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Tuesday, 30 April 2013

Silence and cheap psychology

I've been pretty much silent for a while now on the blog. I've been pretty much silent elsewhere, I reckon. Doesn't matter if aunt LM called to thank me for her early birthday present, or if mum called to check in on me. I actively seek solitude and quiet. The word I'm missing there is "peace"... as in "peace and quiet." That one I've quite given up on.

The whole reason I'm here typing is actually a YouTube video: Vsauce's overview of kissing made me remember LesMisGuy. I must say, I didn't like the underlying message that said "This is why pick up artists actually enjoy moderate (read: debatable, as opposed to "nonexistent") success." Turns out uncertainty is correlated to attachment: a randomly generated pattern of affection and disinterest will work better than only being affectionate when it comes to making someone want to be with you. This is a bit contradictory when you consider one of the experiments marked comfort and warmth as more important than physical/physiological fulfilment but opens the door to a new question: what if we find comfort in uncertainty?

I know it sounds silly at first, but stop to consider the idea. Ultimately, uncertainty makes living in the present the only efficient choice. 

Makes me feel all the more miserable thinking of LesMisGuy... never said it was supposed to be a particularly bright revelation, nor that it would in any way help me deal with anything. I'm just coming to realise it's been a very long while since I last kissed anyone. A few years ago I had my little one but now there's not even her. And the thought still makes me want to cry.

*sigh*

I thought I'd write more... about SmTn, about exams, about my future (or lack thereof), about paranoia, K, Bollywood, my misplaced appetite, how overjoyed I am when I find things I'd given up as lost (however small, cheap or insignificant) and ... I don't know what else anymore.  I'm in no mood. Silence it is. 

Sunday, 28 April 2013

Very short reviews

Taare Zameen Par
Wonderful. Cried like a little girl. It's just a beautiful story and it was beautifully told. I'm afraid it would take a turn for the worse most anywhere else.

Ghulam
Very 80s-90s. So bad it's almost good. Key word almost.

Friday, 26 April 2013

Spiders can't type

SmTn wrote an e-mail. It arrived around 5am this morning. So there: he wrote like he said he would. And it was a long e-mail too... It even included maths! But it was somehow anticlimactic. The suggestion on the right that I include another facebook account of his (the one attached to another e-mail address) bothered me a bit. SmTn, my honey? Something's off... And it's not just the additional facebook profile I can see nothing but the name of, it's not just the "I'll be gone for a while, but let's make a date to talk :)" at the end of his e-mail. I wonder if it's how long we've gone without talking but it shouldn't be an issue because we've gone longer without talking and nothing felt off like it does now. I wonder if it's... I don't know what it is. *sigh* Maybe it's nothing and it will all be all right in a while. Maybe my spidey senses are wrong. We'll see.

There are things I'd like to tell SmTn. I want to tell him I can now lift 75kg on the leg press machine and have graduated to full push-ups from the girl ones I was doing before. I want to tell him I'm sad because the gay marriage bill sank in idiocy. I want to tell him I've discovered Bollywood and fallen in celebrity love with Aamir Khan. I want to tell him I might need some help if he has anything to teach me about mathematical models. And yet... though I would have been only too eager to write those things a couple of days ago I'm not quite in the mood today. Maybe I'll get back to him in a few days. 


 I found it! The song stuck in my head is not from Raja Hindustani, it's from Lagaan: "Mitwa."



Thursday, 25 April 2013

I thought I had more to write... turns out I didn't

I suppose I'll think of a title along the way. This first few sentences make no sense to you, reader, because you are in the future where I have already chosen a title for this post. But I haven't yet and I'm not even entirely sure how to go about writing this.

Let's see... there's a couple of film reviews pending. Mangal Pandey from last night and Lagaan from just now. I don't need to tell you who stars in both and is still irresistible. The former was good but not brilliant. It was respectable but not very impressive (especially once you get used to his acting). The latter, however, made a very exciting sports drama (I'm not sure if that's the proper genre but I won't look it up just now). Much more so than  Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar. I have only one complaint, one I shouldn't be allowed to make: does he star in all the films he's in? I shouldn't ask because I've specifically chosen films he's in and he's a superstar so it figures he'd be the lead in all of them (except, perhaps, Dil Chahta Hai but... wait. I had to look up the title and it turns out these two films came out in the same year... he does not cease to amaze and impress me...[or should that be ampress me?]) Anyway, as much as I love seeing him (especially up close because... those eyes... those eyes!) it becomes a bit cliché seeing him play hero all the time. 

Speaking of clichés, can we turn to the subject of stereotyping, especially of the blatantly ignorant discriminating type? Aunt A made a remark about an event in the news. They love to make the bad guy a foreigner and aunt A mentioned something she'd mentioned several times already about a time (goodness knows how long ago) when a lot of women from Russia (she says, I'm sure it could be any former USSR country) arrived and ended up sacked for stealing. She seemed to read my mind and collected herself saying "not that I'm saying all Russian women are like this, but almost all of the ones that came to work with me were thieves." I left it alone because she seemed to listen to herself for once. And yet this morning when pest control came to make the rounds she started the conversation. It was as if she needed to make her "clever" remark and necessitated an audience. I have no doubts she set it all up to sound smart in her ignorance. And then it hit me: such stupid prejudices prevail because the people who hold them think it's smart as long as they're part of a majority. If they were a minority they'd find some shame in it and keep quiet. You don't see a lot of people saying black people can't vote, do you? Well... here's hoping that the next generations soon outnumber the archaic ones so reason becomes a majority. 

Today's soundtrack included "Postcards from Italy."




I spoke with Ck. Turns out the job offer just might be as good as Pf2 said. She was very nice and we talked quite a bit. I'm afraid of having to help her because I could be completely unable to. I'll use the excuse to study maths any time, though. Whenever I'm not lost in Bollywood, that is.

Wednesday, 24 April 2013

If you were to ask me

Well, I would be tempted but I probably wouldn't say it. I already passed on the chance twice and and aunt LM and K are the only ones who'll ask me how I'm doing today and I already said "good." True answer? After 4:30pm today when I found out the bill proposing the legalisation of gay marriage was shot down by the cavemen in congress, I'm sad. Genuinely sad. Makes-me-want-to-cry-and-I'm-not-even-kidding sad. True story: I actually almost started crying on the bus back. That's how serious I am.

I had time to think. I ask cavemen why on Earth they care so much to go out of their way to veto other people's rights and it's only fair that I ask why I care if I don't even believe in marriage for myself. And the answer is Voltairesque: I will defend to the death the right of others to do even the things I don't personally believe in. This will always be true as long as you're not actually preventing others from doing what they want (which is why I stand my ground thinking it's them cavemen who are on the wrong side of this argument). I believe in love and I believe that marriage is an important milestone for a lot of people. I believe that if I can love a man then no one's to say another man can't. I could marry if I wanted to, and I want it to be a matter of choice (not possibility) for everyone else because it's only fair.

Just realised "Are you content?" just posted on Facebook "A mistake was made today. Hopefully it will be fixed in the near future." with a YouTube video. It's a short film (20min long) of what bullying to suicide would look like if hetero was queer and homo were the norm.  It made me cry a little. 

I believe the only highlight of my day will be the fact that the cute guy who plays 1940s music was one of the bus drivers today. He has a lovely smile.


Soundtrack of the day, starting the moment I got on the bus back? "Simple and Clean."




[next midnight edit] it's actually remixed with "Something Got Me Started," the chorus. 


