Mily csodálatos nap ez a mai. Újabb hasonló érdeklődésű leánykára találtam. Láttam egy régi ismerőst, aki sétapálca helyett esernyővel rótta a várost. Hirtelen bevillant, hogy a stílusosság és a röhelyesség között milyen vékony a határvonal. Bevallom, nem tudom eldönteni, csak a határon áll-e vagy már túlment rajta, de majdnem elröhögtem magam mikor megláttam.

Nyelvészettel a faszom tele. Unom, és szar. Emellett túl sok napot basztam el, szóval bele kell húzni.

Tegnap végképp elegem lett a legújabb társulatból akikhez hozzáverődtem... egy internetes játékon... Ami nagy hülyeség. Hasznavehetetlen, tehetetlen, teszetosza banda, szóval hamarosan vagy átpártolok másokhoz, vagy végképp elunom ezt az egészet. Nem látom nagy hasznát annak, hogy napokig semmit nem tudok csinálni, mert mindenki elvan a saját kis világában. Ha nekem ez kell, nem keresek társaságot. A társaságban már alapjaiban benne van, hogy többen csinálnak valamit. Ami nem faszvakarás. Idióták. Hócipőm tele.

Tegnap már majdnem feladtam hogy értelmes emberre akadjak, mikor szóba elegyedtem egy chatablakban, ahol töltöttem, pár ismeretlennel. Jó fejnek tűntek, ma, haösszejön, újra dumálunk. Mint víz a szaharában szomjanhalónak.

Yup, totally digging my flat-heeled black sandals with the patterned leather straps. They are very comfy and so very pretty.
Photocopied so much I could not stuff it into my bag. It is a first. My bag is a handbag, belonging to a female, so it should be able to swallow everything. I mean they are know to contain double the amount that it should be able to hold, that's why they are called purses or female handbags. Well, this was just too much for my poor thing.
What else? Oh yes. My darling rodent just offed another necklace of mine. The chain. It was his third. Gotta go and get it repaired tomorrow or the day after tomorrow. I shall keep that in mind. Sigh. Sometimes I wish he had a button to turn him off. Will try to find him a girlfriend if I can, as soon as I can.
Gonna ask a shrink friend of mine how to get rid of my psychological connections, since they are getting a bit restrictive.

Reading American Gods. Love it. Simple as that.

Yesterday it was pure hell and torture warmed over. Today I'm all better, but I shall be glad to say good bye to "Aunt Irma". *Thinks about The IT Crowd and bursts out laughing.*
Went shopping with my mom. At least I got some things out of the bargain.
Got a buttersoft leater white pair of shoes. They are of course thin and made for summer. Totoally flat heels, of course. Also got a sandal adorned by black leather straps that cross each other in strange patterns. Looks kinda like a mary jane, but not quite. Flat heels, of course.
Also got a blouse and some utterly comical keychains with animals on them. Got one for mom and one for dad. I'm such a sweet little doll, eh?
And I handed my dad his after he declared I must be +20kilos heavier than what I say (and what is my real weight), and that I must have a 35-40 points less IQ than I do. Course he does not know what's my IQ and prolly doesn't care. Dragged him over to show him my weight and did not tell him how many points he guessed wrong. No point in showing him that an arts student is better than him and his wife in brain requirements, while they are so high and mighty with their professions of architecht and engineer. *bored shrug*
Who would honestly believe they are more clever than her, when they believe Star Wars was a pure science fiction, and so not fantasy. Two words: teddy bears. They sure as hell don't have pointy ears, but come on, walking, talking teddy bears in the jungle? Might as well be the elves instead. At least you can believe in pointy-eared people (think Spock), but cuddly little bears? Nope, not unless they are coalas totally zoned out from eukaliptus.

There were more things I wanted to write, but I forgot. Shrug.

It was totally Hollywood today. A guy went into a bank, tried to rob it, captured some people for hostages. Police came and after some hours they barged in and killed the guy.
Seriously... last time I checked it was Hungary and not the bloody USA.
Yuck.

