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Sunday, 31 March 2013

One of those nights (when it sucks to have a uterus)

Only girls would understand, and only a few of those at that. I haven't been able to sleep. I'm in bed, under the covers and it's not that cold out but I'm cold. Actually I'm not all cold, I'm only cold from the waist down and it doesn't matter how hard I try to curl up into a ball, breathe inside the covers and somehow distribute my body heat: my feet are freezing and no warmth is enough for my aching uterus. It's swollen, screaming bloody murder (quite literally) and it's bad enough that I had to pee, poop and vomit just to make room for it. The pills aunt A gave me are supposed to be good for 8 hours at a time, which means I can only take the next one sometime when I wake up. I wish I could just take acetaminophen like I used to. I wish I had a warm blanket to wrap around myself when I hurt like I used to. I wish I could make myself some hot beverage (or have someone who could make it for me). I don't. I hurt and it occurred to me that maybe the heat of the laptop's battery would do in the stead of the electric blanket I don't have. I can't say it's working yet. 

Adding insult to injury is the fact that not one or two but three times I have completely failed to buy sanitary pads. Not because I forgot, no. I just got the wrong thing, three fucking times. How? They all bloody look alike. First time I got panty liners. It was a big bag and it looked like it might contain pads. Not so. Second time I got sanitary wipes. Scented ones. Who even uses those? Do you ever need them? Ever? Why would you put perfume near your sensible bits? WHY? Third time I figured I'd try and make up for buying the damned wipes by buying actual pads. I double checked the packaging to see that it looked big enough to contain pads and I even found a picture of what the product looked like on some panties. I got it wrong again. Fucking panty liners again. Unbelievable. After 10 years (at least) of buying sanitary products every. bloody. month. I fuck it up. Damned be the deceitful advertising and packaging. 

Saturday, 30 March 2013

Sorry, SmTn

No tango for me tonight. And it will be for a lack of trying. I didn't ask to go, I didn't ask for advice on how to get there, I didn't ask for rides (not to family, acquaintances or strangers). I thought I'd ask yesterday night and that my chance to ask was when I was alone with BCM but when I was we spoke of my job prospects and then we went to the cinema with aunt A and I didn't get to ask. Today I just didn't feel like asking. I don't feel like doing anything today. For a while there this afternoon I thought I'd go and use the dark red lipstick if only for a few moments before wiping it off, just because I somehow felt I "owed" it to SmTn, and I didn't feel like it. I saw K online but thought about it twice and didn't talk to him. I unenthusiastically spoke with my parents and A a while ago. Well, I mostly heard them talk. I haven't told them about my Friday meeting with a professor regarding job opportunities. If what he told me is true (his numbers, BCM pointed out, don't make a lot of sense) then I would be in a very decent economical position come the end of the next semester. It would not be so crazy to think of buying masses of Christmas presents and paying a chunk of my student loan debt after I buy a car. Regardless, telling people here about it put me off. It rubbed in the expectations for me to make money. 

Aunt A told me I need to practise so I can get my own car and started talking about how the others sorted themselves out. Pfffft. I need my own car, period. Uncle A gave me the book of what he's decided I have to learn yesterday and asked if I'd read it yet today at noon. No, I haven't. I'm not very excited about it either, you know. He got very pushy about what he believes I have to do, and how I have to get a PhD in what he wants me to. I think it's very unfair. I understand he wants me to get a good paying job and I heard him speak of how he doesn't like it when people try to be independent and don't take his help. It's not that his help is not welcome but independence is important (and not stupid, like he seems to believe). I am ever less excited by the thought of working on engineering and look forward to going back to a career in maths. I want a career, not a job. I will be very miserable indeed doing boring things only because they pay me for it. No one could pay me enough to be bored for a living. I'm too late finding out letting uncle A choose what I'd get my next degree in wasn't a stellar decision and if all goes "well" I'm still in it for another two years. I can't give up the next four for something I don't care for. I plain don't take well to being told what to do.


Tried talking to K because I was bored. Even though he'd been online on facebook for a while, he answered he was busy canoeing. It's now around midnight and during my failed attempts at watching The Sound of Music from the comfort of my bed aunt A came in asking for a particular nail polish, giving me a description that doesn't match any nail polish we have (metallic/shimmery orange = "goes well with brown"). It is apparently the only nail polish in the house (and there are quite a few) that goes well with brown in her opinion. If it's the one I think it is, no it doesn't and she would have had uncle A complaining about what an ugly colour it was. The fact is that cousin S's girlfriend is also into nail polishes and she came by a couple of weeks ago (or perhaps only just last weekend?) and borrowed a few. It's not like aunt A wouldn't have let her borrow some. It's not like we have so few that lending some to her would leave us too few to pick from. There are a good 15 or so non-scandalous shades left. None of which, claims aunt A, go well with brown and I must have imagined exactly what she wanted to wear this weekend down to the nail polish colour so I could lend that exact one to cousin S's girlfriend to aggravate her. It's the most reasonable explanation in aunt A's head though she doesn't say it out loud. Next thing you know she'll be telling me not to lend any nail polishes to cousin S's girlfriend. Just you wait.


All the more reason to never want to leave my room. I ate nothing except a bowl of cereal, lunch (two servings of salad and a small pizza) and some chocolate today. I'm not even hungry. I waited as long as I could before wandering out to get some water. I want to be alone and have time to do nothing and think nothing and read nothing. 


Friday afternoon I had "(All in the)Golden Afternoon" stuck in my head. Still do, sort of.



Friday, 29 March 2013

A pattern (perhaps)

I thought about it hard, went back through old posts and confirmed it. Last night's was not the first dream I have of SmTn where he's somehow hurt. His leg, his hand, now his back (or knee or other joint). There must be some meaning behind it, wouldn't you agree? It can't all be a coincidence. Perhaps related (perhaps not) is the fact that in the dream where SmTn's leg was hurt there was also a bear, and one of it's paws was hurt too. It's certainly strange. I don't think of SmTn as the sort of person afflicted by injuries, which may or may not make sense. He practices more sports than I can name. He's outdoorsy and active. He's the sort of person who either very rarely gets hurt or can brush it off like it didn't happen.