(Waaaaait for iiiiit...)

For some odd reason, yesterday I briefly got stuck with "Contigo."Which reminded me of EBF... but let's not go there.



Tuesday, 23 April 2013

Your kindness is surely to be repaid

53, 3, 17, 20, 56, 8


Sounds like the sort of thing I can't exactly look forward to, though. For one, that "surely" sounds less certain than I'd like it to and also... well, something tells me this is an "in the long run" sort of statement. So I really can't look forward to anything related to it.

A brief moment of excitement to celebrate legalised gay love in the cliché love country of the world (France, that is). I would take up a few paragraphs to rant about the fact that one of the twins "liked" a facebook group fighting against marriage equality back home and how sick to the stomach it makes me feel. They openly say "NO! WE DON'T BELIEVE IN EQUALITY!" the same way you'd say "EVEN A CAVEMAN WOULD BE MORE REASONABLE ABOUT THIS! GRRRRR!" (Before you try to argue with me on this, yes a caveman would be more reasonable because a caveman wouldn't care if gay people wanted to marry.) What do they care?! If you didn't like pickles and others did, would you go on a crusade to make sure no one ate a pickle ever? If you don't like people of your same sex, don't date them! Don't marry them! What's it to you if they want to marry and have the same rights you have? Oh, you think that if they're allowed to marry then they're allowed to adopt children and that's what's completely wrong. How the fuck is it wrong? What is the matter with you? Good people make good parents, regardless of who they love or like to sleep with. 

Allowing gay people to also be parents opens the door to making a lot of children happier than they ever will be as "part of the system." Don't come at me with ridiculous statements about bogus relationships between paedophilia and homosexuality, don't tell me about the outrageous claims of HIV and anal cancer (because, seriously, what the fuck?), and stop worrying that the children will turn gay. Children are not turned gay by their parents, nor are they turned straight either. It certainly doesn't matter who your genetic maker loves in terms of who you'll love. What matters is that you get a glimpse at what nice, loving people look like when they take care of you. Should the child adopted by a gay couple chance to be gay, then so fucking what? Is that a bad thing? That's the underlying statement! To you people being gay is inherently wrong and it's an ill that has to be cured in society. But who you love doesn't change who you are and I can't believe you still haven't realised this.



Because I'm not quite done ranting (I'm just done ranting about that stupid group) I'd like to add aunt A's reprimand of the day. You know how she makes me take whatever pills she has leftover, some samples her doctor gave her and she never intended to use? Well, they're samples and as such they just so happen to come with coupons. Mind you, aunt A very rarely, if ever, uses coupons. She says she forgets. If it were so important I'm sure I wouldn't. She's not the one buying these pills. I'm the one who takes them and needs them. It just might be the case I won't want anything to do with these pills when they run out. If I did, though, there are still plenty of samples left, and plenty of coupons left. I'm sure  you can't put them together to buy a single bottle, so I really don't see how it matters that I've thrown away the coupons that came with the pills I took. There are more left. There's a good chance we won't even use the coupons because they expire in June and it's almost May already. Why must she bicker over the littlest things? Why is she always looking for a reason to be mad? I said nothing, not even to mum, about how aunt A didn't pick up the phone at all this afternoon and I ended up walking for 45min (on a quite hot day) to get here. She was hardly sorry at all and only said "Oh, I  must have left the phone on 'silent' mode..." I can keep calm and carry on. Why can't she? Why?


All right. Now, that I'm done ranting... I wonder, what's up with AOB and SmTn? I've been trying to talk to AOB but all I get is an odd message here and there. Even when I know he's around (because he's justanswered) I'll write again hoping to get a conversation started and he'll stay silent for days. As for SmTn... I don't want to write. I'll feel needy and insistent. He said he'd write. It's just... it's been at least two weeks since we last talked, and it's been a month since he last wrote. It's been a while and I miss him.

Monday, 22 April 2013

Torture, but it's a love story

So maybe the "love story" aspect of it isn't such a big deal, I'm starting to think all Bollywood films feature a love story as a minimum requirement. I'm watching Raja Hindustani. Because... I don't know, it stars Aamir Khan (no surprise there), and... I ... can? I should probably be reading a document to help cousin S's friend with maths, or I could be studying, or... I don't know, I could be useful.

While I have to turn away from the embarrassing moments in Raja Hindustani, I thought I'd have another fortune cookie (there were 3 more than the one I first had). I must say... the controversial kiss is well acted (some of the best acting in the whole film, I'm afraid, because the rest of it's terrible) but hardly controversial. It, er... well, it certainly reminded me of kissing LesMisGuy. Minus the meaning behind it all, of course. I'm disappointed in the storyline, though. I appreciate how genuinely taxi-driver Raja is but it rubs me the wrong way. It just does... Moreover, (why did I almost time "overmore"?) the storyline moves so slowly! And so embarrassingly... Oh dear... Why can't I stop watching?

Oh, I know. I'm curious to know just how bad it is. It has to be one of the worst films I've ever seen. Worse than Kauas Pilver Karkaavat by a long shot. This is just awful. Every coming minute worse than the one before it. I don't know how much worse it can be before it ends and there are only 10 or so minutes left. Really, how much worse? I don't suppose it matters much. I think it's official: this one takes the cake. It's the single worst film I've ever sat through. Bollywood, I am disappoint.

Mr. Aamir Khan, sir, I forgive you. Your acting was spot on, the part was just a terrible one in an awful film.


Oh, the fortune cookie! It reads: "Advancement will come with hard work." Lucky numbers 4, 15, 19, 35, 36, 27.

Zoobi do, no shame in it

It's now a week. I can't get the song out of my head. I'm playing it on a loop even now as I type. I'm not ashamed to admit it. It makes me happy. And I want to be happy. It's a nice form of stress relief. Stress? Aunt A woke up late to go to the gym today, not unusual, it's fine. She left her breakfast dishes in the sink, so did I. After we got back from the gym I showered, studied a bit, got ready to leave early so she can make her doctor's appointment. That included having lunch around noon, which I did. While I re-heated yesterday's leftovers from lunch I saw the sink and decided to wash them while I was in the kitchen. Yesterday night the washing machine looked about ready to go so I didn't bother. Nothing out of the ordinary right? Well, when aunt A walked into the kitchen to tell me about some tragedy or other and how the world is out to get you and how she's absolutely justified in never trusting anything or anyone because the world is just such a horrible place, she asked why I hadn't put the dishes in the washing machine. It looked full enough last night. No biggie, you'd think. Well, as I was brushing my teeth she walked over to the bathroom, mad at me, asking if I'd really looked in the washing machine and telling me there was plenty of room! Excuse me? I wash the dishes you left in the sink (rather than leaving them yourself in the washing machine if it's such a big deal or doing anything with them at all though you were "doing chores around the house") and you have reason to get mad at me because I didn't put them in the machine? Which can still be filled tonight or whenever, it's not like the dishes are going anywhere? Zoobi doobi time. Zoobi doobi. 



I'm tired (is that ever unusual?)

I had a dream this morning where I had students and one or more of them had grown crushes on me. One of them had sent me a strange bouquet of spray painted flowers in bright fluorescent colours and colourful birds' feathers. I remember cutting them, trying to arrange them into a vase... I remember the old man saying one of them had called repeatedly. 

I remember D being in another dream and touching me, trying to recreate what LesMisGuy did, and it just not working. Even when I told him what to do it just didn't feel right. Frustrating for him, kind of annoying for me, as I didn't really want him touching me but we were already "there." 

