Fucking Boys

I know that was a title of a past post but it applies again. Me: Aw, it'll be nice living together again. Lovah: eh. Me: oh, you don't want to? Lovah: I don't know yet. Me: Well, it'll be nice living in the same city again. Lovah: oh yeah, I can't wait for that, it'll be so sweet. didja hear the part in the middle when my heart broke and my brain exploded? I tried to talk to him about it today, when he wasn't on his way to work, but he was sleeping. so now he knows I'm upset, and still, he had to sleep. now, I didn't want to push him--I was trying not to be a girl. but when he heard that I was upset shouldn't he at least TRY to make me feel better? shouldn't he have said "oh, baby, I'm sorry, I promise we can talk about it soon, I love you." or "oh man, okay, I'm awake, I don't want to lose you, let's talk now." or "april fools! of course I want to live with you!" but no, I get "mmf. luurve. bye." What the hell? what happened to the lovah who was freaked out by how in love he was with me? I know living together is like "a big step" but if he doesn't want to, it just means he doesn't feel as strongly about me normally than he does when he's jealous. and I can't even tell if that sentence made any sense or not. I'm going to annul the fact that we already lived together because I told him it didn't mean we had to live together forever. but now, when I'm asking (okay, i was assuming, but I've altered my assumption to a question and told him that) he doesn't know. what's not to know? what's there to think about? he loves me, he said so, he's gonna be at med school from 8 to 4 every single day and studiying every single night. why the hell would he want to sleep apart too? it doesn't make any sense at all! GODDAMN FUCKING BOYS! they are absofuckinglutely absurd! so here's what I'm gonna ask him: WHY? is it because of the open relationship thing? you're worried it would cramp our styles to live with someone? okay, kinda understandable, I can discuss that. is it because of the money? you don't trust me to be a good roommate and pay the bills and stuff? I'd totally understand, though it seems unlike you to think of such things. is it because I'm messy? because a) I've changed living in the cleanest country ever and b) you're not so clean yourself, you slob. is it because you don't want to "settle down" yet (I say settle down with my teeth as clenched as they can possibly be without breaking. spending time with me is never settling.)? well, if that is the case, you are an idiot. then I will say this: so it's a good thing we're in an open relationship because I'm free to look for someone who wants to live with me when I want to live with them. immature maybe, but I guess it's true. I mean, I proved that there are more people out there for me. English Gentleman may live in England, but we connected SO FAST and I bet I could make it work with him and therefore other people too. there are so many people I could "make it work with" and if he really does feel about me what he says he does, then he should want to make it work with me. it would be completely effortless because we actually REALLY ARE AMAZING TOGETHER. but if he sees it as difficult, then whatever, I guess I will have to deal with this gigantic weight I suddenly feel and the very painful knot in my chest. I know I'm gonna sound like Carrie a little right now, but why can't I have the kind of love where he would wake at 5am because he forgot to tell me a joke or just to look at me? I want him to get nervous around me. I want him to not believe his luck that he's with me and want to punch any other guy who wants me. I want him to like the fact that I call myself a princesse and not say he likes me in spite of that. I want him to want me, all the time. Is that so much to ask?

Jon Stewart and Memories

I had a sex dream about Jon Stewart. I had just gotten out of the shower and had a white towl on and he was lying in my bed topless. Although we were sharing a room and, apparantly, a bed, it was like, taboo that I went to lie down on top of him. It was a "we know it's wrong but it feels so right" moment. Those are the best. I live for those moments. So I lay on top of him, knees on either side of his hips, all the parts matching up, and curled my head into the nook. Not Carrie's Aiden's nook, but my lovah's nook. I either drifted into another dream or woke up. Either way, now I'm obsessed with Jon Stewart. Remember him with Gillian Anderson in Playing By Heart? That was a hot scene.

The wrong-but-feels-right-ness got me thinking of my born again boyfriend at the end of high school and something I wrote about him and read to him when he finally confessed he had feelings for me.

If our hands should wander
Your smile dissapears
My eyes fill with wonder
While yours fill with tears

I can't tell if it's cheesy, because it's so exactly true. All I wanted was to express what I was feeling for him physically (which is a nice way of saying that I was a horny, sex deprived, nerdy, smitten teenager), and all he wanted was to avoid that. The guilt and the fact that I was "corrupting" him made it that much more "wrong-but-right." I kinda feel bad now for pushing him. Not that we did much. He's married now.

Fictional Dreams

I just watched Save the Last Dance 2 (I'm not that much of a loser, Ijust wanted to see our friend from school...) and I'm angry. Not because of the offencively crappy acting, because of the plot. I didn't expect it to be good at all, I just thought it would be properly cheesy. But it was about art and performing, so I took it seriously. In case you haven't seen it, and I hope you haven't, the ballet chick goes to Juliard, as planned, and meets this guy who teaches history of hip hop. Okay,obviously, they're gonna hook up. We find out that the guy used to go to Juliard as a classical pianist. He loved it but ended up dropping out because his dream changed. He wanted to be a creative amazing dj. cool, fine, we get it. He finds out Sarah can dance and asks her to help him choreograph a peice. Reluctantly, she does and it's super cool. But then she gets the lead in the ballet. So he's all "but you can be so much more" and she's all "but I've always wanted to be a ballerina!" anyway, she ends up quitting fucking Juliard! She said she danced perfectly, got a standing ovation, closed her eyes and felt at peace. Then she felt numb. That's fucking bullshit. What all her love for ballet suddenly disappeared because her boyfriend wasn't there? It's balls! Ballet made her HIGH before, that would not go away because she also liked different styles of dancing. I thought that was the wrong choice for an ending. It should have been that the guy's dream changed and that's great, so he should support her dream too.

What a crappy movie. What a waste of time.

so so angry

I just wrote a really really long post that got erased due to crappy computerness.

here's what i remember:

I like sitting under willow trees looking out at Lac Léman.

I enjoy watching the ducks, seagulls and crazy swans in Lac Léman.

It would be nice to walk around Lac Léman.

On the other side of Lac Léman is Evian.

Evian spelled backwards is naive.

Sometimes I'm naive.

Sometimes I'm wise.

A "wizard" is just someone who is really really wise.

Merlin was wise.

I'd like to learn more about Merlin.

I've heard that Merlin lives his life from the end to the finish.

How do you do that?

I'd like to have magic.

I'd like to be able to fly.

"If I was a superhero who could fly and be invisible, that would be the best."


That's all I remember. oh yeah, and I said how I'm gonna change the phrase "building character" to "building coolness" because that's what they mean. I'm brimming with coolness. Coolness is reading and writing under a willow tree.

BitterSweet

Argh frustration! I should be allowed to have my lovah with me at all times! I'm so frustrated in so many ways! Okay, mostly sexually, but in so many sexual ways I'm frustrated.

I wrote a song about English Gentleman and told him that I wrote a song inspired by him and he wants to hear it. and I said he couldn't. and he said why not? and I said because I didn't think it was his kind of music. (I know his kind of music because he told me to listen to all these different cds but I couldn't really listen because I just got butterflies every time I did. and that's what the song is about.) then he didn't write back for three days but he did update his profile (and changed his picture to a really hot one of him topless) so he got my last message and didn't reply! that's just bad manners! especially to a girl in my situation, i.e. horny.

I can't stop thinking about your fingers on your guitar.
so long and lean I wanna be where those strings are.

okay, maybe I shouldn't play him the song because it's dirty...or maybe that's why I should play him the song... especially the chorus.

I listen to your music and it makes me wet
I try to focus on the songs but I forget
your cd looks so innocent upon the shelf
I listen to your music and I touch myself

yup, definitely never ever playing it for him.

That night is like a song I can't get out of my head.
Now all I think about is being back in your bed.
To compensate I have to date your music instead.

I hate this. I miss my lovah so so so so so much. even though I didn't write a song about him. oh wait, yes I did! haha! and it's good too. it's not dirty though, which would upset him, but whatever, it's cute and I like it. and I will play it for him. because we can tell each other everything, easy. or as the little girl says "fasscootch" which I think means "peice of cake." mmm cake. oh man, now all I want is cake...and there's some here, but it's not mine. oh man, I need something sweet.