Third/fourth wheel

I had a dream about SmTn last night. I joined him and his girlfriend fora night out. Don't remember much about this, to be honest. I remember being with a guy I don't know and the girlfriend, who wanted a chignon and asked the guy for help but he was clueless. She then asked me for help, but before I could even get started she put her hair in a ponytail and attached the end of the ponytail to the base so all I had to work with was a loop. She kept bobby pins on the back of her t-shirt's neckline, which I found a little odd. I sort of put something together for her, but when it was time to put in the bobby pins she wouldn't stand still and I'm afraid I hurt her a little with one of the pins. In my dream she was very hyper, the whole time.

I later went grocery shopping with them. There was a bit of a "moment" with SmTn's walking and mine synchronising and I don't know if we said anything "bad" but I do know I was trying hard to be good. At some point she ran to the register because she was in a hurry and she asked SmTn to follow, but he couldn't. He had some kind of back or knee/joint injury. So I took his bags and ran for him to the register with everything. I then helped her place the items on the register, though I was afraid I was not putting them in the right order and she seemed to have a strict system.

There's more to the dream... SmTn told me he'd proposed. Well... everything but, actually. He gave her a ring and asked her to spend the rest of her life with him, but it wasn't marriage per se. She was beyond happy. I was in their apartment (a very nice, rather luxurious, sunbathed, two floor flat) with the guy from earlier. I think her parents were there too to celebrate. I was trying to help anyway I could but there came a moment when she just ran down the stairs and I awkwardly tried to follow but then changed my mind and just went back to the guy and told him I was uncomfortable about the whole thing, not knowing what to do. He didn't seem to have much of a clue either.

I know it sounds silly, but I was a little upset that SmTn had "proposed" because it completely shut the door on everything and in my dream we still had a lot of chemistry.

Thursday, 28 March 2013

Something... nothing...

Very tired. Not exactly news.

Hope I did decent in yesterday's test but I can't be sure of anything at this point. I've been meaning to speak with the circuits professor. If not to attempt to somehow get a better grade in Tuesday's test to at least apologise for my piss poor performance in what has to be the easiest test yet.

Spoke with SmTn yesterday. It was nice, like it always is. He told me of his travels (past and future). He asked about the tango lessons and I told him there's an event I'd love to go to on Saturday but I haven't quite wrapped my head around the logistics of going to a place about an hour away by car at night. I pointed out it would be a fun event to dress up for and have fun in. He playfully suggested I could wear the dark red lipstick. I added "and black heels" but then tried to deflect and de-sexy it by saying I'd show him pictures of the bruises I was sure to get (from falling from trying to dance in heels, that is). He mentioned that in his mind I'm the perfect tango dancer and that passionate things cause bruises. It was very hard not to see a naughty subtext there. Je suis la maîtresse... and it will be the death of me.

I woke up to "Something Good" from The Sound of Music playing in the back of my head this morning. At first it was just snippets "I must have done some-thing goooood" which felt a bit contradictory, given everything I do has a horrible wrong aftertaste to it. I looked up the whole lyrics this time and I was reminded of the fact that for a while there, Maria is "the other woman." Then it felt, for a bit, like my life and my mind orchestrate such things on purpose.




I'm torn. SmTn is, to date, the only man who can tell me (though certainly not in so many words) I'm attractive (in what, to me, are all the right ways) and there are two problems with this: 

1) I believe him, and
2) It's all so wrong.

Even when I know I look horrible and would otherwise feel awful, he makes me smile, he has nice meaningful conversations with me and he makes me feel good about myself... all while living a life I could never be a part of and in turn making me feel remorseful. 

Tuesday, 26 March 2013

Where are the reasonable people?

Where are they?

Uncle A found something he wants me to learn (circuits) and called me to let me know he's buying a book and boards for me to learn because (he claims) I'm going to need it eventually.  Hint: I don't think he knows.

Aunt A just came to ask if I'd like to have some old pyjama pants of hers. She says they just don't fit her "any more." But they're new, totally. She's never even worn them. The way they feel and the fact that they don't have a tag anymore, just mean that she never wears clothes without washing them first. Bollocks. 

Couldn't think of a way to say no. To either of them. 

And I can't say yes to SmTn or anything he stands for. That's just sad, innit?

... or a lie

If it ain't horrible it's a lie. I cannot begin to understand why, even in the face of easily verifiable facts and plain pointlessness.

Meltdown

Before I forget, let me write down a dream I had last night. I was a little girl, maybe around 9 years old, in an old timey rural house. My mother was deadly ill and lay in bed, pregnant, while a figure of Virgin Mary, baby Jesus in her arms, and a nun looked after her. In my dream, my father was a bad man and the nun didn't like him. It was so that I went to visit my mum and spoke with the nun who said she'd solved everything for me. I remember pointing out she was agonizing (as in: she's about to die) and this being clear from the look of desperation in Virgin Mary's face, her face all red and ready to cry. The nun turned my mum to show me what was under her sheets and I noticed blood. Pools of it. She'd killed my mum, thinking she was killing something evil in her or perhaps related to her, or perhaps my father, and realised her mistake only too late. She'd killed the wrong person.

Dreadful dream, I know.

Didn't get a very restful night. Kept waking up wondering what time it was, finding the temperature in my room uncomfortable, trying to remember things I wanted to go over one last time before this morning's exam (which I'm quite sure I failed miserably). 

I don't think there's much room for doubt in stating I failed the exam. I just blew it. There were at least three exceedingly easy questions, 60 exceedingly easy points, and I'm sure even those I got wrong. The three questions were:

1) Adding capacitors and inductors in series and in parallel. I switched up the rules to add them. I fucking knew them. I just didn't think to write them down. And I fucking mixed the two up, adding inductors like resistances and... wait, I just may have gotten that one right... 20 points (hopefully).