In another part of a dream lots of girls, including a girl I'm in class with right now, CtThumbe and N1, were here in the general dining room/kitchen area. I was trying to make sure they all had something they liked to eat. 

In another dream there was a train where people waited in line to buy soft drinks. 

In another dream there was a car crash and a somewhat odd team of policemen: a woman in the department knew the streets and everything traffic-related going on in them but no one seemed to trust her or want her help, even though they were impressed by the fact that she was able to move around much more effectively than anyone else. She was eager to to some field work, if they'd let her. 

In yet another dream I remember I was preparing gifts. One of them was a watch in a wooden box for a friend of my sister's (blue hair). I'd left it alone for a bit while I prepared other gifts and when I got back to it I found my sister and her friends had started to help me pack, except it didn't look very nice. They'd covered the wooden box with styrofoam pieces held together with glue and pins. But the styrofoam pieces were not smooth or even, they actually looked old and worn and were falling apart a bit. A piece was missing on the side. I didn't want to ruin their work, on the one hand because it looked so laborious and on the other because they'd hammered the pins to the wooden box on the back and removing everything would have just uncovered the damage to the box. I just remember thinking it wouldn't look very nice when I tried to wrap paper around that uneven shape.

Sunday, 21 April 2013

24, 4, 42, 44, 46, 16


 There's a good chance of a romantic encounter soon.

Rational me thought "Sure, 'good chance'... means it won't happen in this particular universe, just in lots of the others" but I'm superstitious, so I kept the fortune cookie message and I kept it to myself when aunt A asked what was in it (in case you couldn't guess, we had lunch at a Chinese restaurant). Because it somehow feels like I'll jinx it, even though 99% of me knows it's meaningless nonsense. 

Also, isn't it odd (or, shall I say "doubly-even"? *ba-dum-tss*) all but one of my lucky numbers had a 4, and the one that "doesn't" is actually a product of 4. (Blast you people at Dell! Why can't I type Alt codes on my shiny new laptop?)


Nope, can't get the song out of my head. (Why does it feel like it's meaningful to point out that the version of the song playing in the background of my thoughts is the one that plays at the end? Pa-ra-ba ram-pam-pam-pam pEh-ra, pa-ra-ba pam-pam-pam pa-ra) Zoobi doobi indeed, darling heart. That's how it used to go. It's been a while. No amount of singing and listening to that song on loop will make anything happen, I'm afraid. 




Could we move on? Or at least study a bit as if it were important?

Rogue thought: "What are films for if not to pretend, for however brief a period of time, that scenes from our lives belong in one and hope for properly written plot twists and endings?"

Bollywood, Bollywood... Bollywood

All right, after not nearly enough times of watching 3 idiots I gave in and decided to watch other films. By Mr. Aamir Khan, of course... Second in line after 3 idiots was Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar. (And yes, I say "in line" because there is at least a third, but we'll get there later). All I can say about it is that it's so. very 80s. Not quite as funny as 3 idiots, the story was not nearly as exciting or heartwarming. I will say, though, that Bollywood has a long tradition of knowing how to keep you glued to your seat waiting to see a story unfold, even when you know what's going to happen, if this film in particular is any proof of it.

Now, that one I went into blindly, not having a clue what it was about. Ghajini I walked into willingly and I should have known better. Bear in mind, I've given at least 7 10 hours of the last 24 to watching Bollywood films (or Aamir Khan, whichever you prefer). This tells you something of an obsessive compulsion of mine. I should warn you, reader. Ghajini is inspired by Memento. I hated Memento. Wikipedia said it was not quite the Indian Memento so I gave it a try and I have to agree with Wikipedia and disagree with my poor judgement. I don't know what possessed me. Let's get on to why I agree with Wikipedia and you might understand the rest. I agree with Wikipedia because while the story is, in fact, centred about a man with short-term memory wanting revenge and using the same techniques... Bollywood has a very different way of telling the story. 

Bollywood films regularly take about 3 hours, it seems. It's on purpose. It's called character development Hollywood, take a hint. You'd think it ridiculous to include musical numbers and comedy and put so much time into the drama of how Sanjay fell in love with Kalpana, but every laugh, every giggle and every "Awwwww" will make you want to cry even more later. Even more so when you're seconds away from the inevitable, long-ago-announced murder and you find yourself wishing there was some way she actually survived and they can somehow have a happy ending. The fact that Bollywood is so quick to pair tragedy and comedy is not so much a faux pas as it is genius. While I'd normally hate to be manipulated into feeling anything "announced," I appreciate this way of doing it. This is not so much a "Feel sad! It's time to feel sad!" as a "Remember all of those nice things? Well, they can't be. Deal with it."

Side note: One thing I absolutely detested in the film? Sunita. I could not stand her. She was used so cheaply to be nosy and in the way and to move the story forward... above all, she was just such an unbelievably stupid, foolish character!

Now you can probably see why I was sobbing at 2am and at 3am because everything was set up for a lovely story with a charming man and an endearing happy-go-lucky woman (I could swear that scene with the blind man was from Happy Go Lucky Amélie). I knew she was going to die a horrible death. I knew all he could get was revenge and death in that order. I don't really care if they gave him a "happy" ending and I won't take down those quotation marks, damn it. 

Mr. Aamir Khan, sir, well played. You are an amazing actor and, Wikipedia tells me, a truly admirable human being. I am very impressed. Not just anyone could play action hero, nerd, spiritual guide, backstreet boy, Prince Charming and doofus. Not even Johnny Depp. I am in celebrity love with you. The teen chest hair, Gaston style? Sexy. The hip sways? Very sexy. Speaking French? Très sexy. The sudden loss of chest hair showing a very muscular body? Sexy-sexy, if I do say so myself. The loss of some of that muscle to reveal a more average complexion and growing a little body hair? Even more sexy! Hold on a second, he was 45 when he played a college student? I know a lot of it was massive amounts of impeccably applied make-up, and still... Wow... Wait. He does the singing in some of the films? 

He can sing, he can dance, 
after all, it's Aamir Khan... 
And a film he's in is seldom second-best
I've got a lot to do
Shall I watch one or two...?
Films of the best...
Of the best...
Of the best, yes, he's... the... beeeeeeeeest!

Oh, and, above all else, those eyes....? To paraphrase him (sorry) "Oh God!". 

Hollywood, take note! That's what I call a well-rounded actor! It's not just that he can transform so well, so readily. It's not how many films he's been in (apparently, very many). It's talent. Rest in peace, Patrick Swayze. Someone give Hollywood the head's up about Hugh Jackman. Everyone stop bitching about Anne Hathaway. Don't adapt Bollywood, Hollywood. Try one Bollywood film. I dare you. Oh, that's what Slumdog Millionaire was supposed to be... sorry, you just don't measure up.

I'm actually a little late, coming to meet Bollywood. It has the manly men doing the fabulous things like lip-syncing and dancing! It has the music! It has the flamboyancy! It has the old-fashioned, prudish romance! (I don't think I've seen a single French kiss and I don't think I'll be seeing many, if any at all). I appreciate the breath of fresh air. Really, Ramin Karimloo made Aamir Khan easier to love and it's such a nice transition...

Well done, Bollywood. Well done. *slow claps*



Ok, so part of it is also my hormones. And part of it is the fact that I can't get LesMisGuy out of my head. Which probably has a lot to do with my craving for romance. I don't take any of it back. 