On a happier note: got a black bracelet, a thin wristband. Black, as I have mentioned, with "Dream" imprinted on/in it. (It was a present from the shop where I bought some dice-beads. Small, black dices with white spots and holes in them. ^^ Now I have a dice bracelet. Looks pretty.)

It's still not warm enough. A pity, that.
Got to read the second half of Shipping News, since I'm going to write about it. Not to mention that I must study bloody phonology. Someone kill me now quickly and painlessly. Please. Now.

My dear friend did not help me any. She just chirped to my mother that she is working, and now everybody is after my ass, that why am I not working my arse off while attending uni and teaching. Jolly good. Feel my hate, because it burns like the fires of hell.

Half the time I'm pissed off at anybody and everybody in my vicinity when they are bloody stupid, and since they are human beings, it happens fairly often.
The other half of the time I'm trying to figure out what's my situation with my so-called boyfriend. I mean the guy never even kissed me! If he has problems with me, I'm usually a sensible being (if they do not piss me off by breathing and/or existing) so I can listen to their litany. A guy who hasn't got the guts to bloody kiss me even if it's on my cheek is just insufferable. I mean even Geek worked up the nerve to do it. Yeah, I'm scary as shit. Not.
Well, take it or leave it, I'll go to that concert, and as much as I'm losing on games, I should be hooking up with the most handsome (in my eyes) and intelligent guy ever. Hah. As if.

And on top of all else, tomorrow... make that today, I need to visit my grandma. That will be a scary event in itself indeed. I hope I survive the dinner. Provided she cooks something edible.

For those whom it may concern: I have upped the protection of certain living areas I frequent. Try to wander in aimlessly and you get so warped you end up in psych ward.
And I shall enjoy it immersely.

____________________________
Leave with the first light, go when you still see the moon.
Run for the sunlight, gate is now open for you.
Lost in the sunlight, leave, you will not see the moon.
Walk for the first time, no one has waited for you...

"When owls call the breathless moon
In the blue veil of the night
The shadows of the trees appear
Amidst the lantern light"

Not mine. Loreena's.

I've officially finished my thesis.
The three copies are in the tender care of the faculty (2) and the bitches in the office (1).
The sun is shining, I was sunbathing (admittedly for a short bit, since I don't like sunbathing, but my skin wants it), and I'm... a nervous wreck.

So: first was sleep. (Or it was second, and sunbathing was first...) Now there's some cold pear juice in the fridge, and I shall watch some Weiss Kreuz. There's nothing like Shu and Farf to calm down my poor nerves.
And then cooking. >.< But at least my folks will be away this weekend. Which is good. Hello, GW! And lotsa anime! Wheeeee! (for now)

Correction: lotsa painkillers and alcohol. It had to be today of all days. Aaaaaargh.

Some guy I've never met and said he was a neighbour just came and asked for a not too moderate amount of money. Just like that. He said he knows my parents and that they would do that for him...
Now what the hell would you do then? Told him my mom will be back soon, and that I have no money on me. (It's not nice to beg money off of a uni students anyway.)

Oh, news: mom came home, turns out she never saw that guy before - ever. Now that really trew me for a loop. Gahh. I would have kissed my money goodbye. Good thing I called my mother.

One half ready. Wooot! Too bad another half still remains unwritten, and then comes editing and... gahh... too tired to think.

Went to the doctors today. My recurring illness came back again, surprise, surprise. He was still as cute as ever. He's a grandpa, and really old, but he's the nicest doctor ever, and he actually knows what he's doing. I really really like him. He's the best! Too bad he can't cure me for life.
Sigh... And he always asks me how I'm doing, and what my boyfriend status is. He always jokes about the usual "if I were 30 years younger...". Yup, he's cute, but alass, no dates with him. :D If only he were 30 years younger... :P
But nah, he'd be too kind for my liking. But still, he was the first doctor who didn't think about me as a pin cushion, and just because of my daddy is a diabetic, he's not sending me to take my blood sample and check my blood sugar every month. I had a doctor who did that, even when I'm not diabetic, but he blamed all symptoms of my illness on the nonexsistent diabetes. Can you say asshole? I sure can.
But this guy... he actually looks over the results and he figured out what my problem was. No diabetes. Duh. He didn't send me to be a nice pin cushion anymore. For that I already like him beyond all imagination.
After all, I hate needles.