2) Adding and dividing complex numbers. Really. As simple as that and I fucked it up. Bloody phasor notation. Whatever's wrong with Euler's notation for complex numbers? Isn't it already very convenient? I got lost converting one form to the other and getting it all mixed up with what vague recollections I had of what I read last night.

3) Solving a differential equation. A very easy differential equation. One of a set of equations I could easily solve for another class, only a few weeks ago. I completely forgot how it was done. I can't believe myself...

I hate the fact that engineering is obliterating my knowledge of mathematics. I hate it. I didn't know that much to begin with! I feel I'm growing stupider by the day! I'm far from motivated and I'm far from happy with what I'm learning. I do declare I never quite felt that way studying chemistry or biology. It's the bloody engineering classes.


[6:44pm edit]
It only just hit me as I was on the bus: I had a dream about my little one last night. It was just so nice seeing her, holding her... I was in a small room where I had been given everything I'd need to give her a bath, including a rubber contraption that swelled up to hold water and soap but had brush bristles too. She was so obedient holding still while I bathed her... Oh, it was just so nice seeing her. Something's bothering me, though. The first time I saw her it was her and the next time she looked like little too, except I knew it was my little one.

Monday, 25 March 2013

It must be horrible (a.k.a. get mad at me all you want, I'm not poisoning the dog)

 - Look at that bike! It's so strange... it must be very hard to drive.
 - I don't think so, it looks like it has the same controls of any other bike.
 - Oh but it must be so fragile... Imagine getting into an accident, it must be very dangerous...
 - *silence*



 - Look at that dog (we usually see this dog and its owner out on walks) it's so fat!
 - It's most likely just fur. That dog goes out for a lot of walks.
 - It's certain to get a heart attack! Wasn't ____ (family dog who died of heart failure) also fat?
 - Nooo. *silence*


 - Oops, dropped a piece of chocolate cookie on the floor. *makes to put it in the bin*
 - Feed it to the dog.
 - Chocolate is toxic to dogs.
 - Oh, she eats anything and she's always been ok. 
 - I'd still rather not. *drops it in the bin*
 - *storms off raging mad*
 - *settles down to eat lunch*


 - Why is the cookie you threw in the bin again in the fridge?
 - It isn't. I dropped a piece of cookie, I put it in the bin. The rest of the cookie stayed in the fridge. Why would I pick something up from the bin to put it in the fridge?
 - Oh, I don't know, that's why I'm asking.

 (╯°□°)╯︵ ┻━┻

[9:43pm edit]
It continues to continue. BCM gave me a lift and I arrived to find uncle A. Nowhere was aunt A to be seen. I suspected she might have been that mad at me because it would not be completely unheard of. Some time later she came to my room to say hello and tell me about her day. Some idiot was tailgating her. She followed rules and slowed down so he could overtake her but he didn't. Instead, aunt A said, he made rude gestures and eventually opted for a manoeuvre that had aunt A braking so hard the tires screeched. I'm with aunt A in that it was very wrong of this man and that she followed proper procedure and that it was not a pleasant situation to be in. But she wanted to make it a close encounter with death that could have resulted in the death of both her and LC4 had he been in the car at the moment and... well, I suppose I can almost understand why uncle A cut her off and got her mad.


It must be such a horrible place inside her head where everything must take a turn for the horrible. She complains about her friends' bad memory and bad health but she fails to see she forgets things often enough and only seems to remember tragic events and examples which she assumes are the norm because she forgets there are alternative endings that have so far led everything to go well enough.

Sunday, 24 March 2013

Wouldn't it be loverly?

It's a little Theresa of me, sorry.

It's also very late of me. For everything. To be writing this, to be thinking of how I haven't studied (again/yet), to... 

It's late.

At any rate, it was lovely talking to SmTn. I love how conversations with him evolve naturally into anything whatever and it's always interesting. I realised that's exactly what K has against him, handsome or not. Here was SmTn telling me about how he likes to observe people, sometimes out of the corner of his eye just to figure out how much he can guess correctly about them before fully seeing them and there was I. 


On an unrelated note, I ran across a picture that included D on facebook. Some wedding or other. My thoughts were, in that order "Marriage? At my age?" and "Oh, look! There's D!... Doesn't look so good, does he? I definitely could do better than him." I wonder if I'll ever feel that way about LesMisGuy...

Random song of the day playing in the back of my head was the Beatles' "You've Got to Hide Your Love Away."





[midnight edit]
Hey, I've accomplished fuck all since I last wrote on this post! Isn't that just great? Not what I wanted to write about, though and I'm not sure why I'm beating around the bush. K is talking to me. Shit.

Saturday, 23 March 2013

Note to self: it's a bad idea to call victory too early

*sigh*

I'm tired. Not exactly news, is it?

Had an exam yesterday. Didn't study properly for it. I thought it would be all right because I managed to read cram the last chapters until I actually read the exam questions. Two questions I'm sure I should have been able to do but spectacularly failed to because of maths. Of all things, maths. I actually wrote impossibly inaccurate formulas only high school students first coming across exponents would believe are true. Goodness... it was very frustrating. Here's hoping I did decently, even though I'm aiming for a 80/100 and that's being generous. 

That still leaves another test I have on Wednesday and have not studied one bit for. Incidentally, I didn't do too well in last week's homework assignment or quiz either. Awesome.

In case there was any doubt, yes procrastination has a lot to do with it. The jaded feeling isn't doing me any favours either.