[6:36am edit]
I couldn't stop there. Sorry, future me. I know we have a test tomorrow. And another on Wednesday. And on Saturday. And Tuesday after that. And.... I don't even know when the others are scheduled. It was absolutely post-worthy, though. Dil Chahta Hai was quite lovely. It has a very 90s feel to it, and I worry that perhaps I wouldn't have tried to fit so many stories into a single film, but I'm not sure separating them would have made them work individually without making them look silly. I certainly do believe Sid's story deserved... well, not more time, not more glory, I quite like it subdued... I... er... well, I would have considered making it a film all its own. I'm thinking twice about it now. This is truly a film for the hopeless romantic: one about how people love, touching on the subject of loving in hopelessly helpless silence (or lack thereof). I would have been tempted to say Deepa was such a pathetic character to include, but having Sid granted a whole new perspective on it. I love the fact that it dignifies the idea of unrequited love. It's a breath of fresh air. I'd never seen anything like it. It was beautiful.

Friday, 19 April 2013

At least as I remember him

My private pupils' dad died. It's not like I knew him all that well, and our families were not what you'd call close. At best he was an old acquaintance and the old man's coworker. It could be that he was one of the religious nuts who would fight gay marriage to the death. I'll never know... Nevertheless, I knew him as a kind, intelligent, admirable man and I am sad to hear cancer took the best of him. May he rest in peace. 

Because it makes me smile

It's not a completely innocent smile. This is the third time I watch 3 idiots. In one week. One week. (5 days 6 days, actually, which is to say I've spent 9 12 hours out of 120 144 watching 3 idiots). As soon as I was done reading the last of what goes into the exam I gave in to the movie... because singing "Zoobi Doobi" wasn't cutting it anymore. I started playing the song over and over. I looked up the lyrics. It's not like I understand any Hindi (though being able to see the similarities with Latin in the forms of "you," second person singular, "me"/"I," "what" and "why" is pretty awesome). But I'm getting the hang of the pronunciation and I already sort of know what the lyrics say so... Yeah, I can now sort of sing along to it. A completely pointless effort.

Unrelated, I don't know when I'll have the time or money to do so, but I intend to fully finish learning French and German. When I'm done, I have to add Russian, Mandarin, Hindi and Japanese to the list. Oh Dumbledore, how I envy you...

At any rate, I'm not completely sorry. Watching the film made me smile. Singing the song makes me smile. I'd rather crave something that makes me happy than indulge in misery. I'm proud of Yep2 for the awesomeness that is his job and the things he gets invited to and the people he gets to work with. I'm excited to see a band he knows personally performing here. I asked my sister and she's in. I couldn't help myself and told EBF... who read the message and promptly did nothing. Fuck it. I watched 3 idiots and it made me smile. My only complaint about the film is that the kiss in the end is less passionate than I would have hoped for. What's that about a kiss where he keeps his eyes open in stunned amazement and not only doesn't move his lips but keeps them tightly shut, eh? Oh! And his hands in his pockets! Not good for hopeless romantics, not good at all... 


PS: Where is SmTn? He said he'd write... I am disappoint...

Thursday, 18 April 2013

It would usually make me smile

Primo: why is it that these sits are always taken by religious fanatics? I sat in the air conditioning but wasn't near an output, so I changed seats. First time I sat in these seats some time ago a man warned me that others were headed here and the seats were pretty much taken. I sat anyway and minded my own business while they arrived and then left. This time it's just the two folks in front of me. And one of them, a guy, is clapping at the young woman he seems to have taken as an apprentice... oh dear...

Secundo: LGBTQ-and-what-have-you. 

I normally smile when I see the rainbow flag. The pride of fabulousness makes my heart happy. I'm overjoyed by the news of now legalised same-sex marriages in New Zealand and France. I was a bit more optimistic about how the debate would go back home but it's now looking bad in all the wrong ways. Even though they pulled him down and he was a joke not everyone would understand, a man spoke against gay marriage blaming homosexuality for anal cancer and AIDS. Another joke no one's laughing at is the old hag haunting the debate and everything she stands up for. It just saddens me. I want to be happy that they still have fiscal rights but it's so wrong for them to be considered second class humans like that... 

Which brings me to my second point. The rainbow flag usually makes me smile. Usually. I've been tempted (but afraid) to approach it before and offer to help the university group. I just can't think of what to say ("Hi, I'm straight but in love with fabulousness... would you be my friends?" wouldn't really cut it, would it?). Today I was tempted to give them a piece of my mind for some horribly misdirected campaign they had going on today. They set up a board and they sprayed over it with red paint "HATE WALL" on both sides. There were graffitied words all over it: "pig," "slut," "fag"... And the rainbow flag right next to it! A boy and a girl were offering passersby markers and asking if we'd like to contribute to the wall and raise awareness of bullying. I'm sorry. You want people to write horrible things on a wall of hate and that's supposed to somehow help who? Just reading the words made my heart sink and my stomach churn. I don't know who wrote those words. I don't really care. I know they are hurtful, misused and misguided when aimed at 99.99% of the population and I don't see how inviting people to use them somehow helps fight bullying. It's just all so wrong, you know? I want to be your friend and help you guys out and support your causes and fight bullying... but it won't be writing horrible things or inviting others to do so. 

Wednesday, 17 April 2013

"Cheap" is often just another way for "more expensive than you'd think"

Scheiße!

K is right when he asks how soon I plan to move out. I can't help but feel that what I told him is still too true: if staying here means my sister won't ever have to put up with the shit I have to put up with, that much better. Free tuition? Free housing? Free? Not at all! Not when you are stuck living with family. The latest edition of trouble chez les A comes in the form of BCM's husband's work around the house. No one can deny he did really well except for one point: he didn't talk about a quote with uncle A and is now charging 4 times as much as the last person who ever did anything around the house. Mind you, this other person worked pretty much alone, if anything at all with a young man who probably wasn't paid much, and did shoddy work that needed to be repaired otherwise. BCM's husband probably went a little overboard doing more than was absolutely necessary going for a wow factor but didn't count on uncle A's stinginess/conspiracy theories about how everyone's out to steal his money. The end result? Aunt A crying on the phone talking to cousin S (and anyone who will listen) about the damned tragedy this all is. And me going a little hungry because I don't dare venture into the kitchen until the coast is clear, but we can overlook that, in the greater scheme of things. Message of the day being that "cheap" is a relative term and does not mean the same thing to everyone.

A geek!

The girl in a table near where I'm sitting has the Star Wars opening Empire (what can I say? I've never seen the films. I'm a bad geek) theme song as her phone call ringtone and Sheldon saying "Bazinga!" as her ringtone for messages.

WIN.



The simple life

Not to be confused for the sheltered life.

I'm sitting outside because the weather is lovely. It's sunny and just the right amount of warm (which is reasonably cool) for the clothes I chose to wear today (shorts). In the distance, ruining it, I can hear the beat of electronic music playing in the distance designed to lure students into... whatever they have going on over there, I suppose. Over that, over here, there's the rustle of leaves and the sound of... are they crickets? They don't quite sound like crickets, but I'm positive it's an insect. It's actually he exact same sound that can be heard in Rurouni Kenshin when it's hot out and they're sitting, some of them fan in hand, and just contemplating (or sleeping). I suppose it's not unique to Rurouni Kenshin and actually applies to just about every Japanese anime that has people out in a dojo during summer. Wikipedia calls "cicada," so that's what I'm going with.

Anyway, my point is... well, I was wondering about sedentarism the sedentary lifestyle (really, English? that's not a word? Oh... sedentism). In particular, I was thinking of the relative pointlessness of it.  

