long time no see

Haven't written in quite a while. It's been quite hectic and a lot of stuff has happened. None of which I'm going to talk about right now. Well, ok, there's ONE thing I want to share. A while back (not very far back at all, in fact) I was seriously considering therapy because I needed it and I probably still do. BUT: I think, for now, there's no better therapy than taking care of two dogs - one with abandonment issues and a puppy with "I wanna eat all the time and chew on everything, including your toes, your hair, my older brother's ears, etc." issues. I don't mind the waking up at 2:30 in the morning (well, probably because I'm not the only one taking care of dem babies, but that's beside the point, ahem), I don't mind following the little bugger all around the house to catch him in the act of peeing (and more) wherever and whenever the fancy strikes, I don't mind the diaper duty. In fact, I am thankful. The doggies give me the opportunity to think about something else than whatever new fear or complex I might develop and to feel kinda useful and all that good stuff that makes you feel good about yourself. So thank you, babies. You rock my world. And as it turns out, there's one more thing that I consider important enough to share, because it's both made me a better person (God, at least I hope so) and taken quite a load off my mind. Over the years, as it happens, that big group of friends you think you have gets smaller and smaller, and maybe through no fault of your own. Nothing new, we've all been there and as unpleasant as it might be, you just can't help it sometimes. So of course, that happened to me as well, a falling out here, a bad breakup there, you know, the works. And at some point in my recent life, I had a dream about the falling out and decided to make peace, hoping the other party feels the same and that we shall all live happily ever after. Long story short, it worked. And even though maybe it wasn't the most important thing in the world and it didn't hold me back and made my life all that miserable, it did bug me when thought about it. And when I fixed it, it felt good. Which goes to show that sometimes, even if it takes a dream to give you a little push, if you feel something is right, you should do it for yourself, if nothing else. And, as a friend told me, the secret is to have low expectations. I wouldn't normally agree with that, but when it comes to people, experience (not extremely vast, but the only one I got) has showed me that when it comes to people, it's best to just take it with a grain of salt. Healthy approach. Hard to follow, too, but hey, a little challenge never hurt anyone :) Anyway, before I forget what I was talking about, in a few days, I managed to restore two relationships - not to the factory settings, but at least I had some closure, for lack of a better word. And got my groove back, to boot, but that's another story for another time - maybe tomorrow, maybe never, we'll see :)

Tootles :)

bounce

now I've thought about it some more, listened to some music (a lot), watched some videos, the works, and I realized that one thing I would've loved to do and I'm sorry I didn't pursue, was dancing. I don't mean going to the disco on a Saturday night dancing. not ballroom, either. the 'step up' 1, 2, and gazillion kind of dancing. the rebel school outlet dancing. I kinda think it's a bit late to take it up at 37 going on 38. what I'm even more pissed off at myself for is that I haven't even done the Saturday night disco dancing in a VERY long time. I used to, and some very cruel person laughed at me and made me feel very self conscious. I shouldn't have let her screw with my head that way (and many other ways) but I did. and then I gained some weight and I thought I'd just look ridiculous there on the dance floor and everyone would look at me with pity because I'm awkward. and every time there was a dancing situation I'd be so stiff and try to control every move I made that I'd end up being exhausted and completely unsatisfied. I have to change that. along with every other change that I have to put myself through, this is definitely on the list, way up there. build my self confidence. just lose the weight first :)
I know that really hasn't got anything to do with dancing, but it does with my confidence.

the way to my happy place

oh, and before i forget: i love you the bestest and the mostest! :)

project

vintage, retro, chic, quirky, colorful, peaceful, friendly, cozy, filled with music and scents.
old photos on the walls, an aquarium with pretty fish, lots of books.
a place where I would love to spend every single day. a place that feels like your own living room.
lots and lots of amazing tea. and non-smoking, if we can help it. catchy name. smiling faces.

House. No, not the doctor.

I think everyone should get at least one chance in a lifetime to change something about their life. No matter how small. If we can do it better, we should be able to rewind, erase and start over.

If I got my chance, I have to say I'd do a complete makeover, or at least just go back in time and erase some people from my life and be good, be better, be the best to the ones that really matter. But since that's not really possible, I should probably pick one thing that I really can do something about. Something tangible.

I choose my house. My home. It's not that I don't like it, it's just that it doesn't contain nearly as much color as I'd like it to. I'd fill it with beautiful things, quirky things, old things, flowers, scents, laughter and joy. And I'd want it to reflect exactly the way I feel, which would be incredibly happy and peaceful. I know it sounds like I kinda wanna be Snow White and the only thing missing is the animals and a Evil Queen. Well, perhaps only the animals, if I think about it. The world is pretty full of evil queens :) Actually, the animal part can really be arranged if I do get my wish.

There are so many beautiful things in the world that are just waiting to be discovered. I've probably said it before, but I'll say it again: I'm a late bloomer. On the other hand, though, it doesn't matter how old you are when it comes to making your life the way you feel it should be, to make you happy.

