pillow and lie against me that made it all so nice, you know? Even in my dream I stopped to think to myself "let's stay like this for as long as can be, it's just so nice..."

The other dreams included a lot of spot on guesswork about stuff happening to A that came true over the course of a single dream and trying to tell her about it and warn her about something, a dream about running a race for school1 (or rather for a teacher in school1 I can't even remember), a dream about a restaurant where divas competed to sing and a young man got a not so perfect drag job, and a dream about a guy trying to celebrate his brother getting married. In the running dream I lost a molar, at some point I just felt it loose in my mouth. Weird.... That's all I remember now anyway. Not that I really care about these last dreams. 

Sunday, 15 July 2012

Talkative mood

Aunt A arrived today. It should make me feel like I'm ever closer to leaving (three weeks or so) but the idea still feels very foreign to me. Nothing much to be said about my day today. Nothing much to be said about anything. I'm tired, and cold, and... pretty much nothing else. Even so, for whatever reason, I'm feeling talkative. I want to talk to someone even though there's nothing in particular for me to want to talk about. I was hoping I might find EBF online but had no luck. Not that I would have dared say anything, I'm quite sure I would have hesitated myself out of the idea without having anything to say. And yet he always seems to find a way around that with a simple "wazup?". Nevertheless... I was feeling like talking and the closest I'll get to that is writing in the blog, even if just to write about wanting to talk and having to write instead.

It is all rather pointless and pretty much useless, I'm afraid. I tried looking up a film to watch but I wanted to watch a children's movie and it wouldn't play properly so I gave up. I switched to make-up videos, but I couldn't keep my eyes on the video tab, switching to a castle wars game I didn't really want to play either. I did manage to make very decent roasted peas with home made garlic salt, for what it's worth. And I've made up my mind about baking AOB a cake. But that's about it. I said it before: there's nothing much going on in my life today.






You see? This is where an actual conversation might have a chance at starting anyway, if I have nothing to say the other person just might think of something. I could write SmTn an e-mail but I just don't have words to put into it. I'm in a talkative mood and talking to myself won't make any sense if I have nothing to say. 

Fruit mousse

Might as well keep the good recipes in the blog, right?

Fruit mousse:

 - 200ml of fruit juice/pulp
 - 100ml of yogurt
 - 7g of gelatin
 - 200ml of cream
 - 3-4 egg whites 
 - 170g of sugar

Mix  the yogurt with the fruit and add the gelatin. Beat the cream (only a little) and add to the previous mixture. Make a meringue with the egg whites and sugar, adding the sugar in 3 parts, then add to the fruit mix. Serve on a bowl and leave in the fridge for two hours or so.

Marsellaise

The beginning of this post goes back to a few hours ago, when I decided to watch Casablanca not having a clue what it was about. It turned out to be a bit less of a let down than I thought it would be after the first 20min. I'm not too sure how it became a classic, if not for the theme, the iconic beautiful actress and Humphrey Bogart's voice. The story seems either too elaborate or too simple, the plain characters aren't as plain as you'd expect. My award goes to the actor playing the piano man because I loved his performances and the way he smiled like Louis Armstrong(?).

The thing is... Well, I spoiled it with the title, didn't I? At some point during the film, they sing the Marsellaise. And it's an emotional moment but it didn't really get to me then and there. As soon as the film was over I rushed to look at the lyrics and find a decent song (I'm partial to the one by Mireille Mathieu). After listening to it once or twice I'm now a tiny bit upset. My heart is racing and my hands are shaking a little (which I can tell because I'm attempting to finish knitting a scarf for my aunt A). All day yesterday I fought an overwhelming LesMisGuy craze, being tempted to call out his name every so often and being bombarded by thoughts of him when I least expected it. I even kept myself from writing anything about it because I thought I was keeping a decent record keeping him out of the blog. But right now I can't shake the feeling and I haven't been able to for at least 15min now. 

What is my problem?