Parenthèse: I have a yearning for romance, it occurs to me. It explains why I can't get the zoobi-doobi zoobi-doobi pum para... zoobi-doobi param pum out of my head.




Sedentism... pointlessness... The whole point of sedentism is doing things effectively so that you have time to spare and think and develop new ways to do more things effectively. Oh, also, society. Time to spare means time to interact and time to build relationships beyond "Let's help one another stay alive another day, why don't we?". Sedentism means having time to do things you don't absolutely have to, preferably because they're enjoyable.

Well... then why the is the less advanced form of sedentism in the form of not having to worry about a degree, or a job, or taxes so appealing? Back then (for all practical purposes let's assume an eighteenth century lifestyle) all they had to do was work (on whatever they had been assigned), make it through the day and rest whenever possible? I don't underestimate how hard the work was, but I'd like to point out it was much more directly linked to how you were going to survive for another day. Modern day society has traded that for shorter hours of meaningless work so that we may spend more time doing nothing terribly important (at least if we make sweeping generalisations) knowing that a salary is due in regular intervals of time. One way to measure the future success of a child is to offer it one cookie immediately or two some time later. The child who chooses the two cookies gets more and is more likely to get ahead in life, working longer before seeing any rewards to reap a greater benefit.

Parenthèse: Why am I so uncomfortable leaning forward on a chair? I always try to lean back into laying down position but can't quite get there, lean forward again and don't know what to do with my legs or why they built these chairs in front of the table rather than underneath them (as you'd sit on a regular chair at a desk).

On the one hand the second child gets two cookies while, on the other, the first child gets an immediate gratification. I think it's the immediate gratification that seems so tempting. If only we didn't have to do all of this waiting in the form of meaningless work, we could get to the right now (or see-how-you-get-them) rewards. I know, I know... if it weren't for the people who waited there would be no such thing as science but I want to offer a midpoint: to the truly brilliant mind that pulls ahead of society the meaningless work is not meaningless work: it is in itself a reward. The same cannot be said of the woman who cleans restrooms for a living, the waiter at a restaurant or a construction worker. And what of the rich and stupidly wealthy? Do you suppose politicians, bankers or celebrities like what they do nearly as much as they do the money and recognition that comes from it?

Sorry, my mind is not quite with me today/right now. I may continue this some other time. I may not.

Parenthèse: I suddenly went into looking at references for the first sin and got to wondering... if nudity used to not be embarrassing and I understand that eating this forbidden fruit = having sex... isn't the true crime against humanity making us ashamed of sex?

Tuesday, 16 April 2013

It's not that I have no shame

In fact I am so ashamed I can't stand myself. Want to know why? I misunderstood a professor telling us to come to his office if something was wrong with our exam grades. Nothing was wrong with mine beyond my stupidity but since all I heard was "come to my office, there's something not quite right about the grades" I went there anyway. On my way there I saw Pf1 and attempted to hide from him, as if he hadn't noticed me (he had), going into the next corridor I could find. After my errand was done, I actually hid in a bathroom for a good 5-10min, as if that would somehow ensure I didn't run into Pf1 again. The damage was already done! I didn't answer his e-mail until today at 6:30pm or so after asking for cousin S's help (again). When we initially got here the power was actually out so it was lucky I got to send anything in the first place... I already feel miserable about it and don't want to hear back from him. Or from Pf2, for that matter. Or anyone at all!!*

*Except SmTn, of course. 

Adding to the no shame component, I watched 3 idiots again in celebration of the fact that I thought I had a final exam tomorrow and I actually don't. Because, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm an idiot.

And yes, there's a little irony in my choice of film.

[day after edit, 2:13pm]
Pf1 wrote back. I've known since 11:30am, I just haven't had the heart to open his e-mail.

Career vs. Job

I had a dream last night about Pf1. He was giving me instructions for a surgical procedure to be done on my little one (who was at times an oversized lab mouse). She was sick in my dream and I was supposed to make her better with this procedure, but the thought of cutting into her was killing me, so all I did was prep her and postpone talking to Pf1 until the next day.

I'm afraid I must e-mail Pf1 today and I just don't know what on Earth to say. It feels like any thing I say will be the wrong thing. Anything I do will be the wrong thing to do. 

And this, dear children, is what happens when you say yes to an offer you can't refuse and get stuck on the path of getting a job rather than a career.

Monday, 15 April 2013

Not proud of myself

Not one bit. There's a number of reasons. The smaller ones begin with having spent almost three hours watching 3 idiots and not having studied today, even though I promised myself last night that I would. Instead, I watched yesterday's episode of The Mentalist because I'm hopeless. During class when I wasn't paying attention I looked up useless information rather than read something useful or even pay attention. It was so that I missed the jokes during class. Then there's the daydream I got myself caught up in during the bus trip. It started not-so-innocently with thoughts of being with SmTn and him moving here to be with me. It evolved into a crazy scenario where I stood up for someone being beat up and SmTn stood up for me when things got out of hand. I have absolutely no idea where that came from. It adds to another reason to not be proud of myself, though. 

I have to take two buses to get to university. As I walked from one to the bus stop of the other I noticed an old woman sitting on the far side of the bus stop. I make a point out of not paying too much attention to the people I see at the bus station, so I tried to make myself busy. Even though the old woman started moaning. I thought about asking her what was wrong but decided against it and it's not the thought that counts but the fact that I did fucking nothing. I told myself that if she was on the phone with someone it was probably just complaining about something tragic and not physical pain. By then two girls were sitting in the bus stop with me, one of them on the phone. When the old lady dropped her phone, this second girl ended the call and asked if there was anything she could do to help. She ended up calling an emergency service (all I could gather is that the old woman's hands/fingers were hurting a lot and she did not understand why, though I noticed a surgical mask on her... which admittedly needed not have anything to do with it). It was all I could do to ask this girl if she wanted the bus to wait for her when it arrived and to attempt to explain her situation to the bus driver (which made me feel very foolish). 

Went into class feeling bad about myself, left the class feeling bad about myself. Then, around 9pm, I got an e-mail from Pf1 and my heart sank. He'd like to hear from me because he hasn't seen me in weeks. He's absolutely right and I feel horrible. Worse still, I haven't written back. I was waiting to meet with Pf2 to make sure he's OK with me volunteering for Pf1 but that was put off all of last week and I still haven't met with him. In fact, I haven't sent him an e-mail asking when we should meet. It feels more and more like any choice is the wrong one.

As if it were a cure to anything, I keep hoping to find an e-mail from SmTn because he said he'd write and then I feel stupid for waiting for his e-mail. I think the only highlights of my day are the now nice temperature in the house which actually permits sleep and the fact that the nice woman with the lovely smile got on the bus today. 

I'm afraid a proper review of 3 idiots is still pending.

Random observation of the day: I felt observed, both by a cute guy in class I held the door for on my way out and another guy (who I incidentally held another door for later) who actually glanced my way again a couple of times making sure to walk close enough to me. Me no likey, though I appreciated a nice glimpse of the cute guy's blue eyes. He has such lovely eyes and such a sweet, timid Donnie Darko air about him...