At least I have theatre back in my life. Well, not at least, at best. I'm really excited about this cabaret and I can't wait to do it! I gotta go learn some songs! we're doing Don't Tell Mamma and Seasons of Love and Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy and Lady Marmalade where I get to be in the last group, the Christina group if you will, and be like the dirtiest. I hope the costumes are good!

type away

oh no. had so much to say, yesterday, the day before. saw erykah badu on sat, beautiful, absolutely fucking perfect. danced my heart out. got a crush on a girl in the opening band. she kinda looked like Neenia's best friend.

had rehearsal, danced my heart out, hung out with vancouverian who is awesome and funny and cool. we laughed a lot at the different kinds of ducks swimming in lac léman (lake geneva for the swiss ignorant), thinking about taking a week to walk around the lake, what's better than that. have the urge to be more of a hippie, more skirts, more sandals, more long hair, more camping, more drugs, more freedom, more let the sun shine. wrote some songs. beautiful day, love love love looking at pics on facebook. hate people asking me if i'm famous yet, no, have you heard of me asshole? you'll fucking know when i'm famous. so excited for rent. wanna explore, but wanna go home, wanna write, wanna sing, wanna eat, wanna get skinny like before, wanna be in england, wanna make out with either my lovah, english gentleman, or singer from opening band.

missing you all, wishing we could have weekly meetings instead of random unfixed blog reads.

ps please please please read a long way down by nick hornby. it's fucking incredible.

I Don't Know What I Wrote

woo hoo!!! I'm gonna perform again! I'm in a show called the Cabernet Cabaret! I had my first rehearsal last night and it's awesome because it's pretty professional (the atmosphere, it's non paying...) but I'm clearly the best. Well, so far, I've only seen half the chorus, so I'm the best out of them. We're singing boogie woogie bugle boy and there's a solo part in the middle that we can audition for on Saturday, and it's mine. it's perfectly in my awesome belt range. it's mine.

So the question is, should I stay for RENT even if it doesn't pay? I really wanna be on the West end after this, but I also really wanna go home. I wanna get to work on Bottom's Dream and the next Mermaids album (this guy said he wanted to produce it, he has access to a drummer, a bassist, a studio and everything!) and...just be home again! So if I stay for RENT (in which I will for sure get Maureen or Mimi) I'll just be here til February, I'll be rehearsing all fall so I won't be bored (not that I should be bored anyway, I'm in fucking Europe), my Lovah will be in Paris probably, where I'll have the chance to see him, and...I'll be in RENT. ...what should I do? go home, try to work in London, stay for the show...aaahhh!!! I can't decide.

I'm sure my options didn't make any sense at all. I'm a little too cafinated. Like I'm typing super fast and I don't really know what I'm saying, it's just the stream of consciousness kind of thing.

I've been reading the Importance of Being Earnest a lot because it's freaking hilarious. There are all these comments and letters about it at the end where people say how it's not serious, it's light and fluffy and stuff, and therefore not good. that's balls. why can't we have some non seriousness to laugh? This guy said he'd rather be moved to laughter, not tickled into it. He can shut up and lick me where I bleed. There's some substance, he comments on high society and stuff. Plus, for us, it's like super intellectual, he's just used to people talking that way because he's from that time. AND we're allowed to have funny-ness on stage. Just chill and enjoy, you jerk. It's not a wasted night if you laughed without crying. Whatever, he pissed me off.

I'm watching Blue's Clues, as usual, and it's fucking awesome. Steve is a genius. Please, watch it if you can!

Quickie

I know who I wanna be! Bernadette Peters! But a long time ago. I want her whole life.

I just found out that Anne Hathaway can sing. I hate people who are already successful. When will it be me!?

A Hundred Things

Ah! I take it back! I tried to comment and I couldn't because new blogger sucks ass.

I'm writing an amazing one woman clown show in my head and it's so funny, it makes me laugh when I think of it and then people think I'm crazy which works for my clown.

I want pasta but it's 8 30 in the morning! Spaghetti and Meatballs here I come!...when I go to Italy with my Lovah.

Speaking of my Lovah, I just now found out that he has got quite a mouth on him and we had AMAZING phone sex last night! Now my Boyfriend has become quite literally the Man Of My Dreams. I can't stop thinking about it! It was so so hot! I'm so glad we finally got the courage to not giggle.

The baby and I are listening to standards on accuradio and we're so content.

I saw La Môme last night and it was so so so sad but so well done. The acting was amazing! Well, I think, Edith Piaf is a real person, so I wanna check out clips of her to see if the actress did a good job. But she was really young and played old reeeeeeeally well. And young too.

I don't wanna be Keira Knightly for her talent or chin, I want to be her for her luck, her career! Duh! If we're choosing people based on awesomeness...well I wanna be Kate Winslet or Cate Blanchett...or Toni Collette! oh. There's no one left. Oh man! Fine, I'll go back to Catherine Zeta Jones. But I don't want her life...She got Zorro at 27, I can still get a movie like that at 27! I wanted to be Keira because she's been acting forever and got to make out with Johnny Depp and be Elizabeth.

I love writing. I love typing. I love jazz standards.

I'm hungry.

Phone sex with my Lovah is so good.

I miss tap dancing.

I'm gonna be in the chorus of an English Cabaret soon...woo hoo! I hope I'll wow them and get a part...I hope it's paying, because the next show they're doing is RENT but that's in February, so if I stayed for it, for a paying gig in RENT in Switzerland, I'd officially be the coolest person ever. And then I could come home.

A Little Mixed Up

Okay, my blogger friends, you are all much loved by me, you know that, right? I love you all very much. But you are all babies. I just switched to new blogger (by force) and it was easy as pie.

I had a dream that I was at a family party, and unexpectedly, my lovah showed up and right behind him was English Gentleman! The whole time, I was completely torn between wanting to flirt with (and fuck) English Gentleman and talk to and love my Lovah. I didn't know what to do and the dream ended horribly and I awoke extremely guilty but wishing it really happened because in the dream I had two guys and in real life I have none.

I am obsessed (again? It's hard to keep track of my obsessions) with Pride and Prejudice. I got the old one, the six hour long one for Christmas from my lovah's mum and I've been watching it a lot lately. I wish I could somehow mix the old one with the new one, which I love. I love the dirt in the new one. It's dirty (as in grimy and messy), people talk over each other and don't unnaturally talk to themselves. The Jane in the old one is the UGLIEST girl in the world. I know that's not nice. It's not nice to call people ugly. But come on. It's that hard to find a blond actress who is even slightly pretty? Did they read the book? or the script? Jane is the prettiest!! It's a credit to the actors that they could call her pretty and look at her with a straight face. In the new one, Jane is BEEEAAUTIFUL. She's perfect. Nevermind, I don't want to mix them, I like the new one better. The sisters are better, Charlotte is way better, Mr. Collins is perfect...Oh yeah. It's Mr Bingly I like in the old one. In the new one, he's too shy, that wasn't the point, he was supposed to be really sure of himself and confident, not a bumbling idiot. Oh well, that's its only fault. Oh yeah, and demon spawn chin freak. Of whom I am so jealous it hurts.

Do you care at all about what I've just said? It's not really relevant to anything ever.

Last night, the vampires died, and I wrote pages and pages of my new book. Now, all the facts are set! I just have to write the...well, the words now. But that's the fun part. Oh yeah, and I don't really know what'll happen in the end, after they beat the bad guy. Will they stay there? Will they come home? But why? Writing is hard.

So, can I just BE Keira Knightly? That's who I wanna be. Fuck Catherine Zeta Jones, she's only been in Chicago and...Zorro...okay, I wanna be her too, but Pirates has taken over my life and now I'm watching the making of Pride and Prejudice on youtube and I'm ....just so jealous! That's what I want. More than anything, I want to go back in time and BE Keira Knightly. Done. I hope, Neenia, that you can get over hating Keira Knightly, because I'm going to be her.

