Can't sleep, so I'll make a confession. I just hope that the right people will read it, and that I won't be felt sorry for. I hate when people feel sorry. It never is any comfort.

So. Yes. I have a bunch of psychological problems. I most probably would need a psychiatrist to prod at me and my family relationships, but because my family would say: "but what yould people think?", I am in no position to do so, and... to be honest, I just want to forget it. Guess in a way it all started to rot.

Confession time. I am in a serious need of love. Not kidding, actually. I was born, because my parents were expected to have a child. So I was tolerated, something to have, like a furniture. I was a child, who wept all the time, and mostly got ignored. My mother went mad when I was 3 years old and she never sought cure. She is doing much better now, by the way.
I was taken care of, most of the time, by my snobbish grandmother, who never loved a soul besides herself. She is still babied by my gradfather, and I was thrown there to please her, to keep my parents out of her reach, and so I won't be in the way. There I learnt how to be snobbish, how to be a dreamer, and how to be passive agressive.
During that time, till I got 14, whenever I was with my parents, I was hit (by my mother), and told how useless, hateful, ugly and utterly disappointing I was. My needs of course were taken care of. I have a room (6 quadratmeters, no door, people always walk in and out, but I am fine, I have it), I have many books, mostly schoolbooks, and sometimes I was given a pet, of which I had to take care of and was constantly threatened of it being killed, if I was a "bad girl". Given, that I was never good enough, I was in constant fear for the one thing I loved.
What more? Oh yes. Tried to commit suicide at age 16 then 17, and I still have a few cuts and scars on my arm... not too deep tho, because it hurt, and I still hate pain.
Then we had to sit down and talk. I was a bad girl, I was insane, I was called every bad thing imaginable... sans a slut, because I had less bfs that I should have. I was... an utter disappointment. I know I am, still feel like it. Can't deny it, because I am one. I'm not sane, anyway.
I survived, because I held on to my 18th birtday. I planned on jumping down from some high building, but I felt so good on that day, that I didn't. I still feel like I'm living on borrowed time. I still do cut my wrists sometime, when I feel down. Sick, isn't it? It is, by the way.
Then I got to uni, and I saw my parents less. Oh, I nearly forgot. Till uni, it was forbidden for me to be out on weekdays, so getting friends, which never was easy for me, became almost impossible. I just couldn't connect to people. My inferiority complex still scares people.
The only thing that changed now is that I studied psychology, and I know that there is no cure for my problems. I'm sick, and I will so till I die. I could get better, I did, but I won't be completely sane.
I still feel inferior to many people, and feel very superior to stupid people. I lie, I cheat and I'm kind of ruthless, and every time I do so, I feel like an utter bastard, and a worthless being. Not to mention, that I worry about everything. Saying anything makes me worried, that poeple will see how worthless I really am. Every time I hurt someone I want to crawl into a hole, curl up and suffer, till they get better.
So I tried to alter my personality through hard work: someone who does not care, who lies as easily as if she is telling the truth, someone who does not need anybody (still working on that part), who reads people best (I do read people quite well), and who can respond to everyone with a kind of personality they like, or makes them feel inferior. I created a ruthless personality which would hide that I'm a useless disappointment, and I would very much keep it at that, so I would ask every friend of mine to just shut it and leave me alone.
And I was doing so well there. I will have to restart all of it again. It's only that much damage I can take without a nervous breakdown. So if you read it... just stop talking to me. If you do not, I will lash out, as a protective mechanism I tried to supress... without much luck. Not to mention that now I lash out at anyone, even those who do did not hurt me... because I'm scared.

So keep away. I will get better again soon. Just act as if you've never read this, and leave me alone. I really don't want to go suicidal again, as I am fighting for my last piece of sanity I still have.
Keep away, leave me alone, and never give me pity. I cannot use that, and it sickens me. I'm not gonna take it.
And I hate you all for forcing this out of me.

So much for keeping my dignity.

Well, this is is as good of a time as any other to decide to grow up.
I mean sitting at home most of the time, reading, writing, playing games, this is not considered a mature life... Well, the reading and writing maybe, but I should just go and... well, meet people and other thingies. Looking for a job wouldn't be a bad idea either.

I'll go, join a bellydancing course, which will most probably be much fun. I'll look into that job in Ireland, and of course I could go and... be nicer. Yuck.

I just don't see the use of being all nice, and be someone who is way better than I would ever be. That's cheating, and if I find a boyfriend (ye gods, yuck) that way, it would be very stressful. Just like nearly all the time. It's no use telling them that I'm not a nice person, that I'm pessimistic, and... I'm whiney. Nobody believes it, befriends me, and then I get blamed. Predictable.

Anyway. Exams. Then... who knows. Of course I will miss my friends who I've met thanks to gw, but if someone really misses me, they will find a way to contact me. *Shrug.*

If anyone knows about some low maintenance guy, who actually does not expect me to be nice, well, tell me. Any stuck up, immature British kids excluded. I'm not in the mood to pick up trash.

I left the guild today. I only stayed there because I was afraid of the silence... and I liked some of the people. Quite sad.

I already miss them. I cried a bit too. I'm so stupid. Still, I have my pride. I had to do it.
Sniffle. Hope that everything turns out all right, whatever happens.

Time moves and I didn't have any... well... motives to write. Anything.

I passed my teaching practice examination. I got a 3, and am happy with it.
I even survived the X-mas tradition in my family, which is, that all kind of family members are let in into the same room and they start screaming each other's heads off. Fun, really.

Honestly, I'm a bit better, seeing that I didn't have any peace and quiet for months. Not to mention any kind of little breathers. Currently I'm trying to clear my mind. I'm just waking up on the idea, that friends can't be trusted with anything either.
I did know it, I mean I am a pessimistic person, but I always forget...
Well, I woke up. Didn't really shake me that hard, I am used to friends disappointing me when I count on them. Not to mention that I have something better. I just have to warm up to the idea again.
While I had my little teaching practice, I couldn't concentrate on anything else, and that parts of my brain were firmly shut... I'm so proud of myself... I can learn to shut it out.
Still, now I'll have to get used to the idea again, unless I want to end up as a skyzophrenic... quite possibly mad. It would be so funny if I got scared of every shadow. Or maybe not. ^^
Well, I have got a bunch of candle holders, and a lot of candles too, so I can organize a party. Maybe I'll even have some time to look into a few informative books about vodou. If I find some valid ones, not that stupid new age mumbo-jumbo. It makes me sick just to think of them.
If I wanted some mystic smoke, herbs, goddesses and nightresses for treehugging... well, I would chose to accept them. Thing is, I want to read things as they were. Nothing mystic about a religion...
I just want to know, how they did it, and what they did really.
And then... I will alter my views of things accordingly.

In the middle of the night here I am, sitting, staring out the open window, listening to the falling rain and breathing the nice, clear, fresh air. That's what I call romantic. The sky is a reddish color, as it is usually nowadays, it is silent, only the rain sounds can be heard... and I sometimes stare at the glowing streetlamps, and their pretty aura that gleams off of the bared trees. Oh yes, bloody romantic all right. And I'll catch a cold soon if I don't close the window, so I do. With a sad look, if I might add. I like the smell of the crisp winter air. Too bad it's cold.

Ok, all closed and fresh aired in the room. Happy very much. Still, I must admit, when the rain or snow falls in winter, I usually sleep without and kind of things blocking my view: just the clear glass between me and the outside. And I lay down to sleep like a capital L, so that I can stare out of the window before I go to sleep. And I can see the rainy reddish sky or the grey snowy sky. Both of them are pretty.

7 down, 8 to go!

I see the end of the tunnel! Let's just hope it's not a truck... or any other artificial light af any kind of moving machine.

Still, I'm not over, I just managed to snuck home to eat, then I'll go back and listen to the teacher ranting at me. She will have a bunch of problems, but you know what... I just bloody don't care anymore. I can't turn into a quick witted, experienced teacher overnight, and the kids enjoy my clss all the time - they did today too. I talk with them in the breaks.

I can just imagine the standard problems: I'm not quick enough to come back with a snappy retort, I couldn't find the listening exercise at first try (she bloody promised me that she would do that, because it's some complicated machine, but never mind), I was too slow to respond (solution: don't take a breath... ever again, learn to function without it, not to mention that the thinking process should be dunno... automatic - that's why I said I'm not a bloody experienced teacher - I'm a trainee, for Cristsakes...) and whatever.

So... In a few hours... more to come.

Q: How many men does it take to put the toilet seat down?
A: Nobody knows, it hasn't happened yet.

Q: Why were men given larger brains than dogs?
A: So they wouldn't hump women's legs at cocktail parties.

Q: What is the difference between men and women:....
A: A woman wants one man to satisfy her every need...A man wants every woman to satisfy his one need.

5 down, 10 to go. 1/3 of it down!