Procrastination extends to applying for a job. Well, there are several parts to that. Cousin S spoke with a few people. The first of those is a professor who runs a neuroscience lab I could work in, because I'm interested in neuroengineering (or so I've been telling myself and anyone who will listen). So far, so good. I met with him and all went well. He even wrote me an e-mail telling me (paraphrasing a bit) that he'd like to have me working in his lab. Problem? I don't really want to work in his lab: that would involve cutting live animals open and prodding them with electrodes. Not my cup of tea... So, I told cousin S one of the things said professor told me when we met: other students will have an advantage over me (namely, PhD students). Cousin S diligently found other professors I can talk to and I have put off talking to them. I've put off talking to an academic advisor to see about the courses I need to register for next semester and how I'm going to fix a minor inconvenience with my admission (you can imagine, I'm sure, how excited I am about all this).

Maybe if I tell cousin S about the first professor's e-mail over lunch he'll have a word of advice. One thing holding me back from talking to the other professors is that their offices are right next to the first professor's. It would feel like cheating.

Not helping matters any is the fact that they've changed the online job posting system, which means I have to start over from scratch to apply for other jobs. On the not-so-bright side I did receive an e-mail telling me I have a very impressive résumé but they chose someone else for a somewhat menial job.

Also on the subject of calling victory too soon, K. Haven't spoken with him in a while (read: since Wednesday). Something tells me he won't be talking to me and I've quite honestly lost all will to take the initiative. Too one-sided, if you ask me, and I'm not even all that interested. 

Worse still, guess who I am interested in?

I'll give you a second in case the answer's not obvious to you immediately.

Ready?

LesMisGuy. Of course. Surprised?

I know, I know. 


On another subject, is it not time for some ranting about aunt A? Because she thinks I say it's too warm in the house just to aggravate her and she thinks she speaks for the world when she says she's cold. Case at hand, LC4 is coming over. I'm babysitting and he might stay the night. I made his bed and didn't bother with a blanket because it's quite warm anyway but can take it from my closet if need be. Aunt A started about how he might get cold and how he likes to cover himself with a blanket and implied I must be an evil human being wanting LC4 to suffer and die of hypothermia in the freezing cold of 24ºC. I could mention how we saw a tall, thin, scrawny looking guy and she said she was scared for him because he must be anorexic/bulimic/very sick. I could mention how impertinent her questions about aunt LM were. I could mention how she keeps telling me she's totally making an appointment for the facial. I could mention a number of other things. I won't. I'm going with a *Nazgûl shriek* Yes, I just did that. 

Wednesday, 20 March 2013

Why, yes

I have a test in an hour and a half. A test I sort-of studied for on Sunday and Monday thinking it would be on Monday but turned out not to be on Monday (procrastination paid off for the first time ever, or not). And I am writing a blog post rather than trying to cram some more useful information in. 

I had lunch with K today. Allow me to elaborate. I asked K out for lunch. Still not quite enough... Last Friday I gave in and texted him while I was cooking something that would involve me standing in front of a pot for hours, stirring. He eventually stopped answering and I didn't push it. I talked to him again yesterday on facebook because I weighed the pros and cons and figured that if I don't like him all that much to begin with and yet he seems to respond when I talk to him, I didn't have a lot to lose. So far, so good. I asked him out for lunch and we met for lunch. I botched today's statics quiz because I'd told K I'd meet him at 1:30 and at that time I was still taking the quiz and not getting reasonable answers. Even though I can't really afford to drop the ball like that in statics because I need good grades. Just like I do in today's class and I'm not studying either.

How did lunch go? The agreed meeting place was too full, so we switched it to a place that sells sandwiches. With my hair loose, a breeze, and a sandwich falling apart in my hands I didn't have a lot going for me. Oh, and I also forgot to pick up napkins, silly me. I looked anything but glamorous with half a sandwich on the piece of paper in front of me, bread crumbs in my hair (and possibly around my mouth, which I didn't dare lick too much) and dirty hands. The conversation was a bit stuck in the sense that it was divided into short snippets, none of them very interesting, and that I often couldn't quite make out what K was saying. I wouldn't know much about first dates but I dare say I'm terrible at first dates and interviews. Whatever good or nice may be thought about me before an appointment is made and I show up and open my mouth must be proven wrong like it's my mission. To be fair, even though I've probably given him a hard time saying he only wants (or wanted?) to shag me (and that may still be true) I have to admit K was absolutely lovely. He was a gentleman, he was sweet, he offered me some of his chips and offered I could take some of his napkins. I didn't because I was too embarrassed to and just told him I'd wash my hands in a bathroom the next chance I got (="no, I prefer dirty hands"). He ate his sandwich neatly and left about half of the chips for me because he'd offered to share. He made polite conversation. I am just horrible.


In other news, I had a dream featuring the handsome Clive Owen telling the story of a real life Beast from the Beauty and the Beast. He used to be a baseball player until some government-related agency did something to him that turned him into a beast right in the middle of a game as he sat on a bench. The image of a 3D, real-life beast was somewhat breathtaking and yet less scary than I figure it should be. In my dream this Clive Owen person had been in Moonrise Kingdom and knew the kids in it. My dreams don't make a lot of sense. Nothing about me does.


[5.37pm edit]

Oh, goodness déjà vu: I had a very similar napkin-related incident with D.

Sunday, 17 March 2013

Epic procrastination

You know you've been procrastinating too much when you put off writing a blog post (or a couple) to waste time you're still not using to study because it can be done "later" and "later" (which would be right about now, since I have an exam tomorrow) you put off studying to write a blog post.

*sigh*

There's a few things I meant to write and not write about.

I won't be writing of LesMisGuy much anymore... I think. I just don't think of him all that much. It's a good thing. I think I'm finally getting over him.

The man in my thoughts today was SmTn, who I still haven't heard from. I knew he'd be away on vacation (for a week, was it?) and busy working on his thesis defence but I'm officially starting to miss him and thinking a bit too much about him. How do I know it's too much? Because I still don't have an answer to my college application for graduate studies as an engineer and if I get a no for an answer, I could go to summer school and see him and everything would be all right. A part of me actually wants this to happen. That should give you an idea of how much.

Of course. I stopped writing a post to play.