Plant check: all alive, save for one: a rose that got infected with some strange plant-virus last summer. It seems that it couldn't be saved. The other rose seems to be ok.
The spices are growing well, enjoying the sunlight. Lemongrass is growing exceptionally well, and the mint is straing to grow out of the half-dead wretched state I bought it. They are feeling quite good so far.
My bonsai tree strated growing leaves again - he is the kind of tree that strats it late in spring. But he seems to be alive as well, as the others.

Since my long-time illness started to act up again, I will go to the doctor tomorrow. When I was making the appointment, the new, young assistant (a guy) started flirting with me. Poor sod, he must have been bored out of his skull, and quite desperate. Just this once I was nice to him.

Update on essay: 1/3 ready. I'm too tired to do anything, but will have to. Ouch.

Creative stuff: last night I had sewn a pair of lacey, fingerless gloves. They look pretty. I might add a photo if I have the time. They are quite long, btw. Long and comfy. ^^
Now I just have to get around to writing that sodden essay.

Today, the strangest thing happened (not mentioning all the stuff that pissed me off). I was walking on the sidewalk (construction work making it a bit difficult), going from my uni to the jeweller, who's still sitting on my ring, damn him... And a guy just comes up to me out of the blue, lets me pass the construction work, because there is only place for one person to pass, takes off his hat, bows, and asks me out. On a date.
I muttered something about thanks for letting me go first, and hurried past. This, or I'd have punched him. Sure, he was nice, and all, but I'm certainly not the girl you just walk to and ask for a hot date. If someone thinks it's perfectly normal, there's something wrong with his head. Not to mention that I prefer to be talked up first. Asking for a date out of the blue sounds foolish and disgusting...
Shoulda told him that, but I was kinda stunned. C'est la vie.

Started watching House MD season 3 a few days before. And now, that I'm at episode 9, I'm annoyed as hell.
Why? Because a little, no-name policeman can seemingly kill the spirit of a whole hospital. He's even intimidating the boss! Which is just stupid. They surely have cured a policeman or two during their career, and they surely have benefactors among higher ups (prolly not police, but govt. works the same). So this is stupid. No matter how, they still should have someone to turn to to take care of that policeman's bullying.
Argh!

Right, first things first.
Hair cut off. Still long, but way shorter. People say it suits me.
Linked Floss the Very Secret Diaries of Tolkien's characters.
Drinking warm milk now, and contemplating life, the universe, and everything.
I want more milk. I could make cocoa... Quite possibly I lack calcium.
Enjoying short hair. Not in wind, but hey, it's still splendid. Only took one hour to wash it and dry it. Wheee!
Listening to bellydancing music, trying to get used to the not-really-familiar rythm, since I'll have to know, how to move to it.
Whoever's slipping me caffeine should just go and die. I need sleep.

I adopted a Naruto chibi! ^.^



Name: Gaara

Likes: playing with sand

Dislikes: nasty people

Owner: me, of course

Click here to adopt your own Naruto chibi!

My hair (if wet, since it's curly) is reaching my hips. Right now I'm thinking about cutting it. I mean it would be easier to manage... but I love my hair dearly, and I love it long. I mean I would love to keep it long, but it's so much more handy to keep it shorter.
I was thinking about a below-shoulder length cut... I'll prolly have my mother do it, since she's good in this, and she'd kill me anyway if I didn't let her do it instead of me or a hairdresser. And since I dislike hairdressers on a general scale...
Still, I'd love to be able to decide, what to do. I mean I always miss my hair if it's cut, and I'm always wishing I'd have cut it short when I have to wash it or it's just bothering me, or getting in the way. Or just plainly catches on something, as usual.
Gahhh. I'm having a nervous breakdown because of my hair. How pathetic is that?
Still, I'm female, so I'm allowed that much.
Help?