The teacher is dead set on me being deaf. She reckons I already told her I am. Yeah sure. I just love telling people things like that. I'm deaf, mute and can't write. If only she said can't type I would have said yes, that's true. Gahh.

Come on! Look at me boots! They shine, man! Yea, me stood in front of speakers in concerts too often! Not to mention that I'm stooopid and a satanist and a lesbian and... dunno... could you come up with more insults? Right now that's all I could remember.

Anyway. Now I had linking sentences (which she never commented on), but now I was too slow. I can never, ever do someting right. It's like there's a big sign hanging over my head: "No! Don't tell me anything nice! I don't want to hear it!" She certainly makes my teaching practice memorable. Sheesh....

Well, tomorrow is going to be a double class, which will make me... happy in a way, that I can spend more time with the kids and give prezzies, as it will be the 6th of December... and that it will be 2 classes minus of the remaining time I'll have to spend under that hag.

Can you see me doing the happy dance? I can. Just a bit more, just a bit more. I will do this!

4 down, 11 to go.

The teacher always has some problem whipped out, no matter how hard I try. She had problems with me being slow. I did what I had to, so it was fast, no silences at all.

So now she misses the linking sentences. Which are actually there. I just can't get a "oh, this was a nice one". It would decidedly hurt her to say anything nice about me. Sigh.

Oh, and today I nearly went bonkers. My class was always buzzing with things to do, so she couldn't cut in, and what did she do? She made noises. Clearing her throat, coughing, all of them like she was nearly throttled. I got so angry I gave her a candy I keep for my brain when it's out of nutrition. So from then on she made suckling noises, managed to somehow fall over my bag (which was on a chair, in the middle of a large, empty space), dropped her books on the table with a huge noise...

At the end of the class I was trembling like jelly whenever she made a noise...

But I shall not lose! I will prevail! Because I have faced thougher opponents than her.

Bwahahahaha!

You know... Sometimes it is easier to make people feel a little uncertain, when whenever they speak bad about you and expect you to go crying to mommy... you don't. You just bounce back, grinning and smiling and being your sunny self...

That's what I did today. But... of course the story was about a bit more than that. There I was, waiting for the teacher after the lesson, so that she can rant about me and my teaching methods (me teacher trainee, me being helpless little lamb thrown to the wolf)... I wasn't alone. There was another girl sitting at the big round table kept for the teacher trainees because we all have to partially live in the school building, so... She sat there while the teacher insulted me, my intelligence, said my linking sentences were bad and she didn't feel like I linked the excercises together. (First excercise: warm up: listen to Sweet Dreams from Annie Lennox, ask questions, like do you know this song? do you know who sang that? Were they male or female? and here comes my linking Sentence when they fund out it was Annie Lennox: And now, we will read an interview about Annie Lennox, the singer of that song.) When I asked my teacher, what was wrong with my linking sentence, she said: "I don't know, I will have to think more about it."

Bullshit. I can smell a lie, and she doesn't even care about it. She still thinks I'm a bighearted fool. Good, I don't mind. Easy to fool people with that facade.

Anyway... after she said, that I should not pause and think if the answer was right or wrong, and I said I don't know, I have heard many sentences that are considered grammatically incorrect by secondary school books and correct by university standards, she started ranting, that I should know this, and if I do not know, I should go back to the uni, wait a few years and come back again to teach after. I told have I don't have much time, and refrained from grabbing the first blunt object and smashing her face in.

After the ranting has stopped, she went off, telling me that she must be off and she will call me whenever to look at my next lesson plan. Jolly good by me. Then, as soon as she was off came the other girl who was sitting there and said, that my teacher was an utter bastard. Duh.

Well, as it turns out, teachers are forbidden to cut in to the teacher trainee's class, to butt in and change their lesson plan ( that she did with me!!! In the middle of the lesson, no less... the bitch), and they should never (as another intelligent person) talk to someone like that. Not to mention that it was uncalled for.

Well, duh. I really hate to say, but the bitch is really as bad as my friend and predecessor teacher trainee said. She is a dense, mean and deaf thing... not to mention that she told everyone and their dog that I was deaf to one ear... dunno where she got that from, but she is sure that I told that. Har har, I'm laughing inside.

Never mind. I screamed myself out, raged a bit, spilled my guts to my friend, and went back to the meeting with the bitch.

First question she asked: "Are you afraid of me?"
Guess my answer. You wouldn't. I told her: "No. Why? I should be?"

And smiled. She instantly shut up and went back to being nice with me. I guess being all kind, friendly and never showing fear or anger or murderous intent counts as scary now and then. ^^

Whew. 2 down, 13 to go.

First class: I go in, all in all a nervous wreck, look at the guys, and turn into a pile of goey mass. They were sooooooo cute! 16 year old little guys, witty, clever, and abso-bloody-lutely cute as teddy bears in a toy shop window.

They warmed up to me, and I was so glad to have got them as my class, and I would have hugged all of them then and there... but that would have come out as strange so I didn't. Still, the urge was there.

There I go again. All it takes is cute children, and I go back to Miss "oh kids! give us a cuddle!". Have I mentioned I have a strange personality? If not... I should have. Long ago.

But they were sooooooooooo cute!

I'm scared shitless. Teaching practice is just around the corner. The students are angels, but the teacher I'm teaching under is a bitch, and and I'm bloody scared of her... and that I'm going to say a few things that should be said, but will cost me precious points and grades.
It's a sort of in-built reflex, that I don't take shit from people, because I have already taken enough to last me several lifetimes. So now I lash out before they would score. Guess my nickname comes handy...
And my need for callous, cold blooded boyfriends is explained now. At least they can't be hurt, and they can say the exact same things I'm already used to hear. Like a pavlovian reflex... You need to hear it, or you just can't feel good. Yeah, sometimes you can call me masochistic. Not too much, or I kick your face in, mind... ^^

Yum. Nothing can beat hot milk.

Want to have some great fun? Get on a bus. Claim the seat which is in the most crowded area and sit down. Wait till enough grannies have gathered, then stand up, and step back a few meters.
After that enjoy the fight that breaks out over one single chair, and laugh yourself silly while the grannies viciously list their age, and their many many sicknesses. (Only thing missing is the walking-cane fight.)
Oh, and don't forget to marvel at that they are still alive with that many problems. It's hilarious.

Why I decided to write about that? Well... funny thing is, whenever I stand there waiting for a bus, no matter how long I have been standing there, no matter that I always let the grannies sit instead of me, and that I do stand on the exact spot where the door will open to...
They always, always stand before me, so that I have to jump several steps back if I don't want the rude granny who elbowed me away to be splattered by the incoming bus. Honestly, at least once I wanna stay standing rigidly and see what happens. Too bad it will be my bloody fault and not the hag's.
Anyway. I stand there, and I get elbowed and they shimmy their way in front of me every time, but then I am second to get on. What do they do? They push past me! They run with their cane tailing behind them horizontally in the air, and rudely, rather rudely push me aside if they see one more free place to sit.
Not that I usually sit down. I do it only if the tram or bus is empty, and I'm dead tired. But that's in the evenings around 8 pm, when they do not frequent the busses anymore.
Still, the funniest thing is when two hags get their sights on the same seat. You just look at their eyes. They, of course, start it very polite, but their eyes scream bloody murder. Then they start listing how sick and old they are, trying to beat each other. At the end you just can't fathom how they can still be alive, because they should have died of at lest 3 illnesses now, which they have listed, or a bit more.
Were they 30 years younger, they would be kicking and screaming, tearing at each others clothes and hair. They are utterly disgusting. I don't want to be something like that.

Oh, and just after the operation of my back I was traveling on the tram, back hurting like hell, more so because it was rather humid on the tram and the sweat hurt my wound, and if I bumped my back into anything, or had to hang on tight, muscles pulled, back bumped and all that pain exploded like a huge red and white firework of pain...
Well, I automatically moved to help a granny to pull up her luggage, but stopped short because even bending down just a bit pulled muscles and the wound throbbed... And I was relived to see that the granny anaged it quite nicely on her own.
The tram moved, and the granny sat beside another granny and then she started talking about youngsters who were utterly rude and not helping at all. She - just in front of me - started badmouthing everyone under 30, while she looked at my way, and nastily so. Everyone on the tram who heard looked at me like I started hitting that hag in daylight and had a few kicks too...
So I told her, that if she meant me, and because of the way she looks at me I am pretty sure she did mean me, I would like to add that my back had been cut up a few days ago and I was aching even when I didn't do anything. Not to mention that bending down and pulling heavy stuff might open my wounds.
Then she gulped down a great breath and starting shrieking that I was a liar, a rude youngster, and I had the cheek to tell her that after not helping her carry her stuff.
I smiled and offered her to show her my covered wound (which had a bit of dried blood showing) in the nearest public bathroom, if she wants to call me a liar.
She screamed that I would club her and take her money.
I said, how else might I show her that she has no reason to call me a liar. I am not stripping in the middle of winter and a tramful of people just to show her that she is wrongly accusing me and ranting at me.
She called me a bunch of names after that, so I wished her to experience the same thing, if she is so petty.
There she went, that I was wishing her bad luck and cursed her...
So I asked her, why would she think so, if she is sure, that I have no wound?
She screamed at me a few choice words, so I wished her back, while she screamed, that I was talking back to the elderly.
My last comment was: does it mean I have to take multiple insults just because she feels like it? I am not taking any insult thrown at me, which is not real. If she wishes to be an elderly, so be it, but elderly does not include being rude and screaming at me at the top of her lungs, accusing me of lying and intended harm and theft. I wish the same for her for such a nice behavior.
And then I got off.