Want to know what's bothering me? (More so than having tests I haven't studied one bit for?) K. The whole thing. That he seemed to be so interested for all of two, maybe three days. That he seems to have lost interest since. That his interest seems to be focused on shagging a girl (or many girls). That the idea of being with him for only sex was growing on me and I am attached enough that I'm upset he doesn't try to contact me anymore. I'm upset that I'm a bit of an attention whore and want him to like me, even if it only means he wants to have sex with me and I (the hopeless romantic, remember?) am willing to commit to the idea of him liking me, even if it means having meaningless sex. What have I come to?

I suppose the rest is the old aunt A-related ranting and I'll spare you this time.

[11:21pm edit]
No, it isn't. There's more to my epic inability to be productive or in the least useful. I'm waiting for something to happen. I'm waiting for SmTn to write, I'm waiting for AOB to send a line or two about his thoughts on Happy Go Lucky, I'm waiting to hear from CtThumbe and the latest guy she went out with or whatever advice she can offer me to deal with K. I'm waiting to find good, exciting news (so far the best I've found comes in the form of fiscal rights for gay couples back home, which I'll call a win even though it broke my heart a little that SweetGuy posted something and an idiot chose to misunderstand it). I'm waiting in case EBF decides to talk to me (he won't). I'm waiting to be admitted (or not) into a graduate programme. I'm waiting to get a job. I'm waiting for life to move in any direction before I go with it, or against it, or anywhere at all. I am just waiting.

[1:25am edit]
What a horrible state of mind and body! I wanted to go to sleep and wake up early to study, so I shut everything down and lay down on the bed but I couldn't sleep. I tried leaving some videos on (first educational, then just regular make-up videos) and those didn't work either. I was too warm, so I changed the fan settings. I am still too warm. I took some loratadine but that didn't make me sleepy either, it just got rid of the somewhat congested nostril that was also keeping me up. I got up and opted for studying, but I can't do that for a very long period of time. I've already turned to facebook (where I found K had been active, but I resisted the impulse to go online... what the fuck would that be for?) and YouTube. I am now writing this instead of studying! And it's already so early/late! We have an appointment in the gym tomorrow, I have to go to class. Goodness knows  (I don't dare look) if I have another test on Tuesday that I won't have time to study for because I'll be too busy sleeping off whatever piles up by the end of the day! Worse still, I keep thinking of things to do other than study or sleep, like pluck the wild hairs on my legs driving me crazy because the wax won't get them. 

Rather random dreams

I had a few dreams last night. Can't say I remember any of them too well, but here goes:

In one dream I was in a Jurassic Park/Hunger Games island. There were dinosaurs and there was a group of children expected to kill one another.

In another dream I went to the beach with two or three other people, one of them a guy who was cold but hadn't brought any more clothes with him. It was fairly cool out, to be fair. The sea was stormy and it kept washing away the sand. Being in the water was dangerous enough to be a little scary.

In yet another dream I was in a room with several other people. It appeared to be some sort of dance class and we were practising a move where women lay on their backs on the floor, lifted their legs and the men did something else after that. My partner couldn't quite figure out a good distance to do the manoeuvre.

In another dream all I remember is K. I don't know what exactly happened with K but we seemed to be having a conversation about us dating or not dating. Or perhaps not. I honestly have no idea. It just seemed a bit odd to be dreaming about him and I thought it was the first time I dreamed about him until I realised it wasn't. 

Friday, 15 March 2013

Stop it!

Had a day out with the twins and family yesterday. I had a lovely time but arrived dead tired. I only just had enough energy to lay in bed for a while, fetch dinner, shower and then not come out of bed again until today.

I had breakfast with aunt A. She asked if I had other cousins on my dad's side and stopped to remark on the tragedy of his two brothers dying so young, one after the other. We talked about the twins and my cousin and how they're doing quite all right but she stopped to remark how they had such a terribly sad childhood. We talked about buying ingredients to make lunch/dinner tomorrow and I pointed out I spoke with mum yesterday about dessert and she stopped me short saying she's heard it just can't be done here. What is it to her? What is it with her? (I know that's a rhetorical question). Why must it be impossible to hold a regular conversation with aunt A without her finding tragedies in fucking everything?

[5:04pm edit]
You don't tell a 5 year old he's very sick and he's going to die! Especially if he's perfectly fine! Agh!

Wednesday, 13 March 2013

But, why?

Something's bothering me. Well, several things actually.

I suppose it starts and ends with K, or lack thereof. I haven't heard from him since... Monday? Or should it be Sunday? I can't quite convince myself to talk to him and he's not talking to me either. What's more, just like the day when I just knew he'd text me and he did, I now know he won't talk to me first. 

My first attempts at "filling the void" rather than studying included talking to AOB and telling him about Moonrise Kingdom and The Perks of Being a Wallflower and how I found them to be good films but could not quite relate to them. He offered I should watch Silver Linings and I came out of it thinking "Jennifer Lawrence is really hot" and little else (namely: "I can't believe we're romanticising mental illness and glorifying such abnormal social behaviour.") This all brings me back to the fact that, to an extent, I am "that hot quirky girl" lead men fall for except I'm just the shaggable girl creeps and a few other men hit on and then abandon. So I'm nothing like Zooey Deschanel or Jennifer Lawrence. I am me, wondering why K doesn't try to talk to me and, more importantly, worried that I care.

Because it's starting to feel a bit like how it was with LesMisGuy and how I might be not so unlike that hot girl from school2 that men would hit on and then realise she was so impossibly thick and self-absorbed they'd give up. I understand not a single one got to sleep with her. Am I her? Am I such a horrible person? It seems to be the case that once they get to know me they're just not that into me. K is just the latest trigger for this line of thought. I worry about the same thing with SmTn who hasn't answered the e-mail I sent him last Wednesday. It could be that he hasn't found internet access in his trip, it could be that he's very busy working on his thesis defence. It could be that he wants nothing to do with me, a fear that is always lurking in the back of my head. 