I know he's one of my problems, and that another problem is my unwillingness to move on and cut my losses. I'm afraid that's not quite it, though. I'm taking this silly hunch over a racing heart a bit too seriously, I'm superstitiously hoping it means something. I spend too much time (read: any at all) wondering what it would be like if LesMisGuy and I had been a couple until now. 

Silly, silly heart of mine: we're too susceptible today. We're too easily upset. Just today during lunch my sister put on an Enya CD and I had to hold back tears because it's one of those things I just don't do since my little one died. The Enya music is what I played for her while she recovered from surgery. As I cleaned out my closet I ran into the black shirt I was wearing the day she died and I couldn't bring myself to give it away or even hide it and I'm now considering taking it with me. Even though it's black and has long sleeves. Just because. 

Oh dear... I miss her like crazy. 

Saturday, 14 July 2012

Excuse: soundtrack

As I promised my mum, I'm cleaning up and organising my room. So far, I've managed to finish half of my room, the half comprising the closet and night table. Next time I'm taking care of the library and desk. Two things happened: I chucked out the bracelet I got from D long ago, not minding if it ends up in a landfill any more, and I discovered that doing chores to Michael Jackson music makes them a lot more bearable.






On the subject of mementos... I'm keeping the "[insert special occasion]" note, as well as the green piece of paper holding old new year's resolutions in the programme of the Philip Glass concert, snuck in the book I got from SmTn. I tossed the last(?) I got from A for my birthday. I hesitated for a bit but then realised her "gift" to me was a coupon for all the cocktails I wanted. 

Oh shit. Don't tell me. It's bad

Can't sleep. I've been watching Sailor Moon again. I'd tell you all about how I'm rooting for the gay couple, but EBF logged on, drunk and tells me he got drunk by himself. Which begs the question of why he didn't get even N2 to be with him on a Friday night, to which he answered they got into a big fight. I asked if he wanted to talk about it and even as I hit enter my heart sank and I just got the most horribly ominous feeling that it's bad. I daresay he might be pretty fucked up about it. Oh dear... I'm even taking a bit longer than usual to open the window with his answer.

...


What do you know. It fucking is that bad. Fuck. I feel for him. I really do. I'm a bit too aware of the fact that I can't be any good to him and it's killing me.




At the end of his rant, you know what he said? He apologised. He said he was sorry he put me through his drunk rant. I wanted to say "I'm sorry we're not close enough that you had to get drunk on your own and apologise for telling me anything."




Just before logging off, he said he misses our nights out having dinner and just talking. I almost stopped him before he left saying "just one last thing." I hesitated. I almost apologised for us not being that close any more. I checked myself for melodrama and he logged off before I could make up my mind about it.








*sigh*


Just as well.

Friday, 13 July 2012

Dream of a barbecue

I should have probably written this down earlier... Oh well. Last night I had a dream where we were hosting a barbecue. There were several dishes to be served, including a meat dish that had to be cooked in the oven. For some reason, we couldn't eat it right away and so it waited and waited in the oven (still turned on) until it was time to eat. By the time it was, the food had gone from black-burned to white and then on fire. Worth mentioning is the fact that my little one was in the dream. In my dream she was sick but didn't look it and I had time to wonder over this fact and hope she'd stay well for a long time yet.

Thursday, 12 July 2012

Physical philosophy and random stray thoughts

Per SmTn's (very wise and much appreciated) suggestion, I switched over from Sailor Moon to physics documentaries, because I might as well learn something while I'm at it, right? He even suggested the Brian Greene ones as a sort of introduction. It is now a rare occurrence when I get fleeting entertaining (because I'm quite sure they're far from brilliant) ideas, and just such a thing happened as I watched these documentaries. For that I'm very thankful to SmTn, who may not even begin to understand how much I appreciate it when I run into nice ideas to think on.