You know, I just love bad tempered old ladies who want to make people feel miserable just because. And I will always laugh at those. And maybe send a curse or two in their way.

Spleen

When the cold heavy sky weighs like a lid
On spirits whom eternal boredom grips,
And the wide ring of the horizon's hid
In daytime darker than the night's eclipse:

When the world seems a dungeon, damp and small,
Where hope flies like a bat, in circles reeling,
Beating his timid wings against the wall
And dashing out his brains against the ceiling:

When trawling rains have made their steel-grey fibres
Look like the grilles of some tremendous jail,
And a whole nation of disgusting spiders
Over our brains their dusty cobwebs trail:

Suddenly bells are fiercely clanged about
And hurl a fearsome howl into the sky
Like spirits from their country hunted out
Who've nothing else to do but shriek and cry —

Then long processions without fifes or drums
Wind slowly through my soul. Hope, weeping, bows
To conquest. And atrocious Anguish comes
To plant his black flag on my drooping brows.

- Charles Baudelaire
/translated by: Roy Campbell, Poems of Baudelaire (New York: Pantheon Books, 1952)/

I believe, that Mr Blake was owned by Mr Coleridge. Well... now, that is, for me.
This is, how far Tyger had been my personal fave, and now, it is Kubla's turn to roam freely as my fave. For a bit, that is.
Why? Read and weep at the sheer... graphicness of it!

"A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon lover!"

Na most kavarja, vagy nem kavarja?

Ez ment folyamatosan a fejemben tegnap, és megy még ma is. Imádott vezetőnk tegnap elérte hogy hátast dobjak. Az egy dolog, hogy én bepróbálkozok nála, de... eddig Ő még nem próbálkozott be nálam. Nos tegnap ez megtörtént.

Most pedig szipogok hogy ez csak poén volt, és a hátsómon találom magam, ahogy két szék közül alá esém, nem túl kicsiny valagamra. És persze ma nincs fent. Talk about being a tease.
Aaaaaargh!


És itt ülök, 11-kor este, és a kibebaszott előadást csinálom, mert kibaszott Árpika a kisujját se mozdítja. Faszom bele hogy meleg. No és aztán? Csinálja a kibaszott istenit, mert az ő lerohadt veséjét fogom átrugdosni, és nem szerencsétlen Ildikóét, amit ő ajánlgatott ugyanazzal a műmosollyal, amivel szar magasról az egész feladatra.

Faszom kivan az egésztől.


De azért jól vagyok.

PS: Come to think of it... I do like teases.

Looking for my Muse

Looking for a muse!
Requirements:

• far away
• nice to stare at
• easy to like, easy to hate
• provide inspiration
• require little attention
• endure my temper

Oh Raven! When you finally do get here, there won't be a hint of my old self left. You sure it's a good idea?

I think, I'll have to stop soon. I mean... the guy is cute, intelligent, funny and is to my taste (longish black hair and a hawkish nose - woohoo!)... but he is too young for me in my book.
I have a few rules for myself about dating, which I keep. Three, if fact: No dating the same man again. No dating someone's bf. No dating guys younger than me. Same goes for a crush, and 20 years is still not good enough.
Not to mention, that there is one 20 year old guy I would go for - given that I woold ever consider getting mushy with one. So... in the really really close future I will stop - I did the same thing many times. So I can do that.
Not to mention (number two), that I don't want a bf. They are time consuming and annoying. Of course... I could get one. If I wanted to. I could even use my "spooky powers"... Just imagine my face as I write that. Spooky powers my ass.
Anyway. I could try to get one with it. It all depends of course on the matter that; a: I met him, so I established a contact with said person so that he can actually link me with the feeling; b: I want it - and how much energy I use up for that matter; c: I get some favor or bit of help.

Now why did this even cross my mind to write about? A few days ago I saw an interview with a stupid loser idiot, disgrace to all, who call themselves occultists: Loui Padre. He is a dumb, useless fool, who makes up lies and sells them expensive. He says he uses voodoo, but he does not even know what it is. And he makes love potions, which can make people fall in love with you who never met you. Which is stupid.
Of course, there might be... no, I'm sure that there are people who are able to make that work, but... Loui Padre is sure as hell not one of them. And neither am I. I'm just a lowly occult scholar who... tinkers with stuff.

Anyway... using psychology would be, and still is easier. Meet the bloke. If you are lucky, you can engage him in conversation. Try to be attentive, take notice of his responses. Fairly simple. You just have to look. If he likes something, try to react, show some twinkle of interest, act all attentive and make remarks in kind, so that he sees you care. That's quite a way to make impression. Guys are suckers for that. So are girls...
Anyway. Starting off on the net is one great advantage, and sometimes disadvantage too. You set your sights on someone, do the above mentioned talking method, while you have time to check up info on the net... And when you see each other, no matter how much the guy likes you, he sees you and faints. Well... try to get to know his interests beforehand...
Gahh... I'm writing a manual. I suck. Anyway... This works. You just have to think. Why am I writing this? To show that brain makes up for many things. Psychology rocks, and you can get almost anyone with a bit of knack for psychology, good attention skills and brains. Hah!

Well... while I was panicking about one of our newest bus drivers on the hill, who, as it turns out, wasn't only bad at driving, he didn't even know the way, and people had to point out the directions and bus stops... Well... while that happened, I was thinking about many things.

This is one of my infamous traits, when 3 hours or 3 days later I shout out, that yes, I did see that movie, or yep, I drank that kind of tea and it tasted horrible as well. So, while I was pondering, came the light, and I knew.

Sam would be a fabulous woman. High cheekbones, delicate feathures, but what makes it work is the mouth. He is not as thin lipped as a normal male... (the ones I usually prefer - with the hawkish nose too... anyway, back on track...), and not as long faced and resembling a horse like the usual Brit. He has that Checkish blood in him, and it shows.

And he has a rather feminine build. Getting thinner made him look... more effeminate, and given the right tools, I could make him into a fine woman. ^^ He would kill me, I know, but a little bit of mascara, a bit of shaving (he will have to learn to shave soon, because those baby fine hairs around his mouth will grow strong rather soon), pretty girly clothes (women in London tend to be flat anyway, or so the clothes looked for me - one more reason I wouldn't live there: people don't know the meaning of F-cup... /moan), and probably no high heels. I didn't see his feet, but if they fit with his hands, they are slim and not really small. And I don't think people in London do stack up on size 45 high heeled shoes. Sandals will have to do, or some kind of pretty slippers women use.

Yeah. My brain is a scary thing. Better not wish to read it, or dinners, lunches and breakfasts will see the sunlight pretty soon. Gods, I love to be so scary. I just wish I could tell my brain what to think about... ^^;

Urgh?

Today I was totally miffled. I was just halfway to the uni, and at least 5 guys already looked at me. And I mean *looked*.

I'm pretty sure I didn't look all that different, just my usual stuff: turtleneck, pullover, long leathercoat, pants, boots. Nothing extravagant. And it's not like I'm a total beauty... Sure, I clean up pretty well if I really have to, but right now I didn't. And I still got stared at - in the flattering way.

All in all... it was pretty strange. I didn't get stared at in London (guess Hungarians love curvy women more), and it's not like I love the attention when I get it. I like to stay in the background. Better to observe...
Anyway. Off to sleep I go, and then back to the uni.

London, Day 4

Woke up, ate, Kriszta drank a coffee at King's Cross, then we went to the Westminster Abbey. My feet now hurt really bad and started it the first thing in the morning. The not so fun side of being fat, I guess. The muscles are one thing, feet are something else.
Alas! We went there, looked around, had fun. I was, and still am usually interested in arches, ornaments... anything over 2-4 meters, meaning that I'm not really that much of a fun of the paintings. Not everyone can be a Rembrandt or Michelangelo. And I feel sorry about that.

Anyway. After Westminster, we made a little detuor, looking for a toilet. We found a little canteen, and Rosa even bought a coffee, just to be fair. I feel a little guilty, but I would have left without buying anything at all. I'm so very mean.