K hasn't contacted me. SmTn hasn't written back. LesMisGuy wants nothing to do with me. 

It's all rather upsetting. I'm sorry. I'm pretty sure that put together with my post about ridicule in embarrassment it's clear I can't practice what I preach but you can at least know I'm honest when I say I'm very insecure and have self-esteem issues.

AOB, you have no idea

I'm supposed to meet with a professor for a job I'm not too excited about (I don't want to get a job because cousin S knew someone who knew someone, not to mention I've no idea if it involves anything I don't want to do for money). I received a very ambiguous e-mail regarding a meeting date and asked for AOB's opinion on what to do (what I planned to do in the first place, which is to say: show up for all dates until he can see me). Once a "normal" conversation started, AOB casually mentioned he's been drinking a lot more water since he stayed with us and thanked me. He thanked me for starting a good, healthy habit in him.

I should probably write something down I hadn't written down because it's a little embarrassing. For context. Since I joined a gym with aunt A I got a little crazy and obsessive about getting in shape (which in my case means toning muscles, reducing the appearance of cellulite, and losing some volume around my waist, bum and thighs). To this purpose, I started a tiny log where every week I'd measure myself (even though I had to resort to a tiny ruler, an online ruler and a computer cord, which should be evidence enough of the craziness if you didn't trust me a while ago). I'd keep a record of my weight, the circumference around my arms, legs, waist and hips in small note-size bits of paper. I used to keep these stashed with my underwear and for reasons I no longer remember I moved them to my copy of Let's Pretend This Never Happened. Along with these logs, I also started keeping track of how many calories I consumed in a day, compared them to some number a booklet told me I should be having, kept track of how often I had salad meals and added up the calories I had leftover. I kept this religiously in an excel file for at least a month, I think. I fear, but it may be an irrational fear, AOB might have seen this file once when I left it open in my computer with a number of other things. I'm sure AOB saw the tiny note papers with the measurements when I gave him my book.

I was embarrassed of being embarrassed and it was enough reason to stop myself. I now allow myself some chips every once in a while and even a soft drink other than fake lemonade. I wish I wasn't too embarrassed to tell AOB about the whole thing, but I really do thank him.

Now, I am no authority on the subject but I'd like to dabble with body image issues. Here's how my reasoning goes... Ridicule is a very effective punishment. Fear of ridicule will make bad drivers behave, will make a politician think twice about stealing and will keep at least a few people from trying meth. Well, I propose a method of dealing with insecurity through ridicule, à la reductio ad absurdum. If your obsession with body image is embarrassing, you just might give it up for fear of knowing how ridiculous it would be to worry.

Granted, of course there may be people who obsess following an exceedingly strict method for health reasons. I suppose my advice only applies if you are otherwise healthy enough and sane enough to admit it. 

Tuesday, 12 March 2013

Thanks for the support, by the way (Part 2)

Passed half of my test. The other half is pending because aunt A thinks I'm too thick. She actually takes pride in telling people about it, except mum. Mum said nothing, and aunt A didn't even dare push the subject. But BCM and uncle A? They heard all about how I'm too fucking stupid (and offered "maybe she's not"). May I interject for a bit? It is so incredibly infuriating that she'd put words in my mouth to excuse her excuse! UGh! Even though I'm in the house with paper-thin walls! Talk about thick... I've said nothing. I'm looking at alternatives, however expensive, and I've kept to my room pretty much all day. I didn't even stop to have dinner outside. I made soup for dinner, but I didn't eat it in the kitchen arguing I was hungry early and didn't feel like waiting. Bollocks, I should know, but I don't feel like putting up with other shit and I've already opted to be silent about it. I didn't refute, I didn't argue. I shut the fuck up and let aunt A tell tragedies. I'm stuck, then.

Monday, 11 March 2013

Thanks for the support, by the way

I bit the bullet and scheduled the test to try and be at least half of a person. It's scheduled for tomorrow at 11am. I've spent a good deal of today's afternoon studying test questions I found online. Not for the first time ever, aunt A chipped in with her experience taking the test, which quickly took a condescending note "They'll ask you things you don't know, you're going to fail it, hear me out." I eventually let out a "I'll look it up online," which was meant as a "I can study on my own, I don't need to hear about what they asked you goodness knows how long ago" but was said (promise) in a very calm way. Aunt A broke out asking why I had to answer angrily and I pointed out I hadn't, repeating what I'd just said. Her wanting to be offended angered me, her condescension was just annoying me. During lunch aunt A asked about plans for when my sister comes to visit and pressed for answers I offered the only thing that came to mind and regretted it immediately. You see, we've been considering a trip to another city... It would cost money (doesn't everything?) but it could potentially be awesome and almost film-fabulous. Want to know what aunt A said? "Going there is expensive, you know" and yes, I fucking know. I heard it as a "You're too poor to go" and... *curses*

On the subject of the test, I know I'm rusty but I'm not a complete idiot and it should really not be that bloody hard. I studied this afternoon and if K's right it should be moderately easy. But my parents, my sister and A are all about the "Are you even ready? Do you think you'll pass?" which is bloody annoying and a little insulting.


On the subject of K, I somewhat stupidly realised that yes, he's rather handsome. I somewhat stupidly hoped he would try to talk to me and talked myself out of starting a conversation because "I'll come across as being too needy," "he's not online right now" and "it's just too late." This whole situation confuses me. If he's after me and he texts me and seems too eager I'm stunned and uncomfortable because he likes me and he doesn't know me and I still think he only just wants to shag me (if he even wants to shag me anymore). Since I fucked up on Friday I'm inexplicably worried that he's just not interested in me and it must mean horrible things about me. To make matters worse, I'm already wondering if it would work out with him (answer: it's too soon to know, he'd have to prove less boring than he seems). Last night I caved and started a conversation with him. We talked for quite a while and he even said something along the lines of "we should meet for x some day," so I assumed it was "going well" (whatever that can mean" and then today he hasn't talked to me and I'm torn between wishing he'd write (knowing it really is too late already), hoping CtThumbe will have advice and trying to reason with myself. 