Competititve sliding

Had a dream about SmTn. He travelled to see me (except I wasn't here). We were someplace filled with my fellow maths students. I remember CtW and NtP among them. There were swimming pools and water slides. I was in my underwear and had nothing but a pair of knickers with a hole in them (which I was anxious to change for another pair), a bra, and an old grey t-shirt. At least part of the water was actually a river in the mountains, as I remember being on a sort of boat with SmTn. It was near a small town and when it was almost completely silent you could hear a man selling something to the top of his voice. I liked the calm and quiet part, but SmTn wanted some speed and excitement, so we moved full speed ahead after that. This part of the river had very tall, steep mountain walls around it, so it was quite isolated. I'm not sure if this river is the one that led to a water slide, but there was a water slide where at the bottom a machine registered your speed and the time it took you to get down, giving you stars for your progress. SmTn wanted to get at least a star but you had to get down in 16s or less. I remember doing the math in my head: you can't move much faster if you lean forward, let gravity do its work trying not to sway too much along the way. I realise now that weight might hold you back significantly, friction being non-negligible and proportional to the normal force and all.  

At a given point, when I was in my underwear, we were on a rooftop with plenty of swimming pools. When I made up my mind to finally change, I went into a room where CtW rested and NtP took a nap. NtP woke up just as I was done changing. I met SmTn outside again. My aunt LM had called and we had wanted to meet but couldn't quite arrange for it. I ended up forgetting to call her to let her know when she could come and then there was just no time. N1 was there too, because I remember her talking to SmTn and calling him by the wrong name, swapping the third letter in his name. She teased him. He was a good sport about the whole thing but I could tell he was waiting for some alone time with me. By the time it came it was almost time for him to go. Nothing happened.

I did get time to talk to aunt LM and tell her to expect the package with Yep2's birthday present. She told me it had already arrived (I sent it on Friday, she said it had arrived on Monday, i.e. today). I was impressed.

[9:18pm edit]

I spoke with aunt LM on the phone. The package did, indeed arrive today. 

Bollywood, it's nice to finally meet you

What a splendid introduction to Bollywood! I just finished watching 3 idiots. Details later, because I have a killer headache. Suffice it to say I really liked all almost three hours of it.

[April 16th edit]

So... 3 idiots had quite a lot to offer. It's a dramedy (and the drama is more than I've seen touched upon in most films I've seen: it's not like every comedy includes 3 suicides) with winks at soap opera, some mockery of film romance and an over-the-top musical component. It should be a recipe for disaster, especially since it also has a moral, but it somehow works. The funny parts are funny, the sad parts are sad, the message is clear and pleasant to hear and the music is catchy. It's a film I'd watch again and I've been tempted to do so before I'm done with exams, which is not a good idea but should hint at how much I liked the movie. 

[Wednesday afternoon edit]
You know what? I'm just going to come out and say it: Aamir Khan is my new celebrity crush.

Sunday, 14 April 2013

Dear blog, K is being nosy

It's not that it's unexpected, and I started the conversation in the first place out of boredom, but we were talking about birthday presents and next thing I know he's brought up the subject of relationships and is asking if I have a boyfriend. I said no and he asked if I'd been in a relationship. I said "not really" (well, not really, I very briefly went over having had a boyfriend 7+ years ago but it not being very serious). I mentioned (because... well, I don't know why, to be honest, to make it look like I'm less of a love failure?) the last time I was close to being in a relationship of sorts was about 2 years ago but it failed spectacularly. He asked, so I told him about LesMisGuy. It felt like the "normal" thing to do would be to ask about him, so I asked "how about you?" and he told me he had a girlfriend for 2 years 4 years ago. I didn't really want to know more, but after telling him my story I was out of a conversation topic so I asked how come he hasn't had anyone in 4 years and I'm already feeling stupid because I didn't think to say "if you don't mind me asking" or change the subject already. 

It's not that I mind telling him, though it still hurts a bit to remember LesMisGuy I can tell the story with a straight-ish face. It's that I don't know how to handle such conversations. Where are they supposed to lead? What am I supposed to say? I can't help but overthink everything and worry that anything I say will mean more than I intend it to. I asked and he answered, he hasn't found anyone yet. He asked me back. After not etting a quick enough answer from A (not that any advice from her could help much) I answered the same thing "not yet." I worry that's supposed to somehow allude to him or not, but perhaps yes and I just don't know! Like I said, I can't quite have these conversations like a normal person would. How does a normal person have such conversations?

When do I plan to get married? Nosy, much? Never (unless I could marry SmTn, which we all know I won't). Does he want to know that?

Oh, his parents expect him to marry in two years' time. Awesome.

Wait, there's more. He wants to know my views on premarital sex. That's... I don't know what to make of it. He has 2 years to find the girl he's going to marry and he wants to shag me in the meantime? 

Heartbreak in the middle of the night

Had a dream inside a dream. I remember writing about one in the other, so I might as well again, right?

I had a dream that cousin I arrived quite unexpectedly and in the middle of the night. There was a small commotion, but no one thought to tell me about it, so I listened and pretended to be asleep until the next morning. The next morning cousin I was in his room, curled up into foetal position, crying his soul out. Everyone else was standing nearby. When I tried to discreetly ask what was wrong it was him who answered: "my lover left me." It seemed like an overly careful choice of words, where I knew, but no one else did, that he meant a man even though he made vague allusions to a "she."

It's. too. bloody. hot

I can't sleep. I cant. fucking. sleep. I kept bringing cold glasses of ice-cold water into the room and drinking them. Aunt A asked if something was wrong with me, because why the fuck else would someone drink so much cold water? I cannot. fucking sleep. Have I mentioned that? I just tried an internet search for what to do when it's too hot out to sleep and all suggestionis say "well, make it colder." And that's the one thing I can't do! I actually put a few ice cubes on my bed but they have already melted and evaporated completely. Bringing a glass full of ice and water into my room won't change the room temperature by any more than 0.2ºC. And I just can't sleep and can't stop thinking how miserable it makes me feel. So much so I'm actually crying in frustration. 

First world problems, right? Well, it's more than just that. It's not that we have perfectly functioning air conditioning I have zero control over because aunt A tries to intimidate me out of lowering the temperature saying everything's too fucking cold for her all the time and implying I must want to kill her of hypothermia if I think otherwise and the problem is with me. Except, most people need a much cooler temperature to sleep (16-22ºC, next to the 26-27ºC we're at right now). In fact, while one article says "you'll just get used to it after a few restless nights it" it also points out "but there's only so much heat you can get used to and anything above 26ºC will be too much for most people." It's the fact that being me is fucking forbidden. 

Like happy music? Too fucking bad, we have to listen to fucking tragedies when we're on the car and any time at all because aunt A won't bother asking or keeping whatever radio station I leave on when I'm perchance alone like it's hurting her ears. Like cooler temperatures? Too fucking bad, they like it to be hot inside the house. Like dresses? Too fucking bad, aunt A believes I will be raped and killed for wearing them in public. Want to watch a film? Aunt A's there, she doesn't want to watch it because she's seen fucking everything and will sleep through anything else because what. the. fuck. gives. but otherwise, why am I so fucking ungrateful for an expensive gift I didn't ask for and have little to no use for? Like to stay in your fucking room minding your own fucking business? Too bad, aunt A thinks you're too cold and it's fucking hurting her fucking feelings. Think you can have some time for yourself in your fucking room? Aunt A would like to pick a fight with you now. Like a certain kind of food? It will fucking kill me for reasons unknown to aunt A and I can't have it without her yelling at me first. Want to take a pill you know will work to alleviate crippling menstrual cramps? Aunt A thinks they're fucking going to kill me, so I'm to take whatever leftover medicines she says to. Like to recycle? Too bad, I must be trying to get them sued for lots of money because I just don't appreciate what they do for me around these parts. Like independence? Say goodbye to it because it will be hell to do anything your way 'round these parts and the few times you manage you'll have aunt A talking "behind your back" through paper think walls. What if mum tries to intervene? Aunt A will bully her! Want to sleep? Too fucking bad. Aunt A would have to wear a sweater at the temperatures that allow it.

