"There ought to be a law that a guy has to leave a rose on your pillow to let you know he enjoyed the labor you put into his walk of shame."

A few days ago I found this tutorial by chance. Random browsing once again. And while I experimented with it for a while, I came up with this colour combo yesterday.

Waaay to colorful? Hell yeah. Am I gay? Nah, don't think so. :)

Hats

I wonder if I have posted about my babies. Nah, not real ones. Just my latest creations that took a looong while.

A hat for my dad for his birthday... (on my mom, because my dad is camera shy... as usual)

...and a hat just for me. Because I still love purple. Especially with greens.

Both are crocheted. By me. Both crochet patterns were done by me as well. Not the granny square tho, that's pretty much universal. But... the design is all mine. ^^ I'm proud!

Oh bugger

Well. I guess I got down to finally writing this post. But I still don't wanna.

Maybe I didn't want to write this because I'm still a bit numb about the whole thing or because I'm still waiting for a lot of test results... maybe I don't want to translate all that shit... or maybe I just don't want to accept the whole fucking thing. Or hell. Maybe I hate whining. (Ha, no. Well... depends.)

So anyway. What we (me and my docs) know so far:

• I have hormonal issues... major hormonal issues
• one of my ovaries is half the size of the other
• I have struma nodosa, aka goitre, small and not so small swells and knots in my thyroid, and there is a teeny tiny healthy bit left, which is not enough for anything
• the doc doing my ultrasound told me my thyroid looked very ugly... and that I should have a long talk with my doc about how to proceed
  
• still waiting for my blood test results
• still waiting for my ovarian cancer test results (really hoping for a negative)

So this is it in a nutshell. I'm scared shitless, I think. I don't really know what to do. I don't know what option to choose.

Glittergasm

I ordered a few bottles of nail polish on the 4th of December, as my dad's Christmas gift for me. (He paid, I picked what I wanted. Best idea ever.)

They arrived today. One bottle was a mix up. I ordered China Glaze's Snow Globe, instead I got Polar Ice. Similar look, bot not the same. Polar Ice has small, same sized glitter, Snow Globe has multiple sizes and denser glitter.

Last time I contacted the seller (on Amazon's marketplace) they took their sweet time answering. It took them 2-3 days and they didn't concern themselves with niceties... or manners, much. They were brisk and almost, but not quite rude. So this time I didn't write to them, I just put two stars in my review and told them I can't even send the bottle back to get the correct bottle as it'd cost me more than the bottle's worth.

Lo and behold, they answered me not 5 minutes after the review went up. A belated Christmas miracle, you say? Nah. I guess I got them by the proverbial balls. Anyway, they apologized, hell, they were laying it on so thick I could have been their only buyer (not true) and offered to send the bottle of Snow Globe over as gift. I accepted gladly. (Hey, I was a return customer, this was my 4th time shopping there and they were pretty damn decent so far... save for the time the bottle wasn't properly closed and some dribbled out, if you remember my post during the summer.)

Aaaanyway. Got my pretty nail polishes and gonna get my other one too. Yay!

I feel a little guilty for whining, and I don't feel I deserve that free bottle of polish (I would have agreed to buy it at half-price, or maybe some other polish), but my mother told me if people offer you stuff you accept them gratefully - and take them.

Happy New Year

Well. The new year kicked off with a blast. A blast from the past, to be precise.

I had a long, awesome talk with an old flame. Or maybe the. In many ways I still compare guys to him when it comes to being easy-going, badass and having excellent taste in music - if not clothing and hair products. No... really... not clothes. But he has pretty good taste in everything else.

Gods, I haven't even realized how much I missed him. He was... well, the guy who got the pop culture references, who liked the music I did, and some! ...and he was undisturbed by my hissy fits. Trust me, that counts as something. Something big! I can have hissy fits you can't ever imagine. :D

Anyway. Just talking with him for a few hours made me think that the guys I had, some friends I had since then... they were just pale shadows compared to him. You just can't find a guy with a wry sense of humor, knowledge in all jokes geek and all those pesky pop-culture references like his. He's just awesome. And he lifted my crappy mood like nobody else had been able to do for about a year.

That guy's a gem. And while I have no plans of begging myself back to dating, because god knows I'd drive him out of his ever-loving mind, or he would humour me no matter how annoying and impossible I am (which would be a bad, bad thing), it still made me a little wistful and nostalgic. But nah, we are still not compatible that way.