Then we actually went to the Tower. I loved the ravens, and I felt so very sorry for them. These idiots should be charged with animal cruelty, and I mean that. We saw the jewels, the crowns and the false diamonds. My feet really did hurt then, so while Kriszta raided the jewel shop, I found myself a quiet bench and I was happy to note that I could rest my feet on in without actually dirtying it. So I did just that - piled my very effeminate docs on the bench and was ecstatic while it lasted.
Then we went on. Actually, it happened between the crowns and the toilets, and way before the jewels. But we saw them too. In the toilets we were hysterically laughing our asses off at the year of the loo awards we encountered stickied to the walls. We even took photos. It's completely logical: Hungarian tourists come and photograph themselves standing besides the year of the loo awards in the toilet od the Tower. What a hoot!
After the jewels, we went to the medieval gift shop, and both fell in love with the dragon pens. So we bought each, and managed not to kill the little kiddies who ran around with sugar rush on them, and who piled up at the cashier, each of them waving a playsword. Second time I was glad I didn't have a gun on me.

After we finished, we encountered a Hungarian couple, and after taking a photo of them, we went off to meet with Pete. We met him in front of Saint Paul's. But seen as we were famished, he brought us to the Japanese restaurant he worked in, got us some food and we were happily munching away in a few minutes. The food was great, by the way.
Then we went off to see Sain paul, and after seeing the interior and the entrance fee, we went to visit a little, unknown church instead. It was modern, but very pretty. The paintings were done by a guy who wanted to join the freemasons repeatedly... Never mind about that.
Then we went to Trafalgar square, then to a posh ice-cream store. I got off easy, eating one scoop of vanilla ice-cream dunked into a delicious espresso. Yum!

Then off we went in search for some gift chocolate. Chinatown, Soho. We actually saw the gay bar where not so long ago 4 gay people were killed by a bomb. Oh wow. We found a Marks and Spencer, where we bought some stuff, and after that we got to a bus stop and parted with Pete, who wshed us a safe journey and told us he might come and see us in Hungary.

Then we went home, after a torturous bus ride, which was way slower than the tube, which is really saying something, and reached the hotel. Kriszta ate I tried to get some food in me (I didn't have an appetite, which was really strange), watched the tube for a bit, showered and...
Well, Kriszta fumbled with the blinds, because on her window it was kind of broken, but the moon was shining, so she tried her best to rollit down. So we went to sleep... and just when I was nearly asleep, our beloved "random ghost" pushed it up with a loud noise. I nearly got a heart attack then. We got our trick that night, as it was Oct. 31 then.
It took me a while to get to sleep, but I managed it.

London, Day 3

Woke up, ate breakfast, spent half the day in the British Museum. We shopped a bit too. Didn't dare to look at most of the books, or I would still be longing after half of them. Have I mentioned how bloody expensive London is? Well, it is.
Then we went back to King's Cross, and Kriszta drank her coffee while I switched my bag for a bigger one at the hotel... and ditched my coat... or was it in the morning? I dunno.

Anyway. After that we met up with Satrio and went to a second hand book shop, where I promptly had to stop myself from buying half of the store. I bought 9 books, one of them will be Kriszta's Christmas gift. She has been longing for it for ages. I bought myself another few Pratchett books, a manga I fell in love with after reading it, some myth books (one Ireland oriented and one Faery oriented), some kind of "magic" book, which gives off a new age feeling (at least I'll have a good laugh), and other thingies. I'm so sorry that we left that occult book behind... well, never mind. Kriszta had a field day with the books she found.

Then we walked around, and went down Portobello Road. The shops were mostly closed, which was a pity. Then we went into a little umm...pub thingy, which is currently my favorite in London. It looked like a tropical island inside, full with palm trees and a colorful parrot kind of bird. I loved it. Had a lovely talk with Satrio, and I actually found the female side of the toilets first. (Long story, but once I found the wrong door, went in, was empty, couldn't be bothered to find the female one, and nobody was in... so it was ok... ^^ Kriszta had a laugh, tho.)

After that we went back to the tube station with Satrio, then went to the Hyde Park. Had a wonderful drenching (it was raining) at the Hyde Park by night, then went back to the tube station, got to Oxford Circus, walked around a bit, shopped around a bit, then went home, utterly tired.
Ate, showered, slept.

London, Day 2

Woke up, ate breakfast. It was what I ate in ireland, so I was used to it. Loved the tomatoes. Drank a tea while Kriszta drank a coffe at King's Cross, then went and got to the Temple station.
Sam was late. So we worried a little, then we went and I took a few photos of the bridges and other stuff around.
Then Sam came and we looked up the Templar temple. It was pretty. We didn't manage to get inside, which was too bad. We looked around tho, and it was really nice. Took a bunch of photos too.
Then we walked along the Thames to the Parliament and took photos of the Big Ben and Westminster Abbey too. Didn't manage to get in, as we had to hurry and eat dinner with the guys.
Met Satrio, Kevin and little Brit Brass near the station and went to eat. Had a good time, I think.
Then we said our goodbyes to all, and went to meet with Pete and Xavier.

Pete was a darling. He no longer has the mohawk, and I would call his hair blonde, not red, but never mind that, he was such a nice guy. Xavier was... intimidating. I admit, I have never talked with him before, and after first laying eyes on him I had a kind of prejudice against him. You know... efficient, good looking, staring at my friend... just the guy I was itching to ditch. I just had a feeling I was something he would have wished to leave out. He never really talked to me either. Never mind, didn't like him either. (God, I sound so childish.)

First we went into a bookstore. kriszta bought a few Neil Gaiman books, I bought 6 Terry Pratchetts (Discworld), and the 6th Harry Potter book. I hated my hard covered one. Then we went to Camden, looked around, shopped, or more like didn't really, because of the high prices. I tell you, I wished Ireland back. I bought faeries. The shop assistant even told me which one was which. I didn't klnow they had such a complex system for faeries. Wow.
Then we went and sat down (had to leave the first ...restaurant thingy, because it was so loud), and not too long after some musicians parked down in front of the one we sat after, and made enough noise to suspect them chasing after us to sabotage our talking with each other.
I took some pictures of them too.
Then we went back to the hotel, took a shower, ate dinner and slept.

London, Day 1

Woke up bloody early by a ringing phone thrust under my nose. Mark was calling me in the middle of the night, saying that he would liek to meet us. I said sure... after I understood what he was saying.
Managed to get dressed, get packed and got to the airport on time. Had to take off my boots - just as I expected. Then we went in, and not long after were allowed on the plane and departed. The food was edible, the plane not dark enough and I didn't manage to get enough sleep.
Over all, I think I was acting better than one who had slept around 3 hours.

Then we took a train (the airport was big, and it would have been easier if we didn't have to walk all over the place... I started hating the Brits again then) after we finally managed to get out of the airport, and then bought tickets.
The underground is a mess. You may need to walk more than you actually have to travel to find your bloody tube line, but yes, they have tube stations everywhere. But no escalators. And the people were so bloody rude, I really couldn't have guessed that we were in a civilized country. If this is what people call civilization, I'll stay an uncivilized Hungarian, who does not knock people over when they are in the way, and says sorry if she actually does bump into people.

So. The hotel people said we had to put our stuff into a room reserved for bags, and wait untill we can check in. After some shimmying, we managed to do just that.
Then we went to a Burger King (yuck yuck yuck) and ate something which tasted a bit better than in Hungary. Still yuck. Then met up with: Mark, Sam, Satrio, Kevin and... uh... Brass? Didn't catch his real name... and he wasn't very sociable. Just the way I imagined Brits. Keep your distance, keep your cool, act all polite and don't care the slightest. Yep. Just like that.

Then we went to Covent Garden. First stop: Body Shop. Yay. Bought some stuff, then went out and saw people making fools out of themselves. Never really liked those anyway. Went to a market, then made a complete 180, and went the other way to eat.
Wasn't hungry, so I listened to the guys instead. I took out my money and organized it, and they actually looked away when I put my money back (the little pouch hanging from my neck, directly into my cleavage) as asked them to! I think only Brits would do that. I laughed my ass off. Inside, of course.

Then... we... uh... went to the British museum, walked around, until we got tired and decided to go and check in to the hotel.

We saw the third person at the front desk that day. It was a middle aged guy with droopy eyes who (I'm not kidding!) searched for Kriszta's name for half an hour. After she showed her the proper way of writing it down. And again I was so very glad I can't wear or use a gun, or I would have shot him point blank there and then. And then we got our key.
Which was a hoot, because there was no lift and our room was on the 4th floor. My arms still hurt. My baggage was around 17 kg, so... it was fun. Full sarcasm here.
Then we realized, that the so-called bathroom we were so adamnant about was actually a little closet room, which housed the toilet and the shower. So, if you wanted to shower, you closed the lid of the toilet, stood beside it and let the shower roll. There was nothing dividing the two. Still, it was better than it looked. And it looked really bad.