I'm afraid the first one struck without me paying too much attention, it's the sort of "bright" idea which I can never quite confirm because I think it's so good I can't forget it and then I do. All I had to go by after that was a faint memory of about where in the video I thought of it, and I made a small note on a piece of paper as I watched the segment again hoping to remember:

"big rip - white holes"

I seriously doubt there's much to be made out of that, and I don't suppose I even managed to remember whatever it is I had in mind. Nevertheless, the big rip should refer to space being ripped apart by dark energy, and I suppose I was wondering if ripping space apart wouldn't somehow create a white hole. Such an event, I elaborated, should take place in minuscule environments (to the outside observer). Something or other to do with the way space-time has to adjust to keep the speed of light constant. I assume ripping space would somehow lead to near-c speeds, though I can't completely justify it to myself except.

On another note, I wrote:

"black hole - matter --> space"

I inferred (though, again, I might be very wrong) that there is no dark energy in black holes. Come to think of it, I'm starting to realise it must be quite silly to think matter could somehow be turned into space inside a black hole, but I suspect the reasoning behind it had to do with how matter never actually leaves the black hole. Could space somehow be a skeleton for matter, having shed all information to the horizon of the black hole? More on this if I remember to check back on myself and I ever learn proper physics.

The last note, which no longer makes much sense, reads:

"hologram - paparazzi - snowball"

It had something to do with the information stored by a black hole of the objects that went into it, and the paparazzi allusion refers to how the Higg's boson gives existence to matter, creating a snowball effect. My rationalisation right now is that you could perhaps re-create these objects through the information about them if you could somehow get the Higg's bosons to give them proper "existence."

Enough on that, though. I'm already starting to feel foolish not knowing what I'm talking about.

There was, however, a subject I was more familiar with: that of time. For a short while, it seemed like my final high school project wasn't nearly as idiotic as I came to believe it was. For a while, the general ideas made a lot of sense and were only lacking in rigour.  The notes I made on this section brought on a few philosophical issues about the nature of time itself.

In the first place, I took note of some of the phrases used by the interviewees:

"Measure change through repetition"
"Recognise repetition of 'identical' events"
"Replace a measurement by a more accurate one - Caesium"
"Individual times"
"Time is inversely proportional to space"

Following a history of time, then, it all begins with clocks and the realisation that what clocks measure is how long it takes to get from one event to a very similar one (like, say, the sun setting). Units of time were initially just divisions of how long it takes the Earth to spin once on its axis. For starters, it seems both very strange and incredibly straight-forward to measure change through repetition. The only reason we can observe change is because the initial state is gone, and yet we count on it occurring again to decide how far apart the observations are. At the same time, we're both counting on change taking place and destroying a certain arrangement while at the same time expecting it to leave everything where it was, that we may start counting again. We rely on the cyclic nature of time, while at the same time have to admit that time never goes back on itself, because it actually moves like an arrow in a given direction without ever turning back.

Now, the initial measurement was somehow not accurate enough, so a second is no longer one sixtieth of a minute, which is one sixtieth of an hour, which is one out of twentyfour in a day. Now, a second is a very specific number of vibrations of a Caesium nucleus after being shot with energy. I'm starting to wonder just how much more accurate this last measurement  is, or how on Earth you'd compare it to others. I'd argue that, in a way, each second is unique and needs not be anything like the others that have happened before. It would, however, raise a very important question: is time absolute? Is there an absolute measurement that is completely universal? Many people settled for the atomic clock but I fail to see how this measurement is any more valid than other alternatives.

I wonder if it's not possible that space twists and deforms itself where we can't see, altering the measurements ever so slightly. As Brian Greene described, any given object divides its vector of movement through space-time as the sum of two vectors: one through space and another through time. As such, any unobserved twists and turns in space could alter whatever is used to measure the vibrations of the Caesium atom, altering the time component of its movement to being detected. 

The individual times I'll just leave alone for now. I will, however, point out that they vaguely remind me of papers by Heidegger I no longer remember. Something about a Zeitgeist and how your own individual time is actually influenced by everything and everyone around you.

This is a very bad way to end the train of thought, but it's all I had to go on. If I were writing an essay I would have bothered to  make a little more sense and to put ideas forward in an organised way, but for the time being I just wanted to get the ideas written down somewhere.