But hell. It was so good to have my friend back.

So Happy New Year to any and everybody. My new year had a few good moments already, and I wish for (a lot) more. :)

I give. I didn't mean to post here ever again, but after all, this is my main blog, and I don't want to be the kind of person who starts another and yet another blog whenever she gets backed into a corner.

So. What have I been up to all these days? Not much. Still, here are a few pictures of some of the creative stuff I made.

Eight of Cups

I have an uncanny knack for finding and getting close to people who don't give a shit about me in the long run. Happened before, happens to me every few years. (Remember Terra? I sadly do.) Or maybe I just don't have the knack to make men do everything I want them to.

Truth be told - I don't invest this much into anybody. Which is a damned shame, because this is what I must be doing wrong. If not, I'm out of ideas.

In either case I'm feeling a tad bit miffed, so I'm gonna undertake some new creative pursuits. I've never tried nuno felting for example, and by the price of the finished projects it might be a good idea to make it yourself.

So on monday I'm gonna hit the shops and ask about some chiffon and buy some special felt as well. And I will cherish the friends who still care about me.

Ummm... hi! I have nothing to say, really. How boring is that?

I blame Facebook and Goodreads. I read a lot these days. The Adrien English Mysteries is a hit for me. The first one was horridly cliché, but the second one... was much, much better.

Also, if someone knows by any chance the title of that fanfic with Garak and Bashir in the Mirror universe where Q shows the near future and Garak takes Bashir away from DS9 to some other planet to save his life...

I thought I had saved it, but no! I can't find it godsdamnit!

Oh yeah... now that I'm actually writing... Alas, I'm handling a translation. From English. I hate it. Why can't I get normal translation jobs? (Because normal jobs are grabbed up by everybody else and by the time someone, anyone thinks of asking me it's usually the shitties, most disgustingly sucky stuff that gets stuck in my hands.) It's some fluffed up sales bullshit with lots of shiny words and no substance. I am struggling and suffering - and I won't even be paid for these 3 pages! This is just the test run. I am... not sure this is worth it. Actually... I'll go ask how much they'd be paying me.

And yay, if I refuse, my dad will bitch at me because I "obviously don't want to work". As if I would love to translate phrases like "ships with broad product capabilities" and "proven real world performance with marquee clients across industries". Yep, just what I wanna do with my evenings.

Ghost Story

Blergh.

Worst. Book. Ever.

Compared to the expectations anyway. I mean hell, Butcher said he wanted 4 additional months to write it better.

After 5 pages I wanted to put it down. HARD. Like maybe trow it against a wall or tear it up.

I didn't. Not sure I shouldn't have. It drags on, is totally uninteresting, lacks the wit and sarcasm and fun that the other books had - the reason I was reading the series in the first place.

And then Butcher comes out and wants to push a name like "Ragged Lady" down my throat? As in sweet little Molly becoming a deranged, magical lunatic homeless vigilante/mass murderer thingy and calling herself "Ragged Lady". Uhm... yeah, right. I think Butcher needs to pull his head out of his roleplaying ass and look around himself, get reaquinted with the real world. Outside of Marvel people don't call themselves names like that with a straight face.

Jesus Christ almighty.

I dunno if it's sad or if Mr Butcher thinks that after 12 books he can feed us anything and we'll just lap it up. This book... plain hurts.

Just groovy

Good sex, a good book, and a smoke afterwards. Perfect.

Alas, before anybody gets a scare, I am doing some anger management, learning new relaxation techniques... and will move away soon. No reason to stay in a highly stressful environment or to make myself miserable.

My mom's newest hobby is to leave the doors open. The last week and during a few weeks before early this month, we had frigid, 15°C air outside. And crazy humidity. (I have asthma, humidity cramps my lungs. And I can't stand the cold. I always get sick.)

So she opens the window (or balcony door) in the room she is in, letting in the humid, 15°C air into the flat with the 25°C trapped inside.

She gets a kick out of irking me - making me close the doors behind her (so I won't freeze my ass off while staying indoors) gives her a rush. She tells me so. She smirks at me and taunts me. (Is this really what parents are supposed to do?)

For the last week I had to repress myself, as every time the above mentioned happened, I had pictures showing me pushing her head repeatedly into the wall. Or me breaking her fucking arms with a baseball bat.