Then we met up with the guys, (for the record we were late) and went to eat. "Just over the corner" aquired a new meaning, when we were still walking after half an hour and actually didn't manage to find the restaurant. Still, Moo is a darling, so I won't talk badly of him. But at that time I was so tired I considered fleeing as soon as I found a tube station.
We found an arabic restaurant first, so they were lucky, and I didn't kill them either. I was nice, see? We ate, we drank no alcohol, we talked.
Then we went back to the hotel, tried out the shower, and slept.

My memory of the four days in London is a jumbled mess right now. I'll try to do the tellingof tales tomorrow, after a night's sleep.

Still, I'm feeling morre than less hurt. My friends apparently have problems with everything I do. If I don't take action, I'm at fault. If I do take action, I'm at fault again. It would be better if I left them - apparently. I got a suggestion like that as well: join the next group, they are more active anyway. And maybe I just will. I think it's time to deal out as many hurt feelings as I got already for being active and... being there if needed. Guess people who give a fuck have it the hardest. Ain't I just so very positive? Har har.

Anyway. I didn't like London. It was civilised a few decades ago, but now it's plain ugly, depressive, gloomy and just lacks prettyness. Just like the German language, which you would never call the language of love.

I miss Ireland. I miss the long planes of green, the ever colorful moor, the many bridges of the Liffey and the pretty doors and buildings that line up after each other, no matter which town you are in the Republic of Ireland (which excludes the six counties, because Belfast I found plain ugly, nearly as much as London). Well... so much for today. My nocturnal habits just returned, so now I will try again to catch some sleep.

But first I'll have to cleanse my room, because somebody apparently rearranged my entire room, and books of no relation got to be in the same stack... I think I'll have a field day tomorrow reorganizing the mess. God help me. Preferably a nice one.

And if I get lucky enough, so that the weather will be better and I will have time, I'll go to my favorite cemetery to walk around, and clear my mind. I really, really need some peace, and alone time, or I might start to scratch the walls as I slowly and painfully go mad.

The second most horrible thing: shopping with (two) insane women. I had to try on at lest 50 item of clothing just to make them happy. I hate, and I repeat, I hate trying on clothes. Especially if the shop smells funny, and I mean... not the kind of smell of new clothes, but...
Well, there are smells like the smell of a new car and so on, and the shop smelled kind of like that. And my stomach gets upset at the smell of new cars... and smells like that. So I nearly threw up a few times, and still I hat to try on some ridiculous stuff.

I got a skirt (warmer than the usual) long and black, a warm, soft, black pullover, a green handbag (I hate handbags, but what the hell, my aunt wanted to buy me one anyway, I had to chose one.) a few really, really nice shirts (The you may invite me for a coke... - more to come about these...) and... a coat.
I just couldn't say no. And when I was allowed to go and buy myself a drink, everything was closed. I wanted to murder these... ignorants tyrants.

Well, as compensation we sat outside on a terrace, drank fruit juice and talked about... clothing... bahh. After that we went and visited the Dali exhibition, where I bought a few bookmarks for my (step)cousin and me. Then I got home and had to try on my new clothes to parade around so they can congratualte themselves of how lucky I was to have them.
Then I wanted to sleep but I was kicked out of the room when a relative phoned them on skype, and when I went back they were yelling into the mic so they can talk...

And when I could have slept, some friends of my relatives came over, and I was dragged off to talk with the pretty pink clothed blonde girls... because we got to have a girl party.
There I had to listen to their woes of nail polish issues, what hair color would look best, who slept whith whom and who's boyfriend, and... high heelend shoes. I really, really felt out of my element and would have gladly run out of the world. I hate pink, I hate blondes (artificial, that is, because they are the stooopid ones), and I could feel my IQ descending on long steps down to reach theirs. Yuck. Yucky yuck.

Then I had to try on the new shirts/blouses and show them around. Trust me, I felt really bad then. I mean... my own uncle looked at me like any other man when i wear those blouese. And one of the blonde girls said, it's not just a coke they may invite me to, but a full course meal. Still, I really don't think I had to show *that* to my unlce.

Well, once they left I felt better and celebrated it with 4 hours of reading. My IQ felt better too.
And then... then I went to sleep! <3

I'm currently at my oncle's place. We had to come and visit him and his wife, because they have built their house, and already moved in.
Well, so far all I can say is, that it's big, you can play tag in it without fear of upturning any furniture, and it's freezing. Well, I can say that the one who made the plans has not been an architecht, because the places are kind of awkward. Furniture and doors are thrown around and there is no clean order. There are 2 tables lined up with chairs around each of them, all in the main room, so that it looks like an antique McDonalds. The furniture is verry pretty, came from an antique shop... actually, I'm green with envy at some of them, but... there is really no order. They are tall, short, taller, shorter. Kinda... funny. The color seems to match for half of it, shades varying. Funny.
The plush armchairs and the antique chairs have nothing in common. The plush stuff is ultra modern with a light khakhiish cream color, all straight lines and looking like a cubist painting, while the antique furniture is art deco and baroque... and all between.
Well... gotta dash. I'll have to sing an ode to their new flat. How pleasant.

Back to square one. My mother is a royal bitch, and it was no friggin approvement on her part that she maybe started getting saner.
She stayed as mad as she was and she sure as hell should have been accepted to the ward so that she could be locked up properly away from sane people, from me she loves to hurt and there she should have learnt a little humility. Friggin hysterical bitch as she is. Oh, I hoped so very much that she came and hurt me, so that I could go in to the police and report her, or just hit her so hard in self protection that she would never ever come close to me again - but she didn't. Too bad, really.

My father is no better now than she is. Trust me on that. As soon as he neared his fifties he gone and went properly mad. Kudos to him, but now I have two insane parents who love to unleash all their anger on me, and I have nothing, absolutely nothing to do.
Guess I'll find myself a place to sleep for today. Either grandparents or ...where? Dunno, honestly, but I'm NOT STAYING IN THIS GODDAMNED HOUSE FOR ANY LONGER!

Need more leaves

I'm all better now. Sun is shining, mother temporarily gone out, skipping class... I even started taking less medicine, which means I'll be less depressed than before.
Still, classes are tiring me out, but hey, I have more and more freetime.

Have I mentioned that I love autumn? Well, I do! It's nearing the kind of weather I just love this season! Air a bit cold, fresh and crisp, the sun shining softly, giving a lukewarm feeling when I get the full blast of it, the smell of earth and burned leaves lingering around and a sea of colorful leaves covering the sidewalk.
Rather childish of me, but I just love to walk trough the deepest pool of them, ankle-deep, scattering leaves everywhere, more so when the wind is blowing and twirl them around.
Yeah, I love autumn.

By the way, here is a wallpaper for those who are interested... I just love autumn colors.
http://photo-origin.tickle.com/image/158/3/3/O/158332230O039473438.jpg

Sometimes I just have to ask myself, why do I even bother? I know people. No matter who you are, no matter what you do, you yourself are the most important, that I have realized a long ago.

Still, there are places you can see this more clearly than other places. For example a game. When they know you can't see their faces and won't recognize your classmate, the other guy on the last bus home, or your math teacher, they do the most honest things they can. They cheat, break promises, do all the things they would never do when they could be observed.

I would be amused and interested, if it weren't for a shitty day, shitty weak, and the game ruining my mood all the more. It's just so nice when people don't give a shit about you, and fuck you ten times over whenever they can. Guess either guild wars has to go, or my old guild. Right now, I dunno which one, but I don't care.

Friends will go too. Not like they don't know I know they don't give a shit about my existance, but hey, I chose those friends, I can blame only myself. Not to mention that I know they are like that. Maybe I should do them a service free of charge and tell them that yes, they are indeed petty little selfish creatures and not the all empathic all-caring friends they believe they are.

Honestly, it is much more work to nod that yes, you are so empathic, I can feel it, yes, you guessed I'm in pain because an aunt of mine died, suuuure, than saying no, you don't feel chicken poo, you insensitive wench. Deep guess. They never cared anyway.

God, I'm a miserable piece of crap. I should really get myself some new friends or a nice razor or two. I'd laugh at myself if I weren't so terribly depressed.

Raven, you bastard, you sure are taking your time.

Food!!

Yes, as the title indicates, I got my hands on some food. Why is it such a great event in my life? Lemme summarize it with a haiku:

My blood was sucked out,
my body aches, hungering;
depression ensues.

Well, that's basically it.
But what happened to my blood? Well, it was given away as samples for the docs so they can study it and decide what the hell is wrong with me. I have inherited so many illnesses from my ancestors, that it's a small miracle I'm still alive and moving. And I'm not even an inbred little princess. If I were, I would have all the money to buy books... Drool... Sigh...

Anyway. Me and food are slowly getting to know each other as I write (and stuff my face in between), and I'm happily announcing, that I stopped using Zyrtec (if only for a little while), so now I'm more awake than asleep. Woohoo! God, I see colors! I see sunlight! I'm less depressed than before. Yay!

.o¤~*°˘°*~¤o._.o¤~*°˘°*~¤o._.o¤~*°˘°*~¤o._.o¤~*°˘°*~¤o.