Saturday, 13 April 2013

Zombies (I'm a little surprised they hadn't shown up yet)

I don't even watch such shows but I had a dream about zombies last night. As in, I walked in and just as I was about to close the door behind me I notice zombies outside. I don't like gore. Fortunately, after the first scare, one of the zombies turned out to be a friendly Bruce Willis who was just trying to help out.

Thursday, 11 April 2013

Maths!

A package arrived in the mail from me. Aunt A thought it might be related to Pf2. Boy was she mistaken. It was something actually exciting. So very. SmTn sent me a copy of his doctoral thesis. I don't suppose I'll understand any of it and to be honest I can't even say if I'll read it, but it just made me so. fucking. happy I thought I'd put it in the blog somewhere.

[8:57pm edit]
There's a dedication! He actually wrote a little message on the back of the front cover for me telling me I brighten his days!

:)

A beauty and ghosts

I had a dream last night... well... several dreams. In one I saw Amanda Seyfried vey close up and she was beautiful, but I noticed tiny icepick scars and felt better knowing you can be beautiful eve if you have acne scars.

In another dream I was at a haunted museum/shop honouring the Holocaust. It was made out of the things people had around them during the war and there were beds, toys, bits of rubbish. I know it was haunted because I could imagine the ghosts watching, making sure no one made light of their last living moments.

Wednesday, 10 April 2013

Can't I have one without the other?

A nice lady sat next to me on the bus. She smelled nice and had a lovely smile. Someone offered an overweight woman her seat, she refused it nicely. An old woman forgot her shopping bags and someone reminded her before she got off. Such things make me smile and make me like public transportation. I insist: even if I could drive to university, I would still 9 times out of 10 take the bus. It reminds me of human kindness, it gives me time to think and contemplate and rest my eyes, it gives me reasons to smile.

Quite the change when aunt A came to pick me up. She was furious at some woman she doesn't know for reasons I won't go into (but can promise don't merit such fury). *sigh* Now, this morning BCM's husband came around to help fix a number of things around the house. Since the thermostat setting was set to a quite high temperature and I knew they'd be working a sweat, I advised him on how to lower the temperature, at least while aunt A was away. When we got back and I noticed the setting was lower than it used to be (i.e. too cold for aunt A). As soon as I started messing with it aunt A came to tell me BCM's husband had fixed it and set it and it was not to be moved, so I moved it back to where it was (which is a  much more comfortable temperature for me anyway). I just noticed it had gone up again, and put it back down because that's the way it's supposed to be per her own last instructions. So fuck it. What upsets me is a running theme I've only just put together. She believes me to be stupid to the point of helplessness. I can work the thermostat, she doesn't need to tell me someone else "fixed it" and it must stay as someone else put it. I can explain things to her once but she won't believe it until someone like cousin S or uncle A gives her the exact same information. It's not just that independence (at least mine) is frowned upon. It's that I'm considered completely unable to attain it and unworthy of it because I'm too bloody thick to be functional by their terms. Well, fuck.


PS: Yes, that's a new label you see there. I'd like to go back over all old posts and apply it where appropriate but I just can't be bothered. I'd actually have to read through them all.

[11:36pm]
GAAAAaaaAAaHHGAAGHHwwHWWwhsAAAGAAAAAaAgggAAAaGAAAAaaaAAaHHGAAGHHwwHWWwhsAAAGAAAAAaAgggAAAaGAAAAaaaAAaHHGAAGHHwwHWWwhsAAAGAAAAAaAgggAAAaGAAAAaaaAAaHHGAAGHHwwHWWwhsAAAGAAAAAaAgggAAAaaaaaAAaAHHHhhh!!!

That is all.

Dear blog, I have some gossip for you

It really is just that, I'm afraid, and I would know it's none of my business in any way... but, SmTn's look alike and his girlfriend broke up. Well, she broke it off with him, actually, for reasons I can't quite understand and couldn't eavesdrop properly (it just so happens she walked out with a friend behind me and was talking about the whole thing so I conveniently made sure not to walk too quickly). It all goes to show I was right when I thought to myself "one day he'll tease her and it won't be funny anymore" regarding the impertinence of that horrid professor. Even with her nervous laughter he couldn't quite leave her alone and back off... 

Tuesday, 9 April 2013

Dogs are like children to me... except I like dogs better

I had a dream last night where I could communicate (or at least understand) a dog. It looked like it could have been little too, all I know is that she was a she and that she was quite small. She was upset because someone (a woman) had come to "evaluate" her and hadn't asked if she was a good girl/who was a good girl, somehow implying that she hadn't behaved her very best even though she absolutely had. The poor dear...


On an unrelated note, oh goodness, is engineering a wretchedly mediocre field.


Also unrelated, I received a postcard from SmTn. He sent me sweaty hugs from his tropical getaway. I must say they were minimally awkward to accept.

Monday, 8 April 2013

Friends, videogames and a complex

I had a dream last night where I sat on a table with SmTn and girlfriend (and others, presumably). In the dream I remembered the girlfriend from my dreams and found it odd to see her as I did: older, not quite so pretty, not quite as bubbly (as, say, in the engagement dream). Come to think of it, with the short (ear length) hair and matronly attitude... it might as well have been SmTn's mother.

In another dream Chandler and Rachel (from Friends) were together and I can't remember if I was one, the other or neither.

There's yet another dream... well, I can't quite find the backstory for this one. I know I had to get places, one of them a bus. I know I ended up in a Disney-like (just as pretty, just as fake) place designed for a princess to come out of (a balcony that led to vehicles you could get on). It was near the sea and I had to get to a bar and grill restaurant. Before that there was a bit where I got together with some guys (from school? university? I couldn't say). I went to the house of one of them, not expecting to find a lot of other people there. They had gathered to play videogames and looked like your stereotypical 80s-90s nerd.

Sunday, 7 April 2013

Fine, I'll write the post

Had a few dreams I sort of wanted to write down and then was too lazy to. One of them involved uncle A wanting to marry me. Creeeeeepyyyyy. There was at least one more dream I half remembered but now it turns out I don't remember anything more.

The whole reason I started this post is that, out of the blue, EBF asked if he can come and stay here in June. Uh. fucking. huh.

[6:26pm edit]
Would have been 1:25pm but we left to meet BCM and family for lunch, so...

I worried that facebook knows and facebook told him: I read. I read his message and went without answering for how long now? The obvious thing to say is "when are you coming?" so, as soon as I'm done writing this, I had better ask just that, hadn't I?

[day after edit, 1:00pm]
Mother. Fucker. EBF answered this morning, he wouldn't have to stay in a couch. He has no definite plans. After asking how everything is going, he pushes the fucking con. He tells me N2 is in on it. Would mum be interested? I said "still a no" and almost followed with a ", sorry" but I'm not sorry. Fuck him with a thousand dicks, like they say. Fuck him. NO. Don't try to schedule a fucking appointment to see if she'd be interested. You will not. fucking. scam. my. mum. 

Friday, 5 April 2013

As if I were making up for the dreams I didn't have

I had several dreams last night, some of them nested.