A New Discovery

Today was so great! I went to this place, I forget the name, but it's a small mountain I can see from the window here and it looks like there are castle ruins on it. So one day I asked what it was and I was told there's a lake ("on a mountain!?") and ruins and that I could walk there easily! So I did, today, and it was SO lovely. The smells, the sounds...the lake was frozen but thawing and it was SO hard not to be stupid and walk on it. It made me think of Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind when he asks "what if it breaks?" and she replies "do you really care right now?" and then Gilbert's Girl said to the theatre "that's such an Alathariel line!" And that's true. So I walked on it a little...but I didn't want people to be like "attention" and stuff. There were these statues carved out of wood, a snake, a fish, a beaver and ...I think a bird, and they were all together around a bench, it reminded me a little of the golden statue thing in the Ministry of Magic, but like a nature version. I read there for a while (Prince Caspian) and two people holding hands went by. The guy was really tall and funny looking, in a good way, and the girl had on a lovely dark red knitted hat. They were clearly cool. The girl said "salut" which reminded me of my inadequecies here in Switzerland, but I said "salut" back. Then I took a slow, peaceful walk around one side of the lake and I heard flute playing of some sort, a beautiful tune. I looked back and saw the Girl playing while the Guy was juggling!! Who were these people!

I was so happy and continued my slow walk, stopping to read or write whenever I felt like it. There were flowers growing, little purple ones, and tiny white buds on some trees and berries all around. Spring is here! The flute music made me want to cry and dance and sing and laugh and be quiet and stay still and spin all at the same time. It was somehow at once jolly and melancholy. I almost fainted when she stopped. I finally had the nerve to talk to the Couple who I realised were speaking English and they offered me some bread, tea and figs. What more could a girl want? They told me they were students at the circus and I fell in love with them. I was shy and silly as usual, but we got along great.

I'm mad at myself for 2 reasons. 1) I did not wear a skirt to the lake--I was planning on going to the movies. I was wearing cords. I wish I was wearing a princess dress or at least a hippie skirt. sigh. 2) I cut my hair last year. But why? I'm a long haired spirit, what was I thinking? If anyone sees me with a pair of scissors again, stab me with them. And yes, I do need to look magical to fully get the magical feel, I'm shallow that way. But I did enjoy the afternoon/evening immensely. I can't wait to go up there and actually make it to the ruins this time...in a dress.

ps My camera is broken! I cannot live like that. I neeeeeeed to show you all pictures of this place, and the view from up there!

DISCIPLINE

Things to NOT do:

1) Eat after 8 pm.
2) Go shopping when plans were to go to gym.
3) Blog a hundred times a day.
4) Call Toronto on my cell.
5) Write English Gentleman back the second I see his message.
6) Talk about English Gentleman to anyone who will listen.
7) Drink hot chocolate every day.
8) Buy peanut butter.
9) Sleep with guys sans condom.
10) Check facebook/blogs/blogger comments a hundred times a day

Things to do:

1) Work out regularly--I like it!!
2) Wait a couple days before messaging EG back.
3) Be witty and cute--not obsessive and ...obsessive--when I do message him.
4) Go out and have fun.
5) Write more--in my journals, not online--songs, poetry, my book, whatever!
6) Write and send a lot of letters to my loved ones.
7) Eat more fruit.
8) Save money for trips.
9) Meet people and call them.
10) Listen to interesting Swiss people instead of talking so much.

Rite of Passage

Have you ever dressed like a pirate whore and travelled to a random European village to get drunk with a chick you met on the internet who you had hoped would introduce you to someone hot, tall and trustworthy you can sleep with but the guy dressed like a skeleton she had in mind felt that kissing was moving too fast so after feeling really embarrassed about your budding slutty side ended up having sex with Dracula on a park bench outside a gigantic club filled with people doing the YMCA at 4am after 7 unidentified red cocktails before an accidental 6 hour train ride that took you to the wrong end of the country?

I have.

arrrrrr.

so it's carnaval here in the suisse which means get really drunk before lent. so i'm really really drunk. unfortunately, it's still early. but fortunately, i'm no longer with the LOSER i just spent the last few hours with.

okay, does anyone remember when i met army guy? well i met this guy at a bar who's in the army, every man has to do 5 months of military training here, and he was kinda cool... not really, but he talked to me and bought me a drink, so it was good enough. then he asked me out for the next weekend but he was really young (20) so i decided to forget said date and didn't show. then this dude adds me to his msn and i thought it might have been face licker because i met him at the same bar and got his email addy. it wasn't, it was army dude, so whatever. he asked me out for friday carnaval (tonight) and i was like sure whatever.

so he's booooooooooooorrrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnggggggggggg. which is the worst possible trait, no excuses. don't be boring. that's the lamest thing you could possibly be. but near the end, he tells me about these people who own a chalet where they make maple syrop here in the swiss and im like cool, and he says yeah, remember the guy you met at the bar? not me, my friend who introduced me to you and gave me your address! what? so the guy i'm out with isn't even the guy i was flirting with before, it's his nerdy friend. and by nerdy, i don't mean like me, or musical theatre people, or world of warcraft people, i mean like HORRIBLY BORRRRIIIINNNGGG!!! WTF? so i said i had to go home because i forgot my key. which i did. so now i'm home and druunnkk. which is fine, because i entertain myself more than he does.

tomorrow i go to a faraway town to meet another au pair who's from ottawa and we will drunk it up together and speak english while we're at it. woo hoo! go carnaval!!

Number 8

Okay, my friend Frenchie in England (going out with English Gentleman's flatmate) just confessed that she got English Gentleman drunk on the weekend and they talked about me. He said I'm not usually his type and he planned to sleep with me as a favour to Frenchie (what? I guess "favour" meaning pay attention to the girl who doesn't know anyone...I hope, or else he's more arrogant than I thought...hot.) but that he was really glad he did because I was intelligent and artsy and brought something to the table. (I hope he still thought I was hot though, just not blonde--his usual.) And he said out of the 50 or so girls he slept with, I rank at number 8. How am I supposed to feel about this?

VDay

Hallo there my wonderful lover! a very excellent valentine's day to you! i have a new definition for love: when you can't describe properly how you feel about someone, because it's so important. saying 'you're the bestest' just isn't bestest enough anynmore, but being gushy feels wrong. so this is about as close as I get. uh oh, it's time to pull out the old 'these song lyrics describe how I feel, except for these lines, which don't, even though the song as a whole does...'

That was a message from my lovah.

It went on to say that Valentine's Day pressures were getting to him for the first time in six years and that he felt lonely and missed me. Duh. What kind of doofus is surprised by the fact that he misses his faraway girlfriend on Valentines day!?

Boys are weird. It's not me who's freaking out about our relationship. In fact, I feel quite good about it. To quote Logan (yes, Logan, Rory's lovah from Gilmore Girls) "I'm not worried about us." But he is! I said "I wish I could live with you again." And he said "yeah, but I'd get weird again, and jumpy." And I said "you're a loser." But he's my loser.