Oh, and Darken, thank you very much, it was nice of you to write and talk to me! ^^

Mark!! If you read this, would you be so kind to read my mail? It holds the information about my journey to London, which will happen in a few weeks time. It would be nice to know if you want to see me or not.

By the way I smoked a cigarette just now. Which I do once in every 3 years. Because my lungs are too sick to smoke regularily. But sometimes I just need to smoke, or I'd run out of the world.
God, I wish I was somewhere else.

I think, I've had a very shitty week. Friends acting like furies for seemingly no reason at all (me not getting the full swing of it but getting enough to be fed up and hurt very deeply), and a father acting like a major asshole for whatever reason he never ever told us. Not to mention the teaching practice, where they changed the rules to "ask a day earlier or you won't get in", so my day today was royally fucked up.

Not to mention, that I'm in the secondary school listening to lessons and then sitting at the uni, attending lectures from 9-10 in the mornings to 7-8 in the evenings. I am wiped out, sucked dry, stressed out and so very tired.

Add in big chunks of frustration, helplessness and a lot of hurt feelings (mine, of course), and there, voila, you've got my week. If I didn't know how big the pain would be, I'd slit my wrists. But I hate pain, so there.

Yeah, it's that bad.

Still Zombie

Writing this in haste. I'm still alive and somewhat well, but I have less and less freetime. The teaching practice teacher is a stupid, mean cow, and I'd murder her with a big, blunt object as soon as I wouldn't get years in prison for that.
The kids are cute, but it's just not my time to teach. I still have to sit at the back of the class and listen. And suffer to be criticized. I just don't get it... How would I know, how reformed church schools deal with things when I in all my teaching practice classes at thew uni and over all at the uni never encountered such a problem. And I just asked her how to deal with it, damnit. What did she say? That I should know because I'm not stupid. Well, I'm not a fucking mind reader either. I'll tell that the first chance I get.
Guess this is for now. I'm too tired to be nice, to make sense and be witty.

Another picture...

Today I'm tired (and still sick, darn it). So you will have to be satisfied with a picture of my new hairdo, without hairpins and accent braids.
Let me tell you, it's a nightmare. But there are a few pretty hairstyles I can make of this, so it's more or less ok. But when I let my hair down, I look like a scary voodoo queen. ^^

Boooooring!

Protests still go on, the police is getting a bit rough. Tear-gas grenades caught a boy in the stomach, on on the neck, the latter is in the hospital, chances of his recovery not sure. I really, really hate all of this.

I can't say the president should step down. Granted, he is as oily and a bastard politician as any other collegues of his are, but if he does it now, the mob will win. And I don't want that horrible mob to win. Ever.

If the president won't stand down... dunno what he will be able to do, seeing as he has lost the trust of many many people. Never mind that all of our politicians lie in our face and we actually do know it (save for my grandparents who believe that dear Viktor, who was the previous president 2 terms before, is actually a perfect guy who never stole a penny). I really don't have anything I could do to force the thing in any directon, so I sit at the sidelines, safe and atually sick, and watch. And I am so fed up with this Hungarian shit.

Why? They believe they are so Hungarian, and do stuff no Hungarian would be ever, EVER proud of. They think they are in the middle of a revolution. No. They are causing more damage by every night, hurting so many people on both sides, causing us more trouble, because it's US who will have to pay up, and it is our money which will be used for the repairs.
So much for peace, quiet and Hungarian people peacefully demonstrating without harming each other and causing damage that costs millions to repair. You know... Hungarians are mean people. We can be nice, we are hospitable. But when we get angry, we are so very nasty and so stubborn in our pursuit of what we deem right to do...
I hate it, I truly do.

It's revol(u)t(ion) time!

Well, the protest and the mobbing is still going on. Each night after the first one, they will gather, wait till midnight, and after that the peacefully protesting group of people will change into a mob, a trail of destruction following them.
They are scary. Policemen, people of any kind are hurt, they break all kinds of things, many shop windows, high costing gadgets and burning cars. Are they even people or are they animals? I really, really am not biased. They are hooligans, a mob of the worst. I hope they will get them all. A policeman is lying half-dead in the hospital bed because some drunk idiot decided to kill him. God, what happened to the people?
If it's the 72-year thingy, god help you people, because you will need it.

Well, that's all for today. I'm so very tired.

Something in the air part two

Sooo... Around ten ot eleven in the evening my parents told me top switch channels and look at what's actually going on in the city. I did.
A fight was going on. As I've heard, people were protesting peacefully in front of the parliament, and they turned violent when they were DENIED to read their protests and started to try to push their way in to the pariament and to the main building of the Hungarian Television called MTV. They failed on both, but they broke in to the building of MTV at least twice. They were pushed out with water cannons and pushed back again.
Then the mob began throwing stones at the buildings, and decided to burn a car. So they did. They fought the police, chanting patriotic poems (written for a revolution 2 hundred years ago), and jumped on cars and wreaked havoc.

Then came an armoured car, full of policemen with water cannons, trying to break them up. The mob stopped the car and attacked it. They jumped on and with stones and other blunt object tried to break in. The police fired some rubber bullets, I mean the ones in the car, because the car has been abandoned by the police. The ones in the car got trapped. The mob tried to burn the car while people, policemen were still in there, who didn't have a thing to do with all this.
I nearly turned off the tv then, but I had to see it.

Fortunately the trapped policemen managed to get out - by taking the protester's side. The riot was still in full swing, nobody went home, and I... decided to go to sleep.
Good thing I am sick today, or I would have been forced to go in to the city. It seems like things have calmed down, but I sure as hell don't want to go to the secondary shool I have to teach in or the university (under the wings of the reformed church) I study in. They would surely mourn that the bastard president just won't budge.
Truth be told, I wish he would budge and someone much better would take his place. A girl can still dream, no?

Something in the air tonight

Well, hell. I am talking about yesterday, because yesterday evening my cold prevented me from writing it all down. I'm still floored by the news and a bit scared. Good thing I don't have to go out today.
But let's start to actually say it so you all would understand.
We have a president. He is the first president chosen in full democracy to keep his post for the second 4-year term. The elections were a few months before, and it was pretty close. We have two big parties, two on the opposing sides. One is a rightist party with a president candidate who I can describe as a megalomaniac who loves the sound of his voice (he had to be sent to a psychiatrist when he wasn't elected a second time). The other is the Socialist party, that people don't really like, but is usually better than a megalomaniac idiot who steals money shamelessly. Well, they both do. And these two parties fight constalntly - as it is their nature.
Now, when the Socialist were chosen as the leading party around 4,5 years ago, they had another president, who had to resign, and instead of him came a millionaire guy, who had enough money not to steal any more. He had a charming personality and he certainly was a strong and charismatic person. He still is, but... he fucked up.

What went wrong is that our charismatic president made a few reforms that did not sit well with people. He planned reform that meant that we will have to pay for everything. More taxes, paying for each time we visit the doctor, paying for staying in a hospital and eating their food, even when we pay for our health insurance.
Students plan a huge protesting march because he named the school fees as a ridiculously high sum of money. Out of the blue.
You can imagine why he is Mr Popularity now.

Then comes a secret recorded speech of his (talking to his party), that they lied for four years, didn't do a thing, robbed the country. Now THIS caused a huge uproar.
People wanted him to resign, but he didn't. So, here comes the revolution, which I'll write in my next entry.

Brown and fuzzy

Well, today I was planning to sleep in. I did manage to catch more sleep than I did average, but I got woken up for a stupid reason. My aunt (by marriage - meaning she married my uncle) phoned me (the phone wouldn't shut up, so after a min or so I had to get out of bed, darnit, and pick it up) to ask if I wanted to go to Belgium, and be a sort of au-pair cum maid for a widowed guy and his 10 year old son.

My brain woke up enough to counterattack and I asked her how to, when I have the teaching practice to do she knows about well enough. She said I can go after that. Well, after that I still have my bloody classes to worry about and of course another exam I have to study for, and I'm pretty sure that I can't fly back every morning to the library and the teacher I have to consult with.

There went my sleep. After that I had to go, get myself the best anti-birthday party ever. Still, when I left, I saw something I don't see every day.
An owl was sitting on the tree in our garden. He was cute, brown and fuzzy. If he were just a bit closer, I would have run back up and brought a ladder to cuddle him up. But he was too far up. Too bad. Well, I talked him of how nice to meet him, then dashed off to my grandparents...

Well, they are as much of a strange bunch as ever. I wouldn't call them unfriendly, just... they would be better off with a granddaughter without much brain, a perfect body and a deep passion for magazines that only talk about oh so well known hungarian stars. Instead they got a granddaughter who has brains (even if I don't use it much nowadays), no comment about my body, and I don't even know who my grandmother is talking about who is having a baby or having breast implans or whatever the hell. I just don't care. Period.