So this is my quest. The perfect house. Perfect for me and my loved one(s) :)

If I had a choice, this is what I would do for the rest of my life. I might have not thought this through, but here it is. I would never, ever EVER work in an office again. I don't like human interaction all that much. Well, not when they're assholes, anyway, which is what I've been dealing with for a very long time. I want to work in a place that's relaxed, I want to work in a place with no deadlines, a place that smells nice, is relaxed and makes you feel good. Something with books, something with perfumes, something with lots and lots of tea. Something with intelligent, conversation-worthy people, whom you talk to because you want to, not because you have to. I would like to learn something new. I haven't learned something new in a very long time, and that's nobody's fault but mine. The reason why I haven't done it is a little word we like to call complacency. I've been ok with what I was doing and I when it stopped being ok, instead of moving on or trying to learn something new, I got scared, angry, frustrated, which led to me being really, really tired. And then I did my best to just stay under the radar and not think of anything else, not do more than I had to. Survival mode. That, of course, didn't work. I'm a drama queen, as well as prone to going from relatively nice and pleasant to angry bitch in less than a minute, sometimes less if I don't like your face.
Anyway, I digress. The point is, I got rid of that. Now I'm up in the air and have to will myself to learn something new, something, preferably, that I like. But first, I have to think long and hard about what it is that I do like. And what I see myself doing. So: perfumes, tea, lots of books, aromatherapy, plants, even listening to people and maybe giving advice, but that's a bit unsafe since I'm a bit off at the moment and I should probably take care of my own problems first.

What I need right now is to feel safe, pressure-free and fear-free. And that's a lot. But I might be able to pull it off. After all, I've left a lot of my bad life behind. All I can look forward to, really, is happiness and dreams come true. And as much as I want it to be a gift sent to me from heaven or waiting on my pillow when I wake up, it's not gonna happen. I have no choice. I have to start living and taking chances. So this is me, giving myself that extra (but positive) kick in the butt.

There, I said it.

Faith No More - I Started a Joke

leaving

funny thing when you leave. anywhere. not funny ha ha, just funny.

first of all, it's a huge step, this leaving from one place to another. might not sound like much, but sometimes it does take everything you've got to just get up and leave. anyway, more to the point, what I'm talking about is taking your whole life, with all of its stuff, and all of yours, putting them together and hoping they'll match, and just moving forward to a whole new place. that's it, as far as you're concerned.

then comes the funny part. case in point: when I left, I had this avalanche of love and good wishes and all the great thoughts one could ever wish for thrown my way by people I used to spend a lot of my time with. too much, even – in some cases. it's all tears and swearing we'll keep in touch and pledging that if you ever come to my city, please be sure to give me a call and we'll meet and we'll reminisce and it will all be great and fun, like you never left in the first place.

and then I got there. I got to my new place, my whole new place, with whole new people, a whole new language I don't really understand – but that's ok, I'm taking a break from the overwhelming cloud of shit people talked all around me – which, unfortunately I did understand.

and I wanted to share the good things in my life, right? because they all said they were gonna expect my letters, my emails, my calls and they were all so happy for me. and I shared.

what did I get back? with a very few notable exceptions: nothing. not a thing. not a hi, glad everything's fine, can't talk, busy, but be sure to keep in touch, tootles. not even that.

and I thought, ok, no problem, I'm not busy, but they are, I know they are, life is pretty hectic down there, after all, that is, in part, why I left. maybe they'll write later, whenever they can.

most of them never did. never said anything. never called, never wrote.

which begs the question: did they ever care? I'm inclined to say that they did, but can I ever be sure?

I'm not sad, not really, just a bit disappointed. this leaving thing sure helps you prioritize and comb through your circle of friends and find other names for some of them.

hmm. indeed.

Muse - New Born

different is good, new is better

it's so different to wake up in the morning without any fear that something might go wrong at work (or elsewhere) today, that someone's going to come to you and push that last button that will make you either burst into flames or spill blood – not your own. i'm exaggerating, of course, but the point is that freedom is sweet and even though i wasn't a firm believer in the change the place, change your luck theory, i'm starting to feel like they might be on to something with that particular one.

it's fun. oversleeping when you work from home, working in your pajamas, taking as many breaks as you want and not going out just to get away from it all or eating lunch on your keyboard while answering the phone just to talk to people who don't really care that ...well, who don't really care about anything other than themselves.

it's so refreshing not to see everyone around you running and running and having that look of exhaustion and despair firmly imprinted on their faces, all wrapped up in a good package of corporate discipline and carefully set goals which they keep checking, one by one, while not an ounce of happiness appears to make up for their accomplishments.

this is a beautiful place. i'm sure it has all i need to go back to my old self, or, even better, to a new self. a new self that loves itself. a new self that's serene, beautiful and happy, one that can heal itself, should anything happen, or just get rid of any of the old junk it's been carrying around for so many years.

i want a new body, a new soul, a new mind that's open to new things.

i want a new me.

i know that's probably not necessary and not even possible, but i really feel that in some way or another, i'm on the right track.

so here's to a new life and a brave new world!

grey hey hey

This is one depressing city. Grey, mad, sad and fucked up at the best of times. Of course, there ARE nice places, but they're doing their absolute best to tear those down, one by one, day and night (mostly night, because they're sneaky fuckers that way), and every damn day you wake up to find another ruin, another pile of debris, another gap in the universe. We're a sorry lot, that's what we are. I need color, people. I am color. Every fucking day I go to work surrounded by a bunch of lemmings in black or grey suits, wearing the same expression of resentment and resolute exhaustion. I have decided. To the best of my ability, I will soon stop being a corporate fuck. Not that I am that, entirely, because I've stopped believing a long time ago.