Kids Can Be So Cruel

So I go on to msn with about an hour to kill before my movie, and this girl from the "kids" section started talking to me. I usually avoid them like the plague on msn because I can't stand the way kids write, but I figured, whatever. Anyway, here's the conversation:

who is this ???
Alathariel
who is this?
Amy
...
do you know me?
no
haha
how did u get mi msn
i have no idea
ok then
how old
haha 23
omg
i am 16
who are you!
haha what school do you go to?
meckenzie
I don't know what that is.
it is a skool
haha I mean, I don't know which one it is
oh k
I taught at some schools after school last year but not meckenzie
oh wich 1
um...
oh no i forget the names
branksome, bss, york,
ummm
ok
what do u teach ??
drama, musical theatre
i directed a bunch of plays last year
oh did u teach a heschel
yes!
I directed annie there
mi sis goes there
oh!
I guess she gave me your address
who is she?
there names r Candice & Deena
do u no them
of course!
haha
can u please stop saying haha
can you please write correctly?
omg u r such a loser
loner
no I'm not, I'm 23, I don't write like a child, that's all
no u r such a loser
how can you say that about someone you don't know?
oh this is how kool people talk and write u r a big loser & a big loner ok
No, it's how kids talk and write.
no
U R A BIG LOSER OK
I'm a bit of a nerd, but I'm proud of it. I'm definitely not a big loser or loner
AND A BIG LONER OK
how does that make me a loner?
NOBODY LIKES U
WELL YA
no, just you don't like me, other people do, though
MI SISTERS CANDICE AND DEENA TOLD ME THAT U R A LOSER AND VERY EW
aw
I liked them.
well they really didn't like every 1 doesn't
kk
that's sad
kids are mean
ya welcome to the world
no no, I left that world
I'm an adult now, and I thought it would be horrible, but everyone is much nicer and... more normal, not as full of angst.
bitch
I'm sorry, I'm being serious!
you're not being nice at all
ya
no really
but, why?
what's wrong?
u r such a loser
but why do you care?
do u no what is wrong u ok u
I don't know what that means
i don't like to talk to loser ok i am kool and popular ok
so i am blocking u so i will stay kool and popular kk
bi loser


And then she blocked me. Isn't that sad? she's 16! Don't you remember being a little nicer and smarter than that when you were 16? I don't remember anyone being like that at that age. I thought it was just an elementary school thing. Oh well.

HICCUP!

I just saw a play. It was art. It was a clown. (I'm drunk. Hiccup.) He was in a prison. Of some sort. (Hiccup.) But he was speaking french (hiccup) so I didn't understand everthing. But I understood (hiccup). He was trapped. (hiccup) He didn't know what to do to get himself out (hiccup) how to not be a clown. (hiccup) He said his dad was a king, so what (hiccup) else could he be but a clown? He also said he was born by accident (hiccup), late and without a sound. (hiccup) Then he said that we live like we're born (hiccup) so he lives by accident, late and without a sound. That made me sad. He said he was nothing, because he had no credit, no references, no house, no pet, blah, blah, blah...Everyone was laughing, but that made me sad too. I think the people who were laughing didn't get it. But it's art, they can get it however they want. It made them laugh, it made me frown, they're both (hiccup) the right responses to the poor (hiccup) trapped clown.

I want to do theatre again (hiccup) and when I couldn't understand the french (hiccup) clown's words, I planned my own clown show. It will be spectacular. (hiccup)
I met a woman who works in wine. She was kinda boring but then the more (hiccup) I talked to her, the more I found her interesting. (hiccup) She just got out of a relationship (hiccup) and I think they lived together because she just moved. That's (hiccup) sad.

I'm not sad, I'm quite content and amused by most things right now, so I'll stop writing sad.

I'm (hiccup) trying not to eat. If I turn my eyes a little to the right, I'll see the fridge that is full of DELICIOUS leftovers...But I worked out so well this week, I was good with food, not obsessive. ...I will not eat I will not eat I will not eat so late at night! (Hiccup!) maybe...just a little soup? with cream and gruière? just a little?

(hiccup) I'm trying to stop hiccuping. I'm wondering what life is like in Manhattan for Miss Pants, though I have a pretty good idea based on the description...mostly a picture of a fruit market...why do I have that picture? Is it because I'm drunk? or is there something in the blog about a fruit market?

They kiss three times here. (hiccup) Do you know what I mean? Like "Oh hi!" *kiss left, kiss right, kiss left* get it? It's funny.

I want a wine and cheese (hiccup) party with Neenia. Why are you called Neenia? I also want Skinny Rabbit and all the others to come and we can have a fancy dress party. You may think I mean formal, because that's what (hiccup) fancy dress means to us. But I mean costume party because that's what they have in England...Actually, right now, I'd rather (hiccup)dress fancy then fancy dress...

I need to perform now. I'm ready for my close up.

The Cleanse

The four most horrifying words in the English language: I read your blog.

You may all remember when someone special to you read yours. You may remember when my lovah read mine. Worse, I remember, last week, when MY SWISS HOSTS, THE NICEST PEOPLE IN THE WORLD, READ MINE. Yup. "Alathariel, we need to talk to you. We have a problem. Well, we read your blog."

Oh! the horror! the agony! the SHAME!

I am the worst person on earth and they are the best. I'm not worthy! How horrible am I? I mean, it was just venting and I use harsher words than I feel, usually, for the sake of a good entry but holy crap. I can't imagine giving my home to a random chick, accept her into my family, and then read a blog like mine. dude. I feel so awful.

I've said before that I like the kids right? because I do. Being a nanny is hard, that's all and I needed to vent. Argh.

Well, the parents--nicest people in the world, did I say that?--were worried about me and just wanted to know if I'd be okay to go on. So, I had my chance to go home and I didn't take it, obviously, that means I can handle this, right? Right. It was a big kick in the ass and I'm going to double my efforts. And never think horrible things again--not because I could get caught, but because horrible thoughts poison the soul.

what?!

oh i am in such an odd state. how i wish i had some company. or drugs. or a good book. sex drugs and literature. that's what i need.
i just watched bridgit jones 2 and hugh did not fill my need. mainly because he was not topless in my room. but he was pretty dirty, though, and that was super hot, but it just got me too excited.
sex and drugs please. and books. but sex, really, first of all.

Aha! It's so simple!

I figured it out. Why I'm so obsessed with English Gentleman. Why I'm sad that I like him.

He was the last person to give me a hug.

I need a hug. People need human contact. Physical contact. It is the only way to live.

So So Frustrated!

Can't live without a boy, it can't be done...

Cheese and Other Exciting Prospects

Ah! I love cheese. And I'm allowed to love it as much as I want because I go to the gym on a regular basis and I walk a lot.

English Gentleman is back in the flirting boat, finally. He's usually too cool for school, but he payed me a few pretty freaking sweet compliments.

"Tonight would be a good night for you to be here, you could play my guitar and sing and I could admire your curves whilst pretending to sing. Everything I know about you is classy and theatrical, I like it."

Me? Classy? Theatrical, yes, curvy, bien sur, but classy? Sweeeet.

Yikes. Oh how I love facebook but...people from grade school are now adding me. Why? Why is this happening? I don't know if any of you bloggers know this stuff about me, but I was really unpopular in grade school. I got made fun of, a lot. I try to repress, but really, it comes out all the time. I'm always worried that people are gonna find me out and categorise me as uncool. I have to sit at the back of any bus I go on because that's where the cool kids sit. I'm really insecure about it and if I never heard from or of anyone from elementary school again, I'd be extremely happy. Now EVERYONE is my "friend."

And I guess it was fine when it was people who were actually considered friends back then, we were pretty much in it together, us verses the "popular group." And they always said I was so cool, I shouldn't be with them, but I said I only hang around with nice people.

But now, the dreaded Miss Perfect added me. Miss Perfect was my "best friend in school" in grade one and then in grade 2 they put us in different classes and she became popular and I did not. Do the secretaries who made the class lists that year know that they ruined my life? Miss Perfect is not special. She's boring, to me. She's blonde, rich, pretty, nice, kinda smart, sporty, friendly, not funny, not interesting and enjoys country music. But everyone loved her. LOVED and IDOLISED. Once, I got bangs, and this guy said "but Miss Perfect doesn't have bangs anymore, why'd you get bangs?" Seriously. We were all supposed to copy her as much as we could.

I can't handle this. Why did she add me? To show off? I mean, her life seems as boring as it always was, but in a really perfect way. Why do I feel I need to be better than her? What is it about her that makes everyone crazy and why do I need validation? I'm a grown up! I have SO MANY FRIENDS who I love so so so much and who love me! I'm on a year long adventure. I found my true love and he's hotter than hers! Why am I so petty? She was never mean, not once. And she's pretty humble about her popularity. (Or was, I don't know anything about her now except for the discriptions on facebook.) I was worried she was gonna be an actress because she did a funny accent in grade 8 drama club and everyone laughed really hard. I was Lois Lane and I was great! Now I can do any accent! Name it, I'll do it better than her! BUT WHY DO I HAVE TO BE BETTER THAN HER? WHY DO I CARE? She's not in my life, and we don't have any friends in common! Why am I like this? I even started to change my profile, to make sure it was presentable. I'm presentable as I am, I like me!