Yesterday I've seen El Laberinto del Fauno (Pan's Labyrinth in English).

The movie for me felt like a distasteful blend between the violent depiction of the 2nd World War and a depressing, grim, boring fantasy world with the limited imagination of a grown-up, who never thought about faeries and magical worlds that much, and was having his first try.

I was asked, why I didn't like the gory details and all that blood, because usually I'm all over bloody massacres in anime. I thought about it a bit, and after a good night's sleep I came up with the answer.
I do not like violent depictions of war (with living actors), because they are killing innocent bystanders, and I throw up from seeing much blood, because my imagination reacts to it, and my body thinks it's real. While in animes bloody massacres are ok, since what I watch do not concern innocent bystanders. I don't watch anime with characters white and black, I prefer shades of grey. (*Cough* Black Lagoon *cough*.)
Not to mention, that I've tamed my body as not to recognize anime blood as real. So now I don't have the going green and looking for the first toilet problem with that anymore. But I still have it with real, living actored movies.
Sigh.

Actually... never mind.

Oh, and I did create a wallpaper. Usual colours, nice brushsets.
Here's the link: http://www.ringo.com/photos/photo.html?photoId=199391155

Oh dear. I have so much to do, and I'm panicking as usual...
But all I can think about is that it's time to change my windows wallpaper again.
I'm kinda bored of the butterflies and the sparkles ans stuff, so I was thinking about going back to some anime themes.
Of course, I would opt for Berserk, but the decent ones are of Griffith, and there is no way that I'd use his ugly mug as a wallpaper unless he is about to get killed once and for all, with lotsa blood and gore. And there are no cute ones of Gutts... or even Farnese or her little brother.
Then I considered Akabane-san, but I couldn't find a wallpaper of him to my liking, and then came the idea... Farf or Schu would do.
But still, I will have tocreate a wallpaper, because I have... different tastes...
Yeah, it's so pathetic. I really should write my thesis, but at least it helps my thinking process.

So I guess it's either Farf, or Shu, or both. Teehee... -.-;

Annoying the hell out of me hurts god.
Farf says so too.

I was so immersed in looking for some Outher Gods stories for my thesis, which, as I mentioned below, will be about Lovecraft's God Pantheon (as in the cute lil' tentacled Cthulhu and his buddies)...

...that I left the stove on, and when I realized that my food was still cooking and ran there...

....I found that. ^^
Would you believe me if I told you that it was hot-dog sausage?

I'm getting a bit annoyed. The "bitches in the office" as I call them, told me that the dead-line on my thesis is the 30th of March. They the secretary of the English faculty told me the dead-line was the 15th of March, which is a national holiday, so it is in reality the 14th of March... and then she told me that she was confused, so no, there is no decided deadline now...

So here I am on the 21st of February about to change to topic of my thesis (thanks for my teacher, who forgot to tell me that she was pregnant, and so I had to run now and get all things done one month before the supposed deadline...), and... maybe I don't even have a month to get my hands on the books and criticism needed to complete a 40-60 pages long essay.

Btw, it is bloody hard to get hold of English literature in Hungary, unless it's the usual must read stuff like Wuthering Heights or Jane Eyre, and utterly impossible to find criticism in English, of English books. Ordering books takes at least a month, so ha-ha, very funny of them.

Finding Lovecraft in English might work if I get lucky, but finding any kind of reviews or criticism... I have no chance whatsoever.

Watch this and cry as I did.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fJuNgBkloFE&mode=related
...This level of stupidity just astonishes me.
And they have all the means to kill!
They have nuclear weapons!
They have power!
All they lack is the most vital and most important component: a BRAIN.
I shudder to think that one day they might kill us because they think we are the middle-east. Do YOU feel comfortable with this?