No, I never owned a baseball bat and I don't even hit people. Especially my parents... not that m,y mother deserves any kind of respect, but still. In my culture it is not a proper thing to raise your hand against your elders, especially your parents.

But boy... the way she has been acting towards me I wonder when I will finally snap.

...moving?

Folks going away on holiday. Yipee.
Either way, seems like we clash more and more. Like... daily.

I'm gonna move away. I'll need a reinforced door, soundproof of course, and internet. I can live without a TV, telephone and video... but not without a PC and the 'net. Will be fun to carry it over. (The PC.) Ouch.

I'm still wondering what to do with Manó. No idea where to put his cage or where I could let him out to roam. No doors. Save from the bathroom door and the front door. If he so much as takes a bite out of my handmade Indian table, he is dead.

Also, I will need some heavy drapes for the bedroom. No door on that one and all noises from the hallway outside my front door (which is right in front of the bedroom doorway) reach directly into the bedroom. Yes, apparently a moron did that. I hope some heavy drapes would mute the sounds. That and a soundproofed front door.

I wonder if I could buy a washing machine for cheap. Something small and easy to use. I like washing machines that open on top. No reason to crouch and make a treasure hunt of finding the proper buttons to make it work.

New Polishes!!!!

My newest polishes. One of them was not packaged right, or more like they left it a tad bit open and it spilled. The nail polish remover removed the silver paint on the top too. Alas, they are still pretty!

Well, this will be another netless night. It's cold and Sunday to top it all off, so no party. I've already packed my overnight bag and getting slowly ready.

Words can't describe how tired I feel. Haven't been able to sleep properly for two weeks now. No idea why. And today I slept like 5 hours thanks to my mother. She's a bitch. Period. So I'm off to my flat without the net and the computer. It's not like I need it. Since the whole Cliff thing anybody that needs contacting can be reached by phone or by bus.

And I could bring my Kindle, I guess, but that'd mean I wouldn't study French. And I could really use this opportunity to study some French. Or I could call up my ex and see where things could go.

But frankly... I just wanna lay down and cry. Haven't felt this crappy in a long while. And it's not even the herald of my period. How cool is that?

Oh well. Time to go.

Update: in better mood but still tired. My dad begged me to come home. So not amused. My overnight bag was effin heavy and I was thinking of a nice, quiet evening with jazz and French books. Oh well.

On the top side I found an OPI stand in the mall (I was there to buy a hedgehog keychain that's pretty fucking impossible to find) and they had one last red shatter nail polish. Now it's mine. I also got a full-frontal view of my neighbour, shirtless. Dripping muscles. I wonder...

Amazon delivers!

Yep. My nail polishes arrived. See pictures for further reference.
So, from left to right: Zombie Zest, Ick-A-Body, Fairy Dust, Mistletoe Kisses. All of them China Glaze polishes.Also... today this was my manicure. Alllll day long. ^^

Flowers revamped

You probably know the 5 and 6 petaled flowers. I took the pattern for a spin. Nothing too fancy or anything, of course, but hey, it's summer!

Were The World Mine

...indeed.

I have issues with this movie being a musical, as it breaks up and interrupts the story, and it annoys me... but the lead guy has a very nice singing voice, so all is forgiven.

Otherwise, I liked it. Very cute, definitely something that doesn't feel like it's trying too hard. I mean try for example Inception. Yes, obviously different genre, but you come out of the cinema feeling totally out of sorts, and not in the good way. That was a "what the fuck did I just see and why did I pay for this shit?" feeling. This was the "awww, so cute, can I have a side of that?" feeling.

That and I am a huuuge sucker for A Midsummer Night's Dream. I remember I got an illustrated copy when I was way too young, barely able to read and didn't even know who Shakespeare was (before somebody starts throwing a tantrum, I'm not British nor American, so Shakespeare wasn't in the curricula for quite a while). And ever since then I was hooked.

So anyway... this is obviously a comedy. I'd say it's better than American Pie. Less shallow, definitely has a message and it's not crude. It's on a completely different level. And hot, obviously. ^^

"Remembrance fallen from heaven,
And Madness risen from hell,
Strength without hands to smite,
Love that endures for a breath;
Night, the shadow of light,
And Life, the shadow of death."

/Atalanta in Calydon - Algernon Charles Swinburne/