The bitch

There is something impossibly annoying about the way my uncle's wife... errr... my aunt stares at me whenever I talk about anything I like to do or do at all. Actually, annoying is not the right word, but I can't find a better one. Maybe prejudicial. She just gets this artificially polite, puzzled look on her face and you can see she's tuned you out and thinks you are crazy and thinks you should be told how to live your life and should be overseen by someone like her - and you should be hit over the head, hard, whenever you even think about trying to stray from the path she planned out for you till you die.

And there is something even more annoying, hurtful, cold and just plain uncaring in her eyes when she tells you what she thinks you should be doing. Every time we meet sher asks me why I don't do this or that. She always comes up with ideas that never appealed to me, and of course I don't have any abilities to do.

• She asks me why don't I study to become a doctor. I see dead people, I run screaming. (No pun intended.) I see wounds, I faint. (Ok, so not a paper cut, but oozing lots of blood and maybe see bones... oh gods, please no.)
• She wants me to work with numbers. I do not have the affinity, and I fucked up every math test because I was frikkin scatter-brained and added up the wrong lot. So no, I am not friends with numbers.
• Then, she wants me to be a scribe/typist whatever. As in work in the law department as a woman typing away stuff for a living. They earn as much as the cleaning lady, work from dusk till dawn and after a year or two they can join a course where they'll be taught some stuff about a law and be a law secretary. As in the only available advancement, to earn more than a cleaning lady is to learn the law and all the clauses. I didn't study to become a lawyer because of my memory. I remember small details, not the bigger stuff. That and because when in a tight spot I go blank and I can't remember anything.

She tells me I should have learnt a profession. I learnt 3. It's not my fault the crisis hit and people are let go and hardly anybody needs people of my profession. During the boom they did. Nowadays they hardly hire anybody.

But alas, I dunno why she can't come up with something that needs good English, creativity and deft fingers and someone with a good planning ability and a clear, logical head. Because those are my stronger points. I'm damn good in planning, I come up with new and creative solutions, my English is pretty damn good and I am very good with my hands. (No, no pun intended. But if you have seen the stuff I can crochet, model from clay, assemble from beads, you know what I mean.)

Anyway, my safest bet so far was secretary/IT helpdesk/customer service. That's what I can do, and I cannot fathom why she can't understand this.

I have NO idea why this bitch from the ninth level of hell can't understand that I'm not her toy to amuse herself with, I won't let her live my life and for the love of any god, I know what I can and can't do, I wish she would realize I'm not made from hot wax that she can mold to her own image, godsdamnit. I'm my own person and she WON'T get her hands on my life.

I want to find a job much, much more than she thinks I do, and I want to find a job I won't feel like killing myself during every second of it. I want a job where I do what I know how to do and I just don't want to feel so miserable because I have no idea what I should be doing.

I just wish I could find myself a job and tell her where to shove it, because at this point if I tell her to shut up my folks will get the wrong idea and then I'll be told not to bite the hand that feeds me and I just can't give up my free will and my spirit like that. I'm me, godsdamnit and not an instrument for others to live out their lives again!

Lions, and Tigers, and Bears! Oh, My!

Yep. Just as expected. The carnival of Heroes sucks crocodile balls.

Actually, most of Heroes does so far. The only cute part is the deaf woman. She is the only element I like.

The others? A bad joke, mostly.

• What do you call that, which has no life? Peter Petrelli.
• Sylar says: join the dark side, Parkman! And after two seasons of flirting with it, he finally does. Hands up those who didn't see that one coming.
• Claire and lesbo girl kiss. Fanservice much?
• Angela finally notices she has another son besides Peter. *gasp!* No wai!
• Course by then she's just scared shitless her son, who is actually not her son but a batshit crazy mass murderer with kickass special powers programmed into being her son who got killed at the end of last season... (Seriously, can you still follow the plot? Doesn't it sound stupid?)
  
• Creepy earthshaker borrowed from Carnivale stole Jack Sparrow's compass. There will be hell to pay. (They prolly didn't have enough money to borrow Brother Justin or Ben Hawkins so they settled for little Tommy Dolan. And have I mentioned how creepy that guy is? I hate the earth shaker. He rubs me the worst way ever. I can't stand people like him.)
• Earthshaker looks disturbingy like Willie Wonka while inviting Sylar into his Carnival. (Am I the only one who thinks Sylar has godmode on and should have been killed about at least two seasons ago? I mean then he was still interesting. Now he is like some annoyingléy overused plot that still gets dragged in every time and you wish it would just go away.)
  