Buzz, buzz

I give up, I don't understand.
Guys just... like me. On GW, they just start to talk to me and well, it does not matter, that I tell them that I have a horrible personality, lotsa temper issues and am being pessimistic (added after Edem spit that little insult in my face, that I'm sooooo very pessimistic and make people feel bad - sure... still, I'm quite all right, thanks very much and my friends don't seem to care so... well, never mind)... they say: "oh you are so funny, I like you!"... And they do!

*desperate scream*

Don't get me wrong, I'm watching these people with a certain horrified astonishment, because I know who I am, I warned them fair and square... and they still like me. And I honestly dunno why.

Oh well... As long as they do, we can get along.
And on a happier note: Maya stopped trying to flirt with me. Yaaaaay! ^^

"The closet pervert lost? Who is that open pervert?"
/Naruto/

I've watched Saikano just now.
It was... different.
At first, it looked like some high-school love story, then it went mecha, then strange and stranger still... It was sad. A very bleak future, and... something I'd never name as my favorite anime. Still, it calmed me down. Strangely, it was something I needed after the exams to make me calmer. A bit.
The ending was a bit... well, kinda in Evangelion-style. Might watch it too.
I just... wanna calm down, because things are getting a bit strange around me.
Got to sign up for a few classes, should write my thesis and... well, talk with the other teacher to assist me with it, since the teacher I got assigned to with my thesis is on a maternity leave.
Sigh.
I shall decide what I should write about... I mean dear Howard Philips' god pantheon is... just a good beginning for an idea... *goes off and ponders about this*

Oh and yes. That Howard Phillips. As in Lovecraft.

Ok, something really changed my dad. Dunno what it was, but he's really acting like a grade A asshole. I think I'll have to try to lift a curse or two off of him. And I hope it was a curse, or I'll be cross. And he'll stay an asshole.

I think a fuck you all, in general, sideways and from any pose is in order...

So: Fuck you all, in general, sideways, from any pose!

It's hilarious! One of the Amp officers hit on me... is hitting on me still. He was such a high and mighty one... well, just mostly diplomatic, and now he's all over me because I... well, to be honest, I don't have a clue as to why.

Most probably he just needs to get laid, soon and badly. I mean I'm just a female player as far as he knows. He doesn't know my boob size or anything else about me.
And it's not like I treated him like a love interest or even talked to him much... A greeting and a few words at best one time... That was all.
Ha! Sucker!

And he was such a nice guy... I even liked him in the friendly sort of way, because he was cool, collected, diplomatic and as slimey as the average politician. And I like that type. (Ha! Me, sucker!)
And then he goes and does something like this...
He's like a loser, a clingy guy from a concert... or a chatroom... Well, I don't go to that many chatrooms, just the usuals, where my friends sit and talk about stuff... Computers, anime, how they hate the uni, how they just hate stupid people... But there are always newcomers who jump you as soon as they realize that you are female.

Funny thing... people always think I'm male too. I even got a girl bugging and jabbing and generally annoying the hell outta me till she realized that I was female. Then she had a hissy fit.
That's when I realized that she had a crush on me while she thought that I was male...
Gosh... people are funny sometimes.

Well anyway. I'll go, try my luck at the exam, come back, sleep for a few days and then... get about living my life. *shrugs* I'll have to find some pretty clothes for March too. ^^

Ok, the stress is taking a bit too much out of me.
Whoever is an asshole and won't take this into consideration can just go and drop dead for all I care.

And I really dunno how much more I can take of Terra, since he is bugging me with stuff, is generally too bloody excited and always there whenever I manage to fight myself online for a bit. He reminds me too much of a certain someone who just tried (nearly successfully) to fuck up my life, my friendships and generally cause me a mental breakdown, since he attempted to do all this in the middle of my exam period.
I really hope that Terra will change, or I'll scream "Shut up, Edem!" at him one of these days. ^^;

"Over beer the bird
of forgetfulness broods,
And steals the minds of men;"
/Edda/

LOL

Okééé, ez kezd kissé bizarr lenni.
Úgy értem ok, hogy ha valaki külföldi, és meglátja az árakat, az örül hogy olcsó, de hogy fogja magát és az operában a legdrágább jegyeket vegye meg, nos az a padlóra küldött. Nem mintha nem élvezném... ^^
De hogyan találok magamnak megfelelő ruhát? Úgy értem, ma voltam egy rohadt hosszú bevásárló úton, és nem találtam semmit, csak trendi vackokat és olyat, ami gyönyörű, de rohadtul nem megy rám.
Kénytelen leszek megint elmenni a vizsgaidőszak után. Brrr.