Wish me luck, blog, darling. I wish SmTn would write soon. I wish I got an answer from the admissions department already (really, either answer is kind of meh, except not going in is a different can of worms because it means I have to re-plan what to do). I wish K were interested and I were too. I wish I didn't have to take the bloody test.


Oh, lest I forget:

"I'm a woman. Not a (bloody) victim."

"Dead end. Isn't that redundant?"

Soundtrack since I sent SmTn an e-mail last Wednesday is "I can see clearly now," the Jimmy Cliff version.



Saturday, 9 March 2013

That was fast

I had a fairly intense dream I deliberately woke myself up from this morning. It was a dream (or rather, a half-asleep state of fantasy) where I was lying in bed and K was lying in bed next to me (on my left), kissing me. His kisses were sweet and actually quite nice and not-nearly-as-awkward-as-I-would-have-thought. It was, however, too soon to be having such dreams, wouldn't you say? I can't say yesterday afternoon begins to explain it.

Yesterday morning I had to arrive early to hand in what will hopefully turn into another 15 points for my statics exam. When I got on the bus I texted the guy in my class to ask if he'd like to go over the answers before handing them in. He answered 50min later, which I only noticed 7 hours late. I felt disgusting. I apologised profusely and he wrote back a few hours later telling me not to worry but I'd already made up my mind: I owe him a piece of candy/chocolate. It just won't do to otherwise. I also felt disgusting leaving my last class yesterday. Part of it was due to the fact that my hair was (and still is, I haven't showered yet) absurdly oily and I had no way to disguise it. It would not have mattered much if not for the fact that I'd agreed to meet K for coffee after class if I got out early (which I did). We did not have coffee, though. He gave up salsa lessons to hang out with me, I could not understand where he said we'd meet, which led to a somewhat awkward moment, and it turned out everything was closed. So I offered he could walk with me to the bus stop and we could talk until the bus arrived which was maybe 10min later because I'm a horrible person and I couldn't think of anything else but somehow imagined the bus would come later (if only 10min later). 

When he called to ask where we'd meet I realised I did not remember his voice and that his accent was suddenly hard to understand. When I walked toward him I had to actively tell myself to calm down and not focus on the fact that I did not remember his face and this was only the second time we met but we were already meeting for coffee. 

The short conversation started with a polite (and nice-polite) "How was your day?" from him and I'm afraid I could not hold a conversation like a normal person. I was ignorant, I was awkward, I was most likely very self-centred and selfish.

So, tell me: how come I had a dream where he kissed me last night and I was hoping he'd talk to me if he saw me online on facebook just now? Am I succumbing to squirrel logic? What a dreadful thought!

Thursday, 7 March 2013

The awkward moment

I just don't know anymore. Should I? Shouldn't I? The part of me that enjoys the attention wanted to start a conversation with K. I'm at BCM's, babysitting, trying not to fall asleep and trying to make myself study (failing miserably, as you can imagine). 

[morning after edit]

I debated with myself about whether or not to start a conversation with him and when I went to write a message I realised I had no idea how to start a conversation. So, I turned to my phone and found messages from a guy in my statics class I'd gotten together to study with yesterday morning. He'd gotten a copy of the solved exam if I wanted to take a look at it and compare it to what I had (which would set me free at last, after poring over my equations and not being able to find the errors. I was glad but felt a bit like I was using him and felt horrible. Absolutely fucking awful. And that's why I ended up messaging K, even though I left CtThumbe a message and she said I should just wait until we met again (for tango) to talk to him. We talked for a bit and next thing you know he's telling me I may have trust issues, which I answered with "totally, and yet I sometimes speak to strangers even when it might be downright stupidly dangerous." He didn't write again until this morning around 10 and (alas!) is still writing. I'm a little scared that I'm 1) scaring him into knowing I'm fucked up and 2) doing it on purpose and 3) he hasn't quite backed off. 

I'm impossibly tired after staying up until 3, getting up early to be here before noon and I still haven't read the chapter due this week for today's class, nor have I done the homework assignment due in four hours. *sigh*

Why is it that at times like this I look forward to an e-mail from SmTn?

I knew it, now what do I do?

I told you I'd be writing about K again soon enough. I got angsty and started glancing at my phone every once in a while, guessing he'd text tonight and guess what? He of course did. What you may not be able to guess is that he actually asked if I'd like to have lunch with him some time. I'm officially freaking out because:

1) I failed (miserably) the statics test and have to re-do it and hand it in before noon tomorrow (which will most likely mean "before the end of the day")

2) I plan to wake up in 6 hours' time to go to university early tomorrow morning

3) I have absolutely no idea how to handle the fact that K might want to bang me (one must assume that's all there is to it)

4) I have not studied properly for tomorrow's quiz

5) Have you noticed I'm writing in the blog instead of dealing with any of the above?

6) Why have I not even mentioned (I know I'm ashamed, but am I that ashamed...?) that I'm actually well aware of the fact that I'm leading K on and sometimes do so on purpose, even though I should be studying?

Wednesday, 6 March 2013

Tag

I'm sorry, my writing voice is just not quite with me today. The other post I started earlier today I'll post later. For now let me just leave two tidbits of information:

1) As I sat at the bus stop a man walked to me and asked if I had some change to spare. I said I didn't and tried to avoid conversation but he started one anyway: "You know you're pretty, right?" or "Do you know you're pretty?"... something along those lines. He then went on to tell me about how important it is to get an education and how a nephew of his is doing great with his newly earned degree. He soon enough left me to tell the other person waiting at the bus stop about his nephew.