Well, this year I actually managed to not to accept gifts. My grandmother loves to give me her old blouses made out of materials I'm allergic to (polywhatever), they are in hideous colors and they are tight in places... I'm bigger. (Meaning I have a bigger breast size than her.) Not to mention they look horrible. Anyway, this year I finally dared to refuse them, and guess what? I'm still alive. At least I don't have to use them as nightgowns in winter.

Anyway, I managed to get away, and met the owl again. He just left a few minutes ago to hunt in the dark. I really hope that I'll meet the guy again. he was so cute and cuddly.

Baaaaa!

I look like a sheep. Honest. I went to the hairdresser requesting not too tight curls. What did I get? The thinghtest ones. Now I look like a sheep/poodle with long hair/disturbed looking vodou witch with red, slightly more dishgevelled hair than they already have. Can you say yikes? I sure can.

But no need to worry, I can make use of accent braids. I already know what type of hairstyle I can make of this sheep-hair, and I have enough pins and pretty hair accessories to make it work.
At least I can say I have a hairstyle I don't have to worry about day by day, comb out each day and it's not looking like my hair is glued tight to my head. It actually looks like it has no weight. (Too bad I'm nearing the Jackson 5's gravity defying hairstyle. Gahh.)
Well, I'll have 2 days to try out new hairstyles, after that I'll go back to the highschool to listen to the classes...

Here come the little monsters

Making this post before I drag myself to my bed and sleeeep.
I have been looking like hell warmed all over all day. I could barely keep my eyes open, and fell asleep every chance I got. I still don't enjoy this.
The kids are ok, the ones I have met, and I still need to meet another class, who may also be taught by us... me.
But first, I'll have to suffer trough 40 more classes, because I'm only trough with 10. It took me 3 days. If I get lucky, I might finish it the next week. Because I could attend more classes. I'll be a full-fledged zombie once I finish and then I begin my teaching practice.
My objective is solely to pass. Grade does not matter as long as I do pass, but higher grades of course are more appreciated. But the sooner I get out of that madhouse, the better. Kids are a scary bunch, and I'll either run out screaming bloody murder, or I do it. Truth be told, I could slap a few of them. I sooooo hate little princesses who love to talk everybody out behind their back or in front of their faces, and trust me, I'd love to slap them every time I see them looking at me funny. (Last time they directed us to a wrong corridor out of... well, being cool and fucking with the student teachers. Aint't they bloody cute? Hell no.)
Well, it might be my tiredness talking, but I'm so very wiped out now... So I'm going to sleep. 8 hours of sleep... what a dream come true. I really hope it will, or I'm going to sleep while I sit at the hairdresser. (I have to go there once every year, because my curly hair is very, very artificial. Sniffle.)

Zombie Teacher, meet students

Gahh. I have no time to write in length, so I'll write now what I can. Well, I would have time, if a friend of mine wouldn't be talking my ear off to meet an ex classmate I had in higschool who doesn't give a shit if I live or die, but no, I have to see her off because... she is going to France. Well, boo hoo, I don't care. Where was she when I went away to many places.
Well, I'll go say hi and come home. I just don't have time for people who don't care for me. I don't have time to do things I want to do, damnit!

Why? Because my teacher practice has started and hell, I hate it. Why? Because I have to listen to (attend) 50 classes (meaning 50 x 45 minutes) before I could begin my actual teaching practice. So I live half my day in the high school I'll teach in - from 8 to 14 or to 16, depending on how much classes they have -, and then I have to attend my university classes in the afternoon and evening, so I get home around 7, or a bit earlier... depending on luck, and day.
This is pure hell.

Edit:
PS: My dear "friend" never showed up. So I left. Best solution. I don't have to meet her anymore.

Thanks guys for the positive feedback and the good luck wishes and... the "I knew that you will do it."s. ^^

Green is for Wasabi

Well, I have put this off enough, so I will write it.

I have passed the exam. ^^ But I am sleepy all the time and so much to do, so I... didn't write. Well, now I do, and I'll tell about the celebration we had with my friend yesterday.

There is a Japanese restaurant I wanted to try now for a long time, so we went there to celebrate me passing the exam. The restaurant was ok. The look was pretty, the waitresses... well, I can only describe my problem, as it has disappeared from English a while ago, so... they were theeing us. (Similar to being on a first name basis with someone - someone you are *close* with, but without them knowing your name. So... close and personal way of talking.) Well, this really didn't sit well with me, because it wasn't a cheap restaurant. Not to mention that western music was playing in the background. (Don't misunderstand me, I love Sting! But... this was a traditionally Japanese restaurant, darnit.)
So, we sit down, order drinks, and order food, and... my first obstacle came when I couldn't snap my chopsticks to separate them in two. Well, with a lot of help I did. Then came the second obstacle... my chopstick-holding was a bit rusty... and more or less nonexistent. But I got used to it rather quick.
Well, that aside, we ordered sushi. On a rectangular plate we got 5 sushi (one in the middle and 4 on each corner), and 4 maki (on each side, in between 2 corner sushis. We got 2 cucumber and 2 radish makis, so we exchanged them with my friend, because she hates cucumbers, and I hate radish.
There were some cookie thingies placed on the side, which I tried, and they were similar in taste and look to a Hungarian delicacy, so we liked it. The only down was that the sushi had no real taste. Or maybe because I was advised to eat some spicy ginger between some sushi, the taste might have been lost, but I pretty much doubt that.
Anyway, we ate tuna, octopus, crab and... something else which I don't remember, and one of the last ones were the middle ones. Now, my friend didn't like caviar, so she gave me hers. And I decided to try one befor the crab. It was fairly big, and the caviar had a blazing green color. Now I have seen some other colors like red, black and pale yellow, but green never. But why couldn't they have green, so I didn't stop to think...
So I chomp it down, start to chew and... there comes the hot paprika/chilli effect. My eyes become saucer-sized, they water, my face becomes red (my friend laughed at me!) and then I swallow and drink half my drink. I kid you not, it burned my nose. Well, I should have known it was seasoned with wasabi. They had the same color. When I recovered, I ate some cookies, the red ones, because I tried them first. Then I have a strange fascination with green, so I try it, and wham, there is the same taste... Wasabi again. At least it had less wasabi in it and actually tasted pleasant.
Well, then came crab and the rest, and at the end, I was faced with yet another wasabi-tinted caviar. I decided to be brave about it, so I started chewing right away before my body realizes what it is, but the effect was actually worse. So I drank the other half of my drink. But it was pleasant.
After that I ordered 2 mochi boxes for takeout, one which we started eating once we got out. Well, i would have liked any other filling, but this... Dunno what it actually is. Sweet, kinda like cocoa. Still, dunno. But I like mochi, so it was fine.

Well, that's for now. I'm tired.

Hurrah! Got some courses!

The sysadmin still lives, but not too long if I have anything to say about it. I can log in, which is good, but two-thirds of the courses I wanted to attend are already full. So I'll have to go and beg the teachers. Sometimes it works. Did last semester as well.

Consulting with the teacher was... interesting. She was 37 minutes late , so around 23 minutes remained from the one hour she promised us. Then she promptly started talking about allergies, and when I told her I have it from march to november, and I have it much harder than her, she promptly shut up about her 4-week long woes. (She is taking the mildest medicine, btw.)
After that, she told us a few things, got some tips (I relly hope those were tips), and then she dashed off. Got 20 minutes of talk with her - mostly about allergies.
You know, I really wish she would shave her armpits if she is wearing a sleeveless shirt, because man... It wasn't pleasant to look at. Not to mention that it is consiodered to be rude to tell a teacher that she could use some deodorant... So I didn't. God, a breath of fresh air never felt better.

Oh, and I managed to sign up for a few classes:

• Teaching Practice Course (need the other one as well)
• The History of Japan I. (1 of 2 semesters)
• The Cultural History of China
• Haiku Poetry
• Holocaust in American Literature
• Oil Wars in the 20th and 21th Century
• Near East (history) I. (1945-2005)

And the courses I wish to sniffle myself in to:

• The Life of the Vikings
  
• Skandinavian and Celtic Mythology
• History of Mythology
• Chaucer
• Arab-Israelian Wars
• Egyptian Mythology ( did the Egyptian Religion course last semester with the same teacher)
  
• and a pedagogy course (Cooperating Studying - in rough translation)
  

It's official. The system hates me. I can't log in to sign up for courses (been trying that for 2 days, lack of sleep is catching up to me), and to top it all off, when I phone the ones in charge (and I was calm, really nice and collected), they hang up when I'm explaining why I can't get the list of courses.

Not that I didn't know that those bitches don't do a thing besides hanging on the phone and trying out new nail polish, but I do believe that they at least should do their share of work, because it's all thanks to them that I can't sign up for teaching practice, and 90% of the courses, because they didn't check a friggin box that would allow me to sign up for teaching and other courses, that do not belong to the English curriculum. Not that I have the full list of English subject, mind, but at least I have a list of a few - which are already full, and I can't sign up for them, damn it!!!