Aaaaaarrrrrgh!

“Learn from yesterday, live for today, hope for tomorrow.”

I think I've got the hoping part down pat. And about the learn from yesterday... I'm still trying. ^^

Like... ouch. Razors do cut, I do have to remind myself of that fact again.
After the initial blood loss I promised myself that I'll have to use wax the next time. If I can bear the pain, that is.
...but I really don't wanna... ;_;

I think I have no choice... I'll have to do it.
There are lots of ways, of course, but... well, there are only 2 ways of which I can choose from.
And in my opinion the razor is the less painful one.
Of course, many people would argue me about choosing the razor, but hey, I hate painful solutions and ... it's a bit late to do anything else about it. Even if it's not the best solution, because I know it isn't.
So razor it is.

What goes around, comes around.

Wowzers... that kinda fits... :D

Heheh. A (probably ex-)friend of mine bemoaned that they felt that all their friends abandoned them. (Yes, "they", "them", because I'm not gonna give away the gender. I'm sooo secretive, just so that I'm not giving away the person, unless I want "them" to flood my blog with hate-mail... har har. And of course that I can say: you? Oh gosh, no, never! And stare innocently. :D)
And it's so very funny. Said ex-friend says this after they betrayed one of those friends, drove me away for not sharing the same point of views (or maybe for something more this friend felt best not to share with me like many things, and why I'm still feeling a lot betrayed by this person), and after I did not make my friends chose between us, as much as said friend wanted that to happen. ... The most funny thing is: I discussed it with my friends and they would have chosen me, but I took pity on that person's sorry arse, and decided not to start a war and make my friends uncomfortable for taking sides.
Of course I felt like crap for days when I did withdraw to make said ex-friend comfy, and I was very much alone, but there were friends who took sides without any ulterior motives, or without me even talking to them and telling them about all the mess, and it felt wonderful to have them with me. It's partly thanks to them that I didn't fall into little pieces.

And then comes this ex-friend of mine, who has most of my old friends and lotsa people around them, and bemoans that they feel soooo alone, and how utterly, devastatingly, sorrowfully horrible it is... that one person chose me over them. It makes me puke. Can you spell hypocrite? Because that's what my ex-friend is. A nasty, fat hypocrite.
Betraying, driving away and hurting friends... is not what a friends does. Usually, before saying "I'm so very sorry, could you forgive me?" or giving a bloody good reason. Only a hypocrite cries when they are not even abandoned for things they committed.

Still, nice try. See if I bloody care above making sarcastic comments and laughing my arse off.
You never cared about me, asshole, and I'm above caring for your sorry arse now.
I left you my friends, you better go and have fun with them and shut up about all that crap, or I go there and I do take them away this time. Got that, you... you bitch?

...

How I would start this post is something along the lines of "oh woe me...". But it would be boring and useless. Of course it's unfortunate to have exams like these, where you will be bullied around by a lot of sorry buggers, to whom the only fun is to torture students with extra hard exam questions, so that they will have a horrible time. I should be sorry for them instead. Even I know how to have fun better. Way better.

So... what I shall do now is buy a pack of cigarettes, dig out a new asthma inhaller, pore over my notes from early in the morning till I go to sleep... And I just might pass. There is really nothing else to do. I have to swallow this. After all, schools teach us new teachers that the authority of teachers have been decreased and the students are the important ones.
Funny thing is, that when you are an university student, you have no rights whatsoever to open your mouth and protest to unkind handling - because your teachers have all the rights, and when you are a teacher, though I've only been a student teacher so far, it seems that you have no rights whatsoever again.
Thereas comes the question: who has the rights then?
The appropriate answer: not you. No matter who you are, you just don't get close enough to any kind of power. Feel frustrated? I damn sure do.