Ahh. And it's so good to start seeing colors.

mind-blowing shit - i want tickets to this

help?

I know I’ve talked about this before, but I really think I need some help and I don’t know how to go about it.
How do I get over my fears? I know: face them. But how do I get over the fear of facing them in the first place? I seem to be utterly incapable of even thinking about some things without triggering an intense physical reaction that numbs and paralyzes me.
What do I do?

The tear whisperer

You would think that all men are equipped with the same quantity of tears. What with all men being considered equal and such. Over the years, however, I came to the realization that yours truly, of all people, seem to have an inexhaustible source, because believe you me, I use them tears quite liberally, and I never seem to run out.

I guess most people cry when they’re sad. Some also cry when they’re deliriously happy (there’s also some sort of squealing involved in most of such cases, but I digress).

Well, no, not me.

I cry when I’m sad, I cry when I’m happy, I cry when the sun don’t shine from the right angle, I cry when I’m frustrated, I cry when I watch movies, I cry watching cartoons (some, ok?), I cry when I do nice things for other people and I realize I’m actually a wonderful person, I cry when I develop scenarios of nice things that I could do (but never actually get to the point of doing)…. Let’s just say I cry a lot.

And whoever tells you that crying ain’t contagious, doesn’t know what the fuck they’re talking about. Miss C. almost predictably gets runny-nosed and puffy-eyed when she so much as hears me sob. IN THE DARK. So there.

My question is this: what if I DO run out of tears just when I need them the most? When I really have something serious to cry about? What if I go dry to the point of complete dehydration just then? What will I do instead?

I shudder to think of the mad woman impression - , which I am now, and have been for so long, trying so hard to conceal - I will then, finally, begin to project.

Will keep you posted.

Sniff.

all i wanna do is

Would you be my Valentine?

Ok, first of all: not a big fan. Don’t really get it. I call it Ballantine’s Day, but that doesn’t really have any bearing on what my actual point is going to be.

Anyway, what I was going to say was this: why do people need ONE day in a year to celebrate their temporary/never-ending/cheesy/chaste/crazy/punch-drunk love in an over-the-top exhibitionist display? Why one day?

Getting to my point any second now.

I have a suggestion, in the shape of a question mark. How about celebrating your love for that special human being EVERY day, every minute, every second of a year, and then on that particular day when all of the others run around like headless chickens with little hearts on top, you just kick back, relax, have a beer and watch some old movies with your better half? Seriously, how much cooler is that? Because we got the love coursing through our veins; if it’s there, it won’t go away so easily, we have plenty of reserves that just get bigger and better with every new smile and every new hug we get from THAT person. It’s enough to go around, it’s certainly enough to cover 364 out of the 365 days of the year.

So how about it? Huh, huh?

life's little surprises

ahh...the incredible joy of being told, at 7:07 AM this morning, that I could go back to sleep, because it's Saturday...such a relief.

The shit we do when we’re drunk. Or in love.

I know I’m not alone in saying, with all the sincerity that I can muster, that when we get drunk or fall in love, our IQ drops exponentially and we pretty much forget everything that everyone’s ever told us NOT to do.

There’s also the unfortunate case when you’re in love AND you get drunk because the feeling’s not mutual and you don’t know any better. The desperate texts, the emotional blackmail – which never works, and even though you know it doesn’t, you conveniently choose to forget (it’s hardly a matter of choice, really, but still), the stalking, the harassment. Oh God, it’s all so humiliating.

What’s even more tragic is that after a while, when we cool down, when the madness passes, most of the time we realize that it wasn’t even worth it. That deity we worshiped is just another human being, just like us, maybe worse, and after all, as the saying goes, we all shit the same. He, he. I just threw that in there for good measure, things were getting a little too weepy.

Of course, as it so happens, to add insult to injury, most of the time we choose to act like idiots in public, as some sort of self-torture because of course exhibitionism also kicks right in. So more bad shit. If you’re really lucky, nobody takes pictures.

What we’re left with, after all that torment and all that drama, is one little question: what the fuck was I thinking?

Pedal to the metal

I hate speed. I don’t mean the drug. The kind of speed that makes everything whoosh right by when you’re driving (or when someone else is – even worse). I never got the fascination, the thrill, the hard-on about speed, I only got the fear. Yes, another fear, go figure.
Do you think there’s some kind of hypnosis-based therapy that could help me get over it?
I’d definitely like to try it.