And I'll raise hell if I can't ask the teacher to add me to the list of the teaching pratice course (which you have to take during your time of teaching practice), because then I'll have to stay one more additional year, and then... then I'll have to pay.

I nearly forgot one of the main reasons I made an English blog. Darn, my memory is bad.
So... um... "Raven". Don't you think it's high time we meet? If you are around, I expect that we should. Or need to. Whatever.
Anyway. My short-story like dreams returned, not like they leave for a long time. I don't mind them, it makes for a lot of funny, interesting or strange stories - if I have time to write them down. A few writings of mine were inspired by a dream. (Though I do occassionally have some freaky ones.)
And of course at least something interesting is happening besides me trying to stuff all my notes directly up to my brain. How? By straws, of course. - I know, I know, I'm not making much sense, but hell, I'm fed up, and that's that.

Oh, and PS: Zaraki Kenpachi is still the cutest. Today I saw a picture of him... in only a hakama. Never going to look at another male ever again. ^^ (Joking, joking. But he looked good. :P)

Woot! Got my luxon necromancer armor! I'm pennyless now with my charas, but man, is that pretty!
Anyway, moving on. Hand not completely ok, had a few ideas I absolutely had to write down, and then attempted drawing. As it turns out, I've gotten pretty rusty, still, I wouldn't mind a male model. Currently, I'm fascinated by angel-like creatures, so I might attempt bird feeding in the furure to get some nice wing sketches.
But why am I so in love with winged humanoids? Dunno. Might be his influence. ^^

~*~

Anyway, the horror on the tram retold in English, as Sam requested.
What happened? One spring morning I get on the tram, half asleep, grabbed some handy thing to hang on to, and tried not to get paranoid, as I was sqeezed tightly together with many people. (I can't stand large crowds, because... well, that's another story, that not all would understand, anyway.)
So, there I am, hanging on tightly, sleepy as hell, and comes one stop when an old lady gets on, and sqeezes behind me. I don't particularly care, happens all the time that people get on the tram. The tram starts to move, and comes the first jostle, jostling the lady. As it turns out, she couldn't grab anything, so she grabbed me.
Now, I was facing the windows, and she was behind me, so it's still a mistery, of why she grabbed me full on the breasts. Well, one side to be exact. My eyes go saucer-wide, my elbow starts to move, until she croaks behind me: "ah, little dear, could I hang on to you just a bit longer, because I cannot hang on to anything else?" My elbow stops, and I try to inch away on the crowded tram, and try to ask her to grab on anything else... It didn't work. She started telling me that she couldn't let go, or she would be flat on her bum in seconds - which means bone fracture and all that. I try to edge away still, and hope against all hope that she would let go of my breast and get hold of my arm.
Right in the middle of trying shimmying away, the university students heading in the same direction, and standing all around me start snickering, and people start to laugh - at the lady, thank heavens. Those who can't see try to crane their neck to see, and the lady, not understanding the reason of the snickering starts to talk about how she would fall over (the tram was really crowded, so I doubt that she really would have), and so she needs to hold on.
And she is still holding on. (Big, big sweatdrop.) Well, after one stop she gets off, thankfully letting go of me and the bigger half of the people get off that station. (Shopping area, one univeristy, you know the things.)
And I stood there dumbfounded, blinking and thankfully managed to get off at my stop. God, that was one hell of a good laugh later, when I recovered my wits.

Oh, and for a bonus, I'll tell another story, in which I was the culprit.
So, one winter afternoon (gloomy weather, all around christmas lights on the streets, halfway to darkness), I was riding the tram. I was standing, but I was rather tired. (I usuall stay up too late. My bad, really.) The tram is crowded as always, so I sqeeze myself in, and... find a nice, comfy, warm, squishy coated back. The guy had to be around 2m tall, and he had the softest coat all around. Probably chasmere.
So, there I am, party sqeezed against the guy's back, and I realize how warm, comfy, soft and convenient it is. So I lay against it (I was anyway), get comfy and close my eyes.
You can probably guess, what happened.
I wake up, the guy shaking me quite gently, that he has to get off this station, so he is sorry, but my pillow has to move. I look up at the guy, look out the window, relize that it is my stop as well, so I mumble an apology about how comfy his coat and back felt, and then I run along.
Still, I miss that coat. Best damn standing up sleep I ever had. ^^

Woot! Old movies!

Woot. I've just watched two of my fave old movies. One was The Money Pit, and the second the Working Girl. Well... People might look at me tomorrow strangely after confessing this, but I like normal movies. Spurprise, surprise.
What else? Still trying to study, waiting up for the time being and reading... I want to read so many books and I know I shouldn't, because I always remember the fun things I've read and not the stuff I should while writing the exam. So I try not to.
Guess that's all. The ametrine I bought is calling out to me, but I'm keeping it till the exam... Or maybe not. Have I said, that I love both amethyst and citrine? Well, if they are mixed in one stone, I love them even more, if that's possible. Well, that's all for today.
Tomorrow I'll take all my medicine like a good girl and go out to play. (I'll pick cornelian cherries - Cornus mas in latin.) They turn sweet around this time of the year, and we already have made jam from a big amount of it, but still... If you can do more, do it - that's my family's motto... sometimes. ^^
Anyway, stopping now. I'll go sleep soon, but first, some reading.
...And I need to cook the blasted fish. Gahh....

Got all my goodnight wishes! (Still, I'm sorry that Reg left before I could respond.)
Yay, I'm all better! Hands getting better as well, but I still need to study.
Lovelife looking up, starting to forget the guy, and hey, people want to invite me for a coke. ^^ Still, I meant to show the pendant, not the... bust size. I'm still pondering about a better solution of showing my pendant without guys getting nosebleeds. Or fainting. Still, secret weapon seems to be working well, not to mention that I have blouses that have a bigger cleavage. But I'm going to spare you. *evil grin*
What more... Merlin is still... a bit sickly. I dunno what could have triggered his sickness. I have fed him the usual things, so... beats me, really. That1s why I've taken on feeding him small pieces of banana and coal tablets. He's still not that healthy, my poor baby. *cuddles chinchilla* Still, he seems to be getting better. *crosses fingers*
I'm still pretty scared of the exam, but that's normal.

Responses:
Matthew: you may invite me, but you have already seen me with some nice cleavage, no?
Darken: you are ok now... right? And please don't say the picture is that shocking... I feel bad.
Mark: hi dear! Nice to see you. :D

Fossil!

Oh, I forgot. I meant to post this sooner, but I forgot to take the picture, so here it is, my new pendant, made from some fossil. I love it, but to show it I'll have to wear the "you may invite me for a coke" blouses.
Still, I think it's quite pretty, don't you think?




Responses again:
Matthew, Darken: thank you! I hope you will be right.

A Perfect Circle

Well, yesterday I was dragged off shopping, but things turned out nice, because I could go to the gemstone fair (sale and exhibition), and bought some new stones. (I'm a gemstone fanatic.) I bought an ametrine (a stone that is half amethyst and half citrine - citrine is "made" from amethyst when the stone is heated up somehow underground.). It was pretty expensive, but i'm in love with both amethyst and citrine. No kidding.
Not to mention tourmaline that I love as well, and bought some cheap rubine shards that could be used for a bracelet. Still, it's a bitch to try to make a beaded bracelet out of them, because they are darned small. But it's pretty.
Well. One of the vendors was... funny. You know that ezo-type. She was talking about the stupidest things about hematite and body-leaving all that... well... ezoteric confusion.
I liked her more when she was quite normal and I had to point out which stone was which. Now she's got the ezo-sickness, and I'm scared of her. Too bad, really. If we weren't in the middle of a huge mob, I would have told her what she shouldn't believe, and what to read in order to keep her sanity and don't lose herself in the cheap ezo-lies, but alas, I hate mobs, so I made my purchase as quick as I could, and left her to her devices. She either succumbs completely to the lies, or she gets back her senses.
Either is fine really, as long as I find the things I want among her things as I usually do.

Another thing, today the night sky was red again. I hate it when it happens. Makes me feel strange and jumpy. The night sky should be a dark blue and not red. I never saw a phenomenon like this when i was a kid. I started seeing things like that around from 4-3 years on. Quite disconcerting. I guess it has something to do with the greenhouse-effect. So do the strong storms they sometimes trigger. Wind blowing, lightning and thunder, but no rain. I don't really like it.
I like blue skies, light or dark, and rain with the lightning and thunder, please.

And now, I'm going to sleep and definitely not waiting up for someone who is not coming anyway. Hmph.
Oh, and the title of the post? I'll give you a little hint.

"Wake up and face me
Don't play dead 'cause maybe
Someday I will walk away and say
You fucking disappoint me
Maybe you're better off this way"

PS: I find Gutts cute. It's official - I'm mental.