I can't wait for HP7 to come out.

right before left over pizza

I'm sick. I have a cold. I can't breathe through my nose. But i told my swiss family that i was going on a random adventure in a city nearby, and they were so excited for me that i couldn't not go. the dad even paid for my train ticket. that made me feel bad, but i like saving money...

i thought i looked good. i totally jumped on the sweater and blazer over winter coat bandwagon and so i thought i was pretty chic. my blazer is dark purple, my hair has a hint of purple, my scarf is bright magenta my tights are purple and my gloves are bright purple and black striped. my sweater underneath was a nice shade of green and my capris were brown. i don't like brown, but they look good on my ass. so i liked my getup. but right at the beginning, i realised i only had one glove. i thought i had both with me, in fact i knew i did and i couldn't figure out if i dropped one in the family's car on the way to the station, or after. i really liked the gloves in the mix because my mom bought them for me and i thought they were nerdy, but then i grew to love and appreciate them. and it was fucking freezing.

i'll tell ya right now, i did not have a good time. i'm sick! I went to mcdonalds, which is always good, but never good. some part of me appreciated the total coolness of the city, it was really beautiful and interesting and the layout, i'm pretty sure, was designed by a drunk spider. but i didn't want to talk to anyone when i had a runny nose. so i went from cafe to cafe reading the picture of dorian gray. i really like the book though i feel left out because when they talk about their theories, they're saying "people" and "one" but they mean "men" which is really annoying. why wouldn't you make your audience everyone possible? or at least everyone interested? don't cut people off, it's like beer commercials, not one of them is aimed at women when women totally buy beer! i digress. shit time, I saw stranger than fiction in french, and i HATE dubbing. i refuse to watch any movie with dubbed voices. ORIGINAL PLEASE and subtitle it up. can't you read, swiss people?

cold hands, runny nose, itchy eyes, sore throat, i was talking to myself out loud "where the fuck is the train station? the guy said "cinq cent metres" that way, how the hell would i know cinq cent m--" i suddenly looked up and saw orion, the constellation, clear as day. and i was cheerful. how can that be? I was actually giddy, just because i could see orion, and he was upright, and he just jumped out at me...I didn't understand my joy, which made it funnier. anyway, i found the train station, wrote a lot and read a lot the whole way back. when i finally got up the escalater and started to head towards my street, low and behold, a bright purple and black striped glove was just lying on the sidewalk, untouched, waiting for me.

NOT FAIR!

I'll never find a lovah as good as my lovah. He's the best and he's my ultimate favourite person to spend time with, eat with, sleep with, sex it up with, watch south park with, talk with. But he's not here.

I'll never find friends as good as my friends. But they're not here!

I'll never have a one night stand as good as last week's one night stand. But it's over!

So what am I doing here? Please remind me because I'm sure there's a reason.
And it isn't so that I could get hit on by creepy french guys who lick my face when they've bought me too many vodka OJs.

...or is it?

Last Night's Drunken Haikus

I am courageous
Now that I'm super wasted
In this bar in Sion.

I can write alone
And hope that someone comes up
To talk to me soon.

I now have a date
With a twenty year old boy
Next Samdi at eight.

I dream of Gavin
And the perfect friday night
We had at Kaos.

Roxanne plus quad vod
Equals good times had by all
Ending in great sex.

My jealous lovah
Can just lick me where I bleed twice.
I need fantasies.

My poor stomach hurts
Because I just had raclette
And these drinks are cold.

I just can't believe
I'm at a bar in Europe
Haikuing alone

This DJ is lame.
Is he playing Dancing Queen?
I want to punch him.

Why do I fall for
Skinny little bartenders?
He is glad I tipped.

I cannot go home
Until it is twelve thirty.
Otherwise I'm lame

Already, I'm lame
Because I'm sitting alone
Writing in a bar.

Why am I writing
Drunken Haikus in a bar?
Surprise, it's easy.

I love being drunk.
This is just what I wanted.
I dream you are here.

"You" can be either
My Lovah or Englishman.
I'll take either one.

I talk to Lovah
By phone every single night.
I never see him.

My hot English Fling
Was over far too quickly.
Wish it was last week.

I like being drunk;
Nothing matters anymore.
That is comforting.

One guy looks at me
Then another and one more.
What is it with Sion?

No one comes to talk?
I am a young hot woman!
COME AND TALK TO ME!

They welcome me here
But they are not welcoming.
They make me so sad.

Billy Jean is on.
How come no one is dancing?
There is no dance floor.

So so so so drunk.
I like it this way baby!
An excuse to smile.

And now I'm dancing
With the funny bartenders
One of which is cute.

The nicest one said
"Karaoke est sympa!
Merci, a dimanche!"

Mood Swinger

Dude, what is going on in my life?

okay, so I don't think most of you get the degree to which my lovah freaked out about what he read. He freaked out. So then he declared his undying love for me, which is great. But now I'm so confused! I feel like I'm getting something I thought I already had. And now I'm angry that I didn't have it til now. That's a stupid thing to be angry about.

By the by, there is no way I'm going to explain this properly. The point is, I have no idea how I'm feeling. up and down and up and down my mood goes.

I'll just write stuff as it comes to me.

I am probably going to Zurich this Saturday with 2 other Au Pairs I found on facebook. Facebook, I love you.

Englishman has been facebook messaging me, flirting is awesome. But he always plays it super cool, and I'm a gushy nerd. So in trying to play it cool too, we're like not flirting. We're just having a conversation. Anyway, I gave him the cold shoulder for 2 days (as long as I could!) and he wrote "Really wanna hear you sing madam. X" (The x means kiss as in xoxo.) And I wrote "What would you have me sing, sir?" and he wrote "The song that you sang to me, or perhaps the yeah yeah yeahs (great band if you havent heard them) - Iwouldnt be picky beoynd that one song" and...dammit! I meant to get advice before I responded. oh, here's what I wrote "I don't know what to say, I can't help you. If you wanna hear me sing a dirty song with my friend Kate, go to www.myspace.com/themermaidsrocksso far, we're our own biggest fans..." Dude, that's so boring. oh man!
Oh well.
I can't even fantasize about him anymore because then I feel guilty so it doesn't matter anyway. Except that it's something to do...And that he's HOT!

I have a headache but I had a great time at the gym. The dad here is being mean! No smiles, no "Ca va, ma chere Claire?" I think...I hope he's mad at the mom, otherwise he's mad at me. Or sick. I hope he's not mad at me!

Anyway, I wanna get laid too, Neenia. I hate being detatched from what I know and love. Need to know and love new things...new hotties.

My legs are fucking killing me. Yes gym!

I might have to not go on the computer for all next week. It'll be difficult, worse than a diet. But I'm gonna try. Starting Monday.

Hahahaha! I'm roping Neenia into the Facebook phenomenon. It's like world of warcraft for...other people. People who are kidding themselves by thinking they escaped the addiction of world of warcraft.

I'm newly hooked on a site called www.peekvid.com which rocks my world. Check it out when bored.

Wanna have sex.

I love love love wastes of time.

Hee Hee

My lovah publicly declared his love for me on a blog comment.

Winter

I'm alone.

I hyped up my fling because it was something to do and now even the fun in the fantasy is gone.
The little girl is being a psycho ho's beast.
I have my period.
I got fat again.
I'm alone.

People aren't supposed to live like this.

FUCK!

Yay! I can join the club now! The My Lovah Read My Blog Club!

Is there a worse post for him to have read? No. He had to read the bragadocious dirty sex details.

It was my English Fling? What was I supposed to do?
This is what he wanted.