So Tim Kring has spent the summer watching Pirates of the Caribbean and HBO's Carnivale. I'm surprised nobody sues him, ever. Although as crappy as the show is going, who would claim to have any connection with its plot whatsoever?

The only teeny tiny part I actually approve of is the way the future actually changes now with the changes made in the past. It never happened in the last seasons, so I am happy they realized the past and the present are actually connected. Well done, idiots. You were kinda late, you know.

Teh Mega Rant

I hate the idiots, who think that only anorexic pre-teens need boots. I cannot fathom how in the nine hells they think one size fits all.

I frikkin hate that I can't find flat-heeled boots that I can zip up completely. Why oh why can't shoemakers realize that I would pay good money for a pair of decent looking leather boots that actually fit my ankle and a bit above. I don't want knee high, or god forbid even higher reaching boots, I'm not some bored housewife with domina-envy.

I just want a pair of leather boots that fit me, reach a few centimeters above my ankles and for the gods' sake, no heels.

So... what did I see in the shops we went to? High heeled knee-high boots a hooker would blush to wear. I saw some decent looking boots with modest heels and even some with flat heels. But each and every last one of them were made for girls thinner than sticks.

Why the fuck do they only make boots for starved Ethiopians? I thought this was Hungary for fuck's sake!

And no, I didn't find any boots for me, if you were still wondering.

Well. I actually had a good night's sleep when the salt lamp was turned off. Gods, it feels so good.

Course I'll have to run around the city to find pots for the new chrysanthemums my folks brought home. My mom brought me two more small potted ones and my dad fell in love with a huge bush of deep vine red one I "lovingly" nicknamed plantzilla. Of course it's moi who will have the pleasure of re-potting plantzilla. And trust me, it'll need a huge pot. I wonder if I will be able to carry it home.

(I only use clay pots, none of that shitty plastic for me, thanks. Although plantzilla's future pot makes me reconsider it.)

Anyway, today's the day I go and try to buy me a pair of decent looking boots. I mean I love my Docs, I do, but to some places it's kinda... inappropriate. Not to mention boots take time to put on... well, the Docs with the shoelaces in any case.

And now I'm off to shop. In the worst case I'll pop in to IKEA after teaching for the pots tomorrow. (Oh joy.)

Having faith was never my thing.

Sleeping with a frikkin light on either. For one thing, that damned salt-lamp thingy I keep turned on at night is driving me batshit crazy. I haven't had a decent night's sleep since I began using it. I have been dreaming about horrid stuff, and I seriously need some time out. I'll figure something out to keep the salt going.

So back to the faith thingy. I let a guildie roam free on my blog. So... in case my blog miraculously disappears, don't be surprised, just go back to the previous address. Why? Because if he starts harrassing me about it I'm going to deny it ever existed.

Call me paranoid. But hey, it has happened once already.

I so hate these trust games. This sucks. I hate mixing up ig with my real life and I hate people knowing about all my little secrets before we actually get to know each other. Today is just fucking priceless.

Weather: 20 degrees less than last week. Meaning: 3°C.

Job fair: got some pretty pens and a Hewlett-Packard lip balm. Go figure, but I like it.

Jobs: none so far.

Tired? Very.

It never rains

...it frikkin pours! We've had rain for more than a day now. No sunlight, lots of wind and for tonight we were promised 140 km/h speedy wind and more rain. Tomorrow more rain and more wind. This Friday? Snow.

Boy, am I happy or what. (No, I hate cold and the lack of sunshine.)

So in light of this, I made myself a hat. It's crocheted. It was difficult to make, although at least the yarn was thick enough so it could be made quicker, but I still had to unravel parts of it. The brim was the hardest to make... actually, it was a bitch to make, especially when the amaranth/ceries coloured yarn ran out in the middle of the last row, so I mad to make it much thinner. Oh and by the way both balls of yarns were bought in a second hand shop, both still with the protective paper on, unused, so I used up around 100 gramms of acrylic yarn for the hat in two colours.

My mom let me put it on her head and take a picture of it. She also said it looked like I bought it from a shop. Coming from her it's the highest praise ever.