2) I went to tango lessons today. Met K, who I'm sure I'll end up mentioning again because I'm sure this is not the last I've seen of him. He's also a beginner, but we danced together (for quite a bit, too, because we ended up talking more than dancing). He's the last person I danced with, which means he got to ask me, phone in hand as I left, for my number and I gave it to him. Because... sure, why not. I asked him to text me his name just so I'd know his number too (and his name, I'm afraid I only remember the names of two people there even though I was introduced to at least 5). Anyway, there was a "vibe" and he started texting me pretty much as soon as I got in the car and then a little more after we arrived. He eventually asked around 11:10pm what time I usually went to sleep saying he didn't want to disturb me and I answered with an "Around midnight..." leaving it up to him to go on talking until midnight or start a conversation later. I'm on the fence as to whether or not this means anything at all. I confess I've let a few rogue thoughts race through my head and it's... not an entirely unpleasant scenario. At any rate, I walked in wanting no more than to make friends and I'm well aware of the fact that he only joined the group to find a girl to shag so... Tag if I'm fucking it.

Monday, 4 March 2013

Are you kidding me?

Hundert prozent serious: are you fucking kidding me?

I made myself a Greek-style inspired salad with pistachios, goat cheese and anchovies tonight. I ate at the table with aunt A and uncle A and left with a granola bar to eat in my room while I looked at a few things on the internet. I did not, like I usually do, clean up the dishes before leaving because I didn't quite feel like doing the dishes.

Aunt A came to my room before I had time to finish the granola bars to inform me: "You left the pistachio shells and the tin of anchovies out, you know. I put them away for you." And she said it with this tone... like I'm "the help" and she's the sort of person who uses such terms. Now, yes I left the pistachio shells and the tin out on the cutting board but consider... aunt A usually leaves a heap of rubbish right next to the sink. Not in the rubbish bin (which, mind you, is right under the sink) but next to the sink. And I'm the one who does the dishes and puts her mess away. Often, a mess that has been left there well past dinner time is over. (Note I'm not even scratching the surface of the subject of cleanliness in this house.)

So, someone please tell me, where is she coming from all high and fucking mighty telling me such things in such a tone?

*Nazgûl shriek*

Sunday, 3 March 2013

No such thing as a body mask

I'm considering taking tango lessons. Which is to say, they are held at very inconvenient times, I attended the first lesson and I'm considering showing up for the next ones if I can find a way to do it without having to run out early or inconvenience aunt A with having to pick me up. You know how she pretends menstrual cramps are simple tummy aches and she doesn't usually pay much attention to them? Well, last night I had cramps and had run out of pain relievers so I asked for some more. Fast forward to this morning she asked me if I was all right and whether I would even feel good enough to go dancing tango. On a bad day of cramps, I would have bent over in pain, not moving, not eating, not sleeping. But I don't have mum or even my sister to offer a hot cup of tea to deal with such days so I have to toughen up and make sure I don't have them. The pills I ended up using (more leftovers of hers, since she refuses to admit acetaminophen is a perfectly acceptable pain reliever) are fairly strong and I was good until just about now with the pill I took this morning. 

Fast forward to the 35min of the lesson I managed to be there for. I won't bore you with details. There was this guy who was a bit less of a beginner than the others were. I danced with him once and he remarked I was anticipating his movements and wasn't waiting for him to make them in order to follow. I was tempted to write a cheap psychology analysis based on this but the cat is a bit too comfortable laying on my chest and making typing a bit too hard. I just thought it was worth mentioning. 

Saturday, 2 March 2013

La fille de l'après midi (ou après minuit)

Ça dépend, vraiment... C'est l'après midi ici, après minuit là. Où? Chez SmTn.

Voyez... depuis deux, trois jours je me suis rappelée d'une chanson plus (c'est à dire, d'autre que "Libertango"): "La fille de l’après midi" (dit on "par" ou "d'" Élodie Frégé?). 




Malheureusement je me suis aussi rappelée d'une chanson par Shakira (Shakira! pour la première fois depuis... dis ans?) et j'ai remarqué qu'elle a des paroles pareilles. Das macht nichts... Bien. Je me suis rappelée de cette chanson et, à vrai dire, je ne connaissais pas les paroles. Je viens de parler avec SmTn qui part à Thailande demain, j'imagine, avec sa petite amie. À son retour, il va présenter sa thèse et fêter son nouveau titre. J'ai lui raconté que je vais à l'université demain, que je veux apprendre à danser le tango. Il m'a répondu avec une question: vais-je m'habiller avec une jupe noire et vais je porter un rouge à lèvres rouge foncé? Je vais vous demander de lire ce paragraphe encore une fois. C'est clair? 

Je suis sa maîtresse. Moi, je rêve de lui, mais je n'ai lui pas dit (pas des rêves compromettantes). Nous parlons de tout et de rien mais "tout" ne comprend pas des sentiments. On dit "C'est joli, parler avec toi!" ou "Il me manquait, parler avec toi" mais pas plus. Quelque nuit il m'a dit qu'il était levé très tard pour parler avec moi, que sa petite amie dormait et ses mots ont brisé mon cœur. En fait, je savais déjà qu'il avait une petite amie... qu'ils habitaient ensemble? Non. Qu'il me parle seulement s'il est seul à son bureau ou tard dans la nuit... Je fais semblant de ne pas le remarquer. Ça voudrait dire... ça voudrait dire... ça veut dire que je suis sa maîtresse et je n'aime pas le penser. Même si on ne parle pas d'amour depuis deux ans, même si j'ai lui dit que je ne veux rien être d'autre q'une amie... c'est une amie spéciale, une amie avec qui on parle seulement tard dans la nuit, seul, à qui on demande: "Vas tu t'habiller et te maquiller sexy?" J'imagine qu'il ne l'a pas remarqué à cause de ma petite obsession pour le maquillage. Seigneur cerf... 

Bien entendu, après écrire ces paragraphes j'ai deux choses fait: acheter un rouge à lèvres rouge foncé et me décider à voir Amélie.