Man. If he only knew how much I love him. (My Lovah, that is.) You all know, you should tell him.

I'm a little mean, though. I can't keep the smile off my face! Something worked! Something woke him up to how much he loves me too! It better not go away anytime soon. Or ever. I'm sure a crazy round of "baby, I love you" s will return him to his state of "woo hoo, Alathariel is the best, life is good" non-over the moon-ness. Oh well. Then I'll just fuck a tall dark Frenchman...hahaha.

I know you're reading this baby! I LOVE ONLY YOU. THE SEX WE HAVE IS BETTER THAN ANY SEX ANYONE IS HAVING. NOW I'M THINKING ABOUT IT TOO MUCH AND I'M GOING TO HAVE A HORRIBLE DAY BECAUSE THERE IS NO CHANCE OF SATISFACTION!

Anyway, I figured it all out. I hadn't eaten for 2 days before I got to Kaos. I felt super skinny and hot. That'll do it. Just wait til I get back from one year at the gym! I'll be sexier and in a sexier mood than ever. maybe I should get aids... then I'd be super hot...but then I really shouldn't have sex with my lovah...

My English Fling

Why oh why did I have to have a one night stand with someone I like and respect? I really like this guy. Dammit. I'm annoyed because it was a PERFECT night. So so so so so amazing. And I know that anything more will ruin it. Because...I'm not supposed to like someone. I'm just allowed to sleep with them. Dammit! This is all my lovah's fault for wanting an open relationship. I don't care. Neither of them live near me, so what the hell does it matter? I'm talking about it and blushing about it for weeks if I want. Nobody can stop me.

Want the details?

Well, he's hot. Like...gorgeous. And cute. and he likes me. He said he usually sends girls down a ladder out his window (jokingly, but I got the idea he doesn't treat other girls with the same respect I got) but he was having so much fun with me and didn't want me to leave the next morning. He likes my teeth. Who in their right mind likes my teeth? He likes me cheeks (both kinds) and he'd pinch my cheek whenever I said something cute. Which was a lot. I'm cute. He knows it. He said I looked a lot better with my clothes off and why did I wear so much that night. He likes music. I played Cake for him and passed some sort of test I could not have otherwise passed, what with not knowing Jack Johnson and stuff. He was enchanted, I think. I was most certainly enchanted. Just the way he adorably rolled his eyes when I stole a kiss. The eyes that said "you're too cute, why does this have to end?" and "you're killing me!"

Want the dirty details?

This guy is a pro. The teasing. The perfect exact amount of teasing that I needed and love and at the time hate in a good way. Man. The perfect amount of talking during sex. Nothing weird, just dirty enough to turn me on even more and just enough communication to make things better but not ruin the mood. Can a one night stand even be that good? He asked me a lot of dirty questions saying I'm probably never gonna see him again so I might as well tell him all my fantasies. So I told him a few and he told me his (all of his involved music and I said "put your fantasy on a stage and we've got a deal") and we acted out what we could. He's...an English gentleman. I found out later that most English gentlemen are the same way. Do you fully know what an English Gentleman is? You'd think it's just politeness, opening doors, carrying heavy things for me...no. The full extent of an English Gentleman is that he didn't even get hard until I was wet. LITERALLY. So once he felt that I was wet, he got hard. LITERALLY. And he was into it, it's not like he wasn't having a good time before that, so you'd think he'd be hard, like, the second he thought about sex, or once he got my top off. Nope. Once he knew I was wet. That's Manners. It's in the core of his very being to put me first. That is HOT.

5 hours. (take that Baseball Knight!) FIVE HOURS of teasing, talking, fucking, laughing. Hot.

I want so badly to be in those 5 hours again. Or the 3 hours before, playing Roxanne or at Kaos with a K.

I've had my English fling and it finished too quickly (though he most certainly did not).

My English Adventure

DUUUUUUUDE!!!!! Oh man, I want to tell you all of this from the end to the beginning. Alas, that would be dumb. But just so you know, the end of this is AWESOME.

Okay, so I go to London with practically NO money. The pound can lick me where I bleed. Twice. I met up with my high school friend who I will henceforth call Frenchie. Frenchie and I VERY FANTASMAGORICALLY accidentally met on the same car of the same train by the same door. If you know the London Underground at all, you would know that that is practically impossible.

I digress.

We saw Avenue Q that night. Fucking crazy. Amazing. AMAZING. What else can I say? The talent in that cast is through the roof. I immediately fell in love with the guy who played Trekkie Monster and Nicky. Simon Lipkiss. Really Lipkin, but yeah right. I met him after the show and Frenchie asked me "how many times do you live?" Since the answer was "once" she made me write a little note telling him how talented I thought he was and how I would love to see him in a show again soon then fold it into a paper airplane and throw it to him while he was on the phone by the stage door. hahaha. I totally did it and it was great. He was so nice.

The next day, we got tickets to see Love Song starring Neve Campbell, Cillian Murphy, Kristen Johnston, and Michael McKean. Neve Campbell can take a leaf from the pound's book and lick me twice. What a bitch! I went up to her after the show, encouraged by the niceness of the Avenue Q cast, and said that I loved the show and that I always wanted to meet her because I went to Randolph. She laughed and said "oh really? cool." and walked away. Why the fuck put your name on a school if you're not going to get even a little excited when an alumnus of the school sees you in a show MILES away from your home and compliments you? BITCH. I couldn't believe it. She was probably just upset because she sucked in the show anyway. She would have still sucked in a worse cast, but with those three, especially Cillian, she might as well not have been in it at all. Man she sucked. I plan to slander her name because she's a ho.

That night we saw Phantom, awesome. Of course. Everyone was great. Raoul in particular. Frenchie had never seen it, I had, so I was more excited to see her excitement. She just kept saying "whoa!"

Okay, the in betweens is that I met Frenchie's friend who let us stay at his house and that was great, super nice english gentleman. As were his disgusting flatmates. Boys are gross. British boys can totally get away with it.

Also, I needed some sexual. I CRAVED IT. This waned a little the second day and a little more the third when we went back to Frenchie's res in South Hampton. And we had no money. Literally, I was left with 4 pounds, having not eaten a lot (but my soul was finally full). The plan was we were going to go to everyone's favourite club called Kaos. With a K. haha. The drinks there are dirt cheap, everyone kept telling me. So I was psyched to get smashed with Englishmen. ...boys.

It had been a mild day, we saw some beautiful historic stuff, but my mood was low, I was upset I had no money. Anyway, Frenchie and I went to Frienchie's boyfriend's house to pre-drink with his flatmates (I love saying that). We played Roxanne. Ever played that? Put on Roxanne by the Police and drink every time they say Roxanne. Thank the lord for Roxanne. I immediately felt awesome. Nauseous, but awesome. Wearing my red party dress gave me the confidence I needed to body talk the hottest of the flatmates. He insisted I kept an English accent for the rest of the night because he liked mine better than the girls he saw every day.

A note about this boy--tallest person you'll ever meet. cutest eyes. amazing smile. beautiful. hot. witty. hot. funny. hot.

So he buys me a drink the second we get there and it's an hour long chase. I seemed to be chasing him, but I was drunk, so I didn't seem to mind. But I wasn't too drunk that I made a fool of myself. Frenchie got the drunkest the fastest and asked him if he liked me and he said he definately wanted me. NICE. So finally, I ask him when he's gonna kiss me and he said "when you say something that shocks me. Something dangerous or--" and I just kissed him. I grabbd him by the neck and kissed him hard. And after drinking, dancing, kissing, hot comments, kissing, ass grabbing, we go back to the boys' house and have sex until dawn.

There will be plenty of details to come, but can I just say now that I am so so so so so so satisfied and happy. Wow. Wow. Wow.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!