I know some were nested because I remember being at a reunion with my parents and A's and telling about the dream, with mum trying to find great meaning in them. I didn't want her to. The dream she wanted to find meaning in involved fictitious members of A's family, cousins of hers. Someone looked like the tall awkward guy from Whose line is it anyway? except he had darker hair. This man had been in some sort of festival in my dream, which coincided with him being in one in  "real life" (the second dream). 

In one of the dreams, a girl confronted a grown man reciting what sounded like a confession of him having abused the girl's sister. 

In another dream the old man confessed that when he was little he formed teams with girls because they'd call him by name rather than call him fat.

In yet another dream I was with LesMisGuy. There were other people (most likely from university and school, friends of his), but we got some time relatively alone. He had what I can only describe as branches from plants like rosemary, except the leaves were tightly shut on one of the branches, coming out of his head (like hair, perhaps?). He told me (or perhaps told someone else in confession in such a way that I was able to hear) that for three years until now he had been silent. That he had not said a word. This was somehow related to the unopen branch, which I gently opened as I wrapped my arms around him. Silly as it sounds, this silence of his, and the unopened branch, seemed to indicate some sort of virginity he was ashamed of but had now lost. I want to believe it had something to do with me but I think there must be more reasonable explanations.

There was also a dream with aunt MT where others and I joined her at the shop around Halloween (I could tell because of the colours on the showcase, except she oddly enough had women's clothes too). I'm not sure if this was connected to a dream where I was in a shop (this time one that included groceries) with A's mum and others, packing gifts ordered by a rich relative of A's. 

Thursday, 4 April 2013

What will it be?

One of them big decisions again. This one I can see coming and I have time to mull over... well, sort of. I really should have an answer by tomorrow and I don't quite have all the information ready just yet. Not to mention, it just might be that I won't qualify for either option... 

I wish I could talk to SmTn. He'd have words of encouragement and the perspective I don't have any access to at the moment. I have input from both cousin S and BCN. Somewhat contradictory, in that they both hint at similar things for very different reasons.

I should probably explain myself. Cousin S was very nice and tried asking around for people he knew who might be able to offer me a job, which led to talks with Pf1 and Pf2. Pf1, though he makes me grimace sometimes (what with the pronounced v neck shirts, and spitting on a piece of tissue to clean a laptop's screen) looks like the nicer of the two. Pf2 is very to the point, fast-paced, and has a sumbitch air about him. Pf1 is waiting for funds but is actively thinking of several things I might be able to help him with. Pf2 has funds... which don't apply to me, but he can offer me a job which he said he though paid very handsomely (after looking around a bit... it probably only pays half as handsomely, if that). So,

  • point to Pf1 for being nice and easy-going, for going out of his way to inquire about my admission
  • point taken from Pf1 because it's not very certain he can give me a position 
  • point to Pf1 for having mildly interesting research topics that in my mind can be turned into a maths project
  • point to Pf2 for being high up in the hierarchy that a few e-mails from him can guarantee my admission into the programme 
  • point taken from Pf2 because I don't know if he's giving me the position but he lied about it 
  • point to Pf2 for having research topics that get funded
Cousin S told me to follow my heart (Pf1), but we ended up agreeing that working with Pf2 is just more convenient and I could volunteer for Pf1 if I had the time. BCN was to the point telling me I needed not bother with niceties, that I should go for the sure thing and it's just too damned bad it's boring.

To me, it feels like any choice I make could/will be the wrong one. It just might be that working with Pf2 will be a nightmare. Cousin S may say he's nice, but Pf2 called another professor nice whom I found to be far from amiable. It just might be that the pay is actually a lot less (less than half what he said). It could be the case that I blow off Pf2 to go for Pf1 and he won't have a position for me. It could be that I'll try to be of help to Pf1 and find there's absolutely nothing of interest for me there. It's not outside the realm of possibility that I will not be a good candidate for either if I don't get better grades in what is left of the semester and I have to admit I have been going to class only to stare blankly (if not to entertain myself with something completely unrelated to the class and utterly useless).

In any case, I am already playing a game of "who do you know up the ladder?" that I don't like one bit. Moreover, something tells me the true wrong decision was taken long ago and there's no way to back out of it.

Where are you, dear SmTn?



PS: I can't help but find it's a bit strange I should have had that dream about LC5 and BCN should come to visit. I had no way of knowing he'd be here until yesterday around 6pm. Isn't it odd?

PPS: I attended the practice session for tango on Tuesday. I made a fool of myself in front of the sweet physicist guy and spent most of the time (and I do mean 75% of it, at least) with K's fellow countryman. I made a fool of myself, period. I can't stand myself.


[9:18am edit, the next day]
Woke up early-ish to find cousin S helped me edit the e-mails I meant to send and I sent the one to Pf2. Then I wrote the dream post. Then I went to the bathroom. While I was in the bathroom I overheard aunt A talking shit about me about how she'd handle this whole Pf1-Pf2 thing and how I don't show interest and...AaAaAaarrRrrrgGggHHhhHH!!!! When I got out of the bathroom I noticed her in front of me and so I greeted her a good morning. She probably attempted to save face asking how everything was going with Pf1 and Pf2. I would blow a raspberry, a very loud one, if I knew how to with words alone.

[10:54am edit]
What do you know? I'm not done ranting yet! The old man spoke with aunt A a while ago (aunt A tells me). He told her about the prices we've been looking at for a part of my sister's stay here. Aunt A had to get mad about something, so she bloody got mad. Why haven't I told cousin S? She just spoke with him and he told her he'd talked to me about going on this trip with my sister, why am I leaving him out and trying to be independent and be a horrible person? I spoke with cousin S about going there, we didn't talk about how many days we'd go or what we'd do when we get there, so when I looked up the prices I relayed to the old man I did not assume we'd have transportation.  I would have to talk to cousin S, yes, to see if he and his girlfriend would be interested in the sort of thing I've looked into and if they'd be willing to drive us there. Oh, but more has to be wrong. It must be the case that we're being scammed and that I'm bloody stupid because aunt A can't believe the prices. I tell her it's a package and I explain how prices go down per day if you go for more than one day. She's still mad and tries to act offended and hurt and tells me "I'll see" so I tell her I'll talk to cousin S, which was in my plans all fucking along. Why must she be so bloody difficult? Why?

[11:15am edit]
Clearly not fucking done yet. She comes in again, asks me if I've planned correctly, have I taken into account how much it will cost to move around there? Oh, I didn't include other things? Don't we want to do other things? Why am I mad at her? She can tell because of the way I answer and look at her that I'm mad at her and it's all I can do not to blow up so I tell her she's here questioning everything about the things we've planned and I tell her these are just the prices I've found online through what I have to assume are respectable sources (official ones). She's now assuming I'm not going with cousin S and my sister and I will be alone and stranded and everything. is. a. deity. damned. tragedy. "Don't get mad at me, I'm just trying to make sure everything will come out all right" reads an awful lot like "You're doing it all wrong because you didn't ask me or cousin S to do it for you!" and fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck if it doesn't piss me off.  

[1:13pm edit]
Wait for it... I walk to the kitchen to fix myself some lunch and aunt A and uncle A are talking. Well, aunt A is talking, telling uncle A all about how stupid my plans are and she suddenly (and she'd like to think subtly) shuts up as I greet uncle A and go about my business cooking myself lunch. She changed the subject and after a while they both just stayed silent. I debated with myself on the faster way to finish cooking what I wanted and get the hell out all the while thinking "Now, aunt A. Now that I'm leaving you may resume talking behind my back like the class fucking act that you are."