We started our cemetery visits early this year too. Nobody says you can't go a week or two early, after all it's the thought that counts.

Anyway, I bought a chrysanthemum (deep purple) at the cemetery florist and will plant it in one of the empty pots lying around the balcony tomorrow. Who says you can't buy your plants anywhere you see them sold legally? ^^

My other chrysanthemums are either blooming or about to bloom. We had nice weather so far, but not anymore. Next week we were promised frost and only a couple degrees above zero in Celsius.

With that in mind, when my folks dragged me into a mall before we went home, I saw a very pretty autumn coat. Deep, very deep green that's almost black, long, stops just above my knees. And it's a very soft woolen coat (not sure it's genuine wool tho) with large buttons and a minimalist look, but I'm pretty sure that style never goes out of fashion.

The price, sadly, was pretty steep. Until I went to check if it was the correct price. It wasn't. instead of 11k it cost me 8k. Obviously, I bought it! ^^

That said, I think I'm ready now for bad weather in style.

Yay!

Autumn is finally here

Tonight, when I went out onto the balcony to take a look at the deep red sky in the impending twilight, the bitter smell of smoke of burning leaves assaulted my nose. Never mind, that it was a mild, mostly windless evening and that the roads are clear of fallen leaves, the scent of burning leaves marks the beginning of autumn to me.

You can stick me out on my balcony blind in any season and I would tell you which one it was. I know spring by the smell of freshly grown greens and the smell of flowers, stronger or weaker depending on the month, summer from the scent of sun-baked stones and wood, autumn by the scent of tangy, bitter smoke of burning leaves and the rotting leaves and winter by the clear, sharp smell of pure oxygen.

Interrupted many times. I'll maybe finish my post when I won't feel so murderous anymore. I so need to get out of here.

Let's shake some dust!

Yup. I decided to re-watch Carnivale! ^^

Why? Because I'll have to watch the newest season of Heroes. Believe me, I didn't want to, as the show is so crappy that I feel like banging my head on the walls whenever I watch it... But they actually introduced some carnival elements into the newest season. And since Carnivale ended abruptly and there are still no new episodes out (and probably never will be) I wanna see something like that again.

So, since the newest season of Heroes is, as far as I saw in the preview, a mix between Heroes and Carnivale, not to mention Tommy Dolan's actor plays the carnival leader in Heroes... I decided to give it a chance. After I watch Carnivale.

Of course I know this means Heroes will pale even more in comparison... but I just need to watch Carnivale. It's a comfort thing. But yeah, with Heroes' unimaginative and crappy plot and stupidest plot twists in history it's bound to be a disappointing experience. So I'm watching Carnivale first, before it gets sullied by Heroes. Although I hope that for some reason, it won't.

And yeah, Heroes is that bad.

Just one example: Claire Bennet (aka The Cheerleader) has rapid healing as her very special power. Her blood heals and resurrects, as proven in season 2, when her daddy gets shot in the head and then gets resurrected with her blood later on. Still, in the last episode of season 3 she sobs on the dead body of her (biological) father and doesn't even consider to give a shot of her blood to her poor daddy. Doesn't it strike you as odd? Instead, they give the resident evil, psycho killer all his memories and program him to look, act and be the dead person they could have saved with minimal effort, and I mean minimal as in about 3 tablespoons of Claire Bennet's blood.

...uhm... hell. Maybe I shouldn't watch Heroes after all.

Call the press, I'm feeling a bit better. The doc gave me antibiotics on Tuesday, and besides the side effects, I'm getting better. Side effects include nausea and other bathroom-related activities. I don't like it, but oh well.

Been sleeping with a light on, not because I'm regressing back to childhood... not like I slept with the light on ever... Anyway, the light in question is a salt lamp. I figured that since I had to use it for my lungs, and since anywhere else the small, bright light would have driven me partially blind, leaving it on while I slept was the best option.

It still bugs me a bit because I'm not used to sleep with lights on, but I just turn onto my other side and that's that. And come to think of it, during winter it might lift my mood, after all I get depressed easily without sunlight.

And next week I'll go to the doc again. I seem to be having some goitre issues. Another damn inherited family illness. Doc will take some blood and make an ultrasound once I'm off the antibiotics. I wish I inherited something nice for a change instead of a family illness again.