RENT OperÁria - Rent

Turn Up the WTF

okay. cyber sex. what do we think? phone sex?
sex with lovah only good when having it.
not good when thinking about it.
not good before.
no fingers brushing, no talking.
no cheek caressing.
love and trust and comfort.
i am what i hate--cliche. conventional. normal.

want to be called beautiful.
want to enchant. love to enchant.
enchanted all summer.
fell in love with the unenchantable.
his word.

i've been told 'I just want to take you!'
that turns me on.
i've been told 'oh god I want you so bad!'
that turns me on (in spite of the error).

i've been called beautiful. i've been wooed, given gifts, given flowers, massages, looks.

if i spoke french better, if i were a little braver, i'd be having it all again.

Dam you Jane Austen

I enjoy the act of falling in love...

These words, said once by a good friend going from one love to another, were fresh in my mind this morning. I had just dreamed that I was out with a group of people who seemed to be my new friends and I was slowly falling in love with one tall, handsome, young man. We all sat down on the couch together at the same time and my pinky brushed against his. We then spent the rest of the night trying to do that again. I awoke giddy.

I miss that so so much. The giddiness, the fingers brushing. The hand holding. The anticipation. The chase. The wondering. I don't think I'm the first person to realise the wonder of courtship (sorry, I just watched Pride and Prejudice). But I guess I did forget how marvelous it can be. It sucks though when dreams are the ones to show you what you've been missing.

I just miss human contact.

I Wanna Play!

I wanna write my resolutions too!

okay

1. To be like the Wizard of Oz and find a brain, a heart, courage and, by the end of the year, home.

2. To take a ga zillion pictures.

3. To keep my room clean.

4. To travel and learn stuff (aka, get out of my room).

5. To finish my book.

6. To look hot (ter).

7. To finish the musical (that my friend and I are writing).

8. To write letters to my friends.

9. To make friends.

10. To be in/do a show. Or, you know, 10 shows.

I Love Everything About This

Bob Fosse flips shit forever

HEY!

Sup, yo? None of you blogged anew. kinda. Bedroom Prince, I guess. and Skinny Rabbit, but not for a while. Now I don't feel so bad.

Oh yeah. Please buy, rent, steal, download, borrow or whatever the movie "Dave Gorman's Googlewhack Adventure." It's so cool. That's all I can say. He told me not to tell you anymore. Please don't read any synopses. I hate when people ruin stuff.

Don't Hate Me!

I'm sorry. It's been too long, but I was having too much fun in real life to blog. Oddly enough, with all the fun comes almost no stories. Just fun. So that's why no blog.

But I do love you.

Oh wait, there is one story--I spent New Year's in London! Woo Hoo! We just missed the fireworks. We were so close. The sky lit up beautifully, but we didn't know why. It was so fun.

I love London. I need to live there after I live here. I'm seeing (hopefully) 4 shows in 2 days next week. I'm gonna barf with excitement. If I'm lucky, I'll see: Avenue Q, Little Shop of Horrors, and a Shakespeare or two. The girl I'm staying with (an old friend who's doing school there) loves straight plays so we have to compromise (I like straight plays, too, but I know musicals...) and see a couple of each.

I'm back in Sion now, but I have a great feeling about it. I feel better now that I was a big baby for 6 weeks. When I went home and had nothing impressive to show for it, it got me excited to come back and ...I dunno, live?

I'm gonna read and comment on your news now.

Happy New Year!

OW!

Are you trying to hurt me?

Don't tell me you all have lives and that's why you're not blogging.

I've done my part. I commented on all of your newest posts (twice, some of you), I updated both of mine, and I am entertaining and I love you. (that's my part.) I don't even have a computer. Qu'est-ce fuck is your excuse.

Missing you is worse when I have to e-miss you too.

Ease my pain, friends.

Revenge

Okay, so I know we all do it. Well, I know I did it...do it still. I fake sick, like all the time. But I never faked sick to people, just bosses. And to get out of school. That's no big deal.

But don't fake sick to people, to your family. That's just dumb.

I didn't believe her. I knew, I knew she was faking it--it takes one to know one. And her grandma bought it, hook, line and centre. (ps, I don't know what that expression means.) She was pampered like a princess and got everything she wanted. And I seemed cruel for not really sympathising. Sure enough, half an hour later, she was FINE. No, not fine, jumping and screaming with irritating joy.

This is punishment. I know it. All my old bosses called Switzerland and made sure they found me a girl who fakes sick and gets away with it.

I Can Only Tell You!

I miss Canada.

I miss Gilmore Girls.

I miss other TV.

I miss my bed.

I miss my mom.

I miss peanut butter.

I miss Tequila.

I miss Crews.

I miss the Mermaids.

I miss Barrie.

I miss Newmarket.

I miss the Vic.

I miss Randolph.

I miss my kitchen.

I miss my cat.

I miss my PJs.

I miss eggs for breakfast.

I miss chinese food.

I miss flat land.

I miss straight roads.

I miss not 9-5.

I miss unconventional.

I miss the possibility of drugs.

I miss English.

I miss Korea Town.

I miss the VM.

I miss daily freedom.

I miss the movies.

I miss hanging out.

I miss performing.

I miss you.

...

Having said all that:

I like mountains.

I like cheese for dinner.

I like walking everywhere.

I like hot chocolate.

I like new movies.

I like petting zoos.

I like French.

I like friendliness.

I like travel opportunities.

I like people watching.

I like castles.

I like christmas in the air.

I like my big room.

I like the crows.

I like weird crowds.

I like stunts.

I like my heart growing fonder.

I like letters.

I like baby smiles.

I like my advent calendar.

I like blogs.

I like free weekends.

I like writing.

I like my new scarf.

...

I hope that's enough to last me a year.

Chocolat

As I mentioned in a comment on Skinny Rabbit's blog, I am completely sick of being in the audience. Oh how I miss the stage.

Oh yeah, also, I want to act with Johnny Depp. Why can't I? Who the fuck is Keira Knightly, and why the fuck does she get to act--make out with--Johnny Depp?!?

(this all feels familiar...have I blogged this before?)

Anyway, Keira can suck my balls. It's my turn to make out with Johnny Depp. I'm older than her--which is the most depressing thought in the world. This age thing.

But one of the people I wanna be is Catherine Zeta-Jones (started with Zorro! got to do a movie musical...) and she didn't get a movie until she was 27. Now I'm not as gorgeous as Catherine Zeta-Jones, I'm not as young and skinny as Keira Fucking Knightly, but I decide I have a chance. So, the age I will kick ass and, like, get something is 25. That kills me, as I wanted it to be 18. At the oldest 22. Why am I already 23? It's okay, it's okay, 25 is the age. It's happening. I have nothing else to do.

A few unrelated side notes:

1) Yesterday was my half birthday. Nobody cares about their own half birthday, let alone mine, but I still like to at least recognise that I'm a half a year older. I used to make my mom acknowledge the day with a special dessert or something. I thought about that yesterday, and sure enough, she sent me a "Happy Half-Birthday love, Mommy" email. Best mom ever.

2) I'm listening to the South Park Christmas CD and I'm so freaking cheerful you could hang me on your tree.

3) Miss Pants is officially my favourite blog commenter. Sorry to those of you who thought you were in the running. She takes the cake (though I THOROUGHLY appreciate and love the rest of your comments too). Thanks Miss Pants!

4) I just watched Chocolat. If you don't love that movie, you need to repent.

ack! Thppth!

I know I seem totally bi-polar-y like all the time, but then, everone is, if you go by blogs.

I'm better now...I'm meeting a guy from a band for drinks tonight, to see if I can be in his band!

I'm super excited to a) be among grown ups, b) go aaaaoooouuut tonight, c) talk about music and stuff and d) not sit in my room and be a fuck up.

I used to be president of the fuck up club but I'm giving it up (I say this all the time) (he does this every friday--what's that from?) to become an accomplished...um...human being. or something.

Now, I'm going to do dishes.

Reading Makes Me Write

I've been wanting to blog this:

It was supposed to be different.
It's the same.

I've been looking for familiarity; I got it. Recently, in a good way--A couple of British men with their little boy at the park speaking English and not being awkwardly polite like everyone else in this town. But mostly, it's just that there is nothing here you can't get at home.