To close this post, I also felt a need to mention that I want to talk to EBF. Badly enough that I've found myself thinking of conversation starters, links, videos, and odd ideas I could mention as an excuse to try and talk to him. Which is bad enough on its own, as I realise that if I need an excuse to talk to him and moreover I have to think it over so much then whatever conversation I attempt to start on that is doomed to die right away because that's just the way conversations go. I'm a little surprised to want to talk to him. It's been a while since I last had an urge like this, and it's not like I have anything to tell, nor anything to ask, or anything to share. I just wanted to talk and feel a bit miserable realising that there's absolutely nothing to be said. 

Running around half-naked

I had a couple of dreams last night I'd like to keep track of.

1) There was a dream where I was with AOB in campus and we'd agreed to go out after that. We were planning to take the bus here and then I'd be driving him elsewhere (heh, me driving...). As we got to the bus station, we noticed my parents and I got stuck fumbling with the change after buying the tickets, so I couldn't meet them all immediately. By the time I managed to meet them, my parents and AOB had been waiting at the line for the wrong bus, which I pointed out, and made AOB get on it. Essentially, they were getting rid of him. At first it was explained that my dad had said something incredibly stupid and embarrassing that made AOB, like the decent chap he is, decide to go to his place and forget about meeting me. It was all rather strange, especially since it seemed to me that none of it could be helped.

2) There was another dream about AOB, one where I felt a very strong one-sided (his) sexual attraction.

3) In another dream, we'd been invited to watch my spoiled cousin at a tennis match. On the way there I noticed lots of wild animals, including a meerkat carrying around an old unplugged vacuum cleaner as if it were cleaning the dusty patch of land it lived in and an ostrich that actually looked a lot like a hyena lying down. We were supposed to go past the swimming pools at the country club to reach the tennis courts, but we couldn't seem to find them. I remember I had three shoes at all times, two of them on my feet and a third to carry around for no good reason. We decided to take a dip in the pools while we figured out what to do next and so I ended up in nothing but my bikini. I kept looking for the tennis courts, and eventually ended up at a huge pool (albeit not a very well-kept one, for an expensive country club) that was closed off with a metal fence. I swam around and ran back, trying to find a way around the pools, but couldn't find one. At one point, I felt observed and uncomfortable at having the other people staring at me.

4) There was a dream with J2 and his girlfriend from school2. All I remember from this one is her changing clothes and him staring at her cleavage and suggesting what looked good on her.

5) The other dream was centred around the characters from The Mentalist. Jane had been framed for one of Red John's murders as he found a baby in a crib and was made to leave by police officers, who offered to let him go to the bathroom first. As he left the bathroom, which inexplicably had a wooden radio that could play tapes, Red John opened the door to speak with him. He asked  if the tape in the radio was a certain recording Red John had made and she (yes, she) said it wasn't. She elaborated saying it's not like the tape provided anyone with useful information on how to find her, as no one would ever believe Jane's story that Red John was in fact a pale, dark-haired young lady. The last part of this dream had the team waiting for Jane at a marathon, with Lisbon trying to figure out who should take Jane's place running.

Wednesday, 11 July 2012

Mea culpa, me too

Give or take two hours ago, EBF logged on. Give or take whatever amount of time, he said hi and we've been attempting to keep a conversation since. If you can call a back and forth exchange of links to film trailers a conversation, that is. And then upon making a point, he said something which I half expected should be contradicting me, except it obviously was just elaborating on what I said. Which doesn't explain why I asked "that's just elaborating on what I said, isn't it?". Whatever made us click and understand one another so well? It's gone. And it's not just him not getting it when I kid, now it's me expecting him to somehow counter my points when he doesn't.

On other news, since lunch today I'm loving Billie Holiday. Pretty much everything. I'm loving the blues.




[day after edit]
Around 2am I was sleepy and we weren't really talking so I just said "I'm off to sleep, goodbye" and logged off without even waiting for him to say goodbye back. Kind of rude and unusual in me, but by now, I'm not sure just how much I care anymore, or why I even bother keeping track of any of this.