Uh-oh, my daddy is angry. He has no idea how hard an exam like this grammer one is. It has syntax, phonology, linguistics, history of the language and att the stuff between... the topics of 5 semesters. And they always ask the nastiest questions.
So... I just honestly don't care about his far-fetched idea of studying paying off, these bastards fail people just because they feel like it will be all right because they have memorized the whole lot of textbooks... I just wanna pass after a few tries. That's all.

Ok, this is freaky. It's so warm in january as in April. No snow at all, no nothing... just sunshine, warm weather and flowers. Flowers in witer!
It's 18°C here! Usually it's below zero. Seriously... this is crazy!

Seriously... what is it with gay people? The usuals are so shy they get all blushy when I pose the question of top or bottom. Just for preference, so that I can help them meet the appropriate people.
And then there is this guy... He doesn't even get scared that we go to the same uni, he is flaunting it! Course he has flowing black hair, a goatee, he wears a bit of jewellery (modest amount), expensive clothes, he is the raggedly good-looking type (I'd even get a crush on him if he were my type - I like the tall dark haired ones preferably with a fascinating brain and... well, a hawkish nose... I'm really into the big noses...), and he actually looks too good to be true (depends on preferences), and we just started talking a few weeks before, and there, smash in the face he tells me he's gay. (Big suprise there... I should have known! I mean all those little clues... He complimented my clothes... guys just don't compliment, they stare... around the breasts area.)

Well... can't say I wasn't warned, I mean very few staright guys read Anne Rice novels (thank the gods that Mark is hetero)... And then he starts launching the heavy stuff. He just up and starts telling me how he got is most wonderful masturbation experience while reading Lasher. Ye gods, I did not sign up for this! I mean I'm not getting my kinks from guys masturbating on reading Lasher.
I mean, my trouble is that I barely know him, and here he is, pouring out for my ears his masturbatory experiences... Who the fuck is interested? Ok, he's gay, I have relatively little trouble with that, I would have much more if he were my type, but he only falls in the black haired category, and I have someone else I like anyway.
So, how dare he dropping on me all his sexual frustrations, making me frustrated in the "I want to strangle that tactless idiot" sense in turn?
Yuck yuck yuck, I do not want to think about what masturbatory things Lasher can offer. Definitely not. Oh gods, I think I'll go and throw up.

One exam over, countless to follow.
I'll have an important linguistic exam, and... I'll need help to pass it. And I really mean help. I'll be bled to death before I finish the uni. ^^

What more? Ah yes, I can wear less jewellery around my wrists, seeing as my scars are nearly invisible. Of course, I know where they are, and... well, those who know where they are can see them, but if you are not searching... you'd never know they are there. Jolly good.

Well, yes, I did many things, and I never asked people to pity me. I would like my friends to remember... Course it's not gonna happen. They either flock me with useless pity, or look at me and say: oh, disgusting.
Still, even if I know how to use a knife, at least it was always a conscious decision. I can at least say, that I remember everything, I control everything (as cutting one's self and doing other "mean" or "bad" things to one's body is always considered to be about control, which is the case with me without any doubt...), and I don't black out.
I considered creating myself another personality as something not required. Of course I am prone to mood swings and feel like I could chose from several personalities, but hey, at least I don't posess several individualistic personalities.

I am doing things because I have issues about control, as in, I need more. What those who have several personalities do, is placing the blame on someone else, looking for a way out. What I'm doing right now is striving to survive, and trying to get my life back in control.

And yes, I have control issues. Like nobody ever noticed before. Duh. Having the hots for a vulcan, and naming him my role model when I was young should have clued people in.

Anyway, for those whom it concerns: I am a control freak. Don't mix me up with those who want a scapegoat. We are on the opposite ends of the spectrum. Still, it does not mean I feel superior to those who have multiple personalities. I just feel that I would be unable to do it. We have different needs as far as I can tell. Gimme a few years, and I might change my mind. Or will that be we then? :D

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.