It was flushed out in my mind, the gay couple and the shopping stories. They are pretty boring now, I guess, but I think they get my point across. Anyway, today, I wrote this in my journal:

You know how time...moves? It moves differently at different times. (I don't think I'm a genius for figuring this out, I just think I'm lame for the way it happens to me.)

Here's what that thought brings to my mind:

Just now, after doing yoga for 30 seconds, I thought "wow, this feels good," but I also thought "yeah fucking right I'm gonna do this for longer." The voices of made up yoga instructors were saying "5 minutes for a sun salutation, breathe, take it slow," and "surely 5 minutes out of your day will go unnoticed!" (who talks like that?) But in the first 30 seconds of the five minutes, it's not unnoticed. It's a huge fucking hindrance. I'm not spending 12 times the time I just spent on that. (I can do it in a class for an hour and a half. It's on my own that I have problems.)

Also:

Almost every time I brush my teeth, I remember my grade 1 competition with Michelle; Who Brushed Their Teeth Longer This Morning? "I brushed for 3 minutes this morning, I counted." I lied every single morning. It's embarrassing to admit you don't clean your teeth like you're supposed to. But I brushed! I brushed until there was nothing on my teeth which was always the same time I got bored. Why in the world would I brush longer than that? (now I know that there's serious stuff under the obvious stuff but I have an electric toothbrush--3 minutes of that in my mouth is completely ridiculous.)

Also:

Chewing. We're supposed to chew, what 34 times per bite? No way! What are you eating that you can't swallow after 20 chews? Have you ever counted? You'll be swallowing AUTOMATICALLY at 12, 17 tops. Shouldn't you just do what your body tells you?

The problem is, I'm always wishing I could be on to the next thing, and I'm always pining for the last thing. The last bite was so good, why didn't I savour it? I'd rather be brushing my teeth in the bathroom in my sweat pants than on the bus. And I certainly love yoga.

When I'm reading, yeah, I'm comfy, but I wanna go out. I need human contact and I feel like I should. When I'm out, I wish I wasn't spending money.

Other than friendship, the only thing that is not a waste of time is performing and art.

Since there are no friendships here, I need to perform.

Then I read Nick Hornby for a bit (which I reccomend, all of it) and went to the bathroom and then wrote this:

I'm getting fat.
My breasts look fabulous in this shirt.

Those are the two things I note when I look in the mirror.
(Maybe the latter is directly influenced by the former?)

But will my lovely, fat, perfect breasts distract me from the fact that my eyes look tired and sad? The fact that my second chin is getting significantly bigger? The fact that I'm too lazy to pluck my eyebrows or put on mascara? (don't underestimate the seriousness of laziness.) The fact that my hair is still in limbo?

Will my beautiful necklace and well dressed upper body distract me from the oversised cut-off second-hand red sweat pants on my devastatingly overgrown thighs?

No.

Well, maybe the good things are a small consolation--but the question is "what does it matter?"

No one here cares what I look like. There are no boys I want to impress, no connections that seem makable.

What's worse--No one to look good for, or the inevitability of looking bad if there were someone?

I'm not sad because I'm alone.
I'm sad because I'm not making any friends.

I'm not sad because I'm fat.
I'm sad because I'm not getting thin.

I'm not sad that I'm babysitting.
I'm sad that I'm not performing.

It's the "not" that makes me sad.

I always do this. Or I guess, I always don't.

But then I had the beautiful hope of Switzerland.

It was supposed to be different.
It's the same.

I looked at my journal and thought. I added:

I was supposed to be different.
I'm the same.

That's Right Mothafucka

Okay, I totally redeemed myself. I spent the whole day completely wowing this girl. She was good in the morning, so she caved, not me. Anyway, she was totally psyched with my awesome skills. "Je sais tout ce qui donne la plaisire aux enfants!" or something.

She is now putty in the palm of my hand around my little finger. or something.

Anyway, I know this is my second Motherfucker in the past 2 titles, but I kick ass. Mothafucka.

Motherfucker cock shit fuck

Okay, so I have a confession to make, I am a good babysitter, I am. But...with good kids. With bad kids, I'm still fine. They won't get hurt or anything. But there is a good chance that I'll hurt them. obviously, child abuse is not funny. But what if the child abuses you?

I can't control this kid. Not that I want to control her, I just want her to stop being a bitch. She totally does things just to piss me off and she doesn't follow the tiniest instructions like "stop hitting your brother." She doesn't say please. She acts like she honestly believes I'll do whatever she says. If I don't, she runs away or hits me. Qu'est-ce que fuck am I supposed to do?

Mary Poppins just won't do--the kids from that movie just needed some love, and love is what I got--this spoiled brat needs Nanny McPhee. Or an exorcist.

Oh well, I'm handling it.

Somewhere Over The Rainbow

This is really a post that belongs on my claireischeesy blog, but I don't want certain people to find it. This works though.

Remember all those lessons we learned when we were kids? Every story we heard, every movie we watched tried to teach us something. Don't take candy from strangers, don't lie, believe in yourself, don't judge a book by the cover, dont...make deals with witches, your dead father will always be with you in some way, true beauty lies within, even if someone can't talk, they might still be your true love, humans don't belong in the jungle, etc (lemme know if you think of more...I'm at a loss)

Well, really, other than "don't take candy from strangers" do we really follow those rules until we learn them for ourselves? I didn't. And I'm sure I've taken candy from many a stranger.

Remember the message from Wizard of Oz? There's No Place Like Home.

Oh how I wish I had ruby slippers. It's not that I'm not having fun here, and I know if I met the Scarecrow, Tinman and Lion, I'd be a lot happier. I'll make friends soon, I know. But Dorothy got to bring Toto.

Bedroom Prince had it right when he said "don't go." But I guess there's no way to explain such a thing.

Why wouldn't I go?

Auntie Em was too busy for me and Miss Gulch was trying to steal my dog! No one was paying any attention to me and everything was black and white. I needed new and magical things. I needed attention. I needed colour.

But alas, I'm here for a year and realised too late (or too early) that:

"...if I ever go looking for my heart's desire again, I won't look any further than my own back yard. Because if it isn't there, I never really lost it to begin with!"

I guess I'll just have to try and enjoy my time in Oz. Maybe Dorothy was happy to pay off her student loan and learn french while she was there.

I just really miss Auntie Em.

Desperate Housewives

"This is what married people do, they go out of their way to calm each others' irrational fears!"

Damn, It Feels Good To Be A Gangsta

I can drive stick on a mountain.

Wrong Again?

ps (pre-script) I had phone sex last night. Hot. I totally needed that distraction.

Speaking of distractions, Harry Potter. More to the point, Ron and Hermione. Quand le fuck are they getting together? I seriously cannot wait. I think I have a disease. I've been watching interviews and silly clips on YouTube. I'm seriously sick. I also...really like Ron. Meaning I think he's super hot. Ron from the book, of course, and ...yes, Rupert Grint, too. It's true. I don't care. I totally want him. He's like, what 17 now? Surely, that's fine. My mom is dating a 34 year old, that's 11 years younger than her...so I can sleep with Ron right? Or the twins?

I wish we could have the grown up versions of Harry Potter. Grown up versions meaning everything is the same but we get to see the dirty stuff and hear the swear words. Seriously, I know. I have issues.

mua ha ha ha ha ha!!

I think I'm part evil.

I'm online with Baseball Knight right now, we were flirty slightly dirtily, and he said 'so what's happening with you and your lovah when you get back' and I said 'it'll be the same as always--we'll live together and have an open relationship--does that put a downer on your fantasy?' and he said 'i'm not gonna lie, yes.' and said 'but you never showed signs of wanting more' and he said 'well i did and still do'

and now i'm grinning smugly and excitedly. Why am i so mean?

haha. he's a manwhore, so he'll be fine. whatever. i miss my lovah, i miss excitement, i miss the city and i miss sex.

Whine With My Swiss Cheese

I know that I need to stop complaining. But now I have a headache. I'm allergic to this country. Driving here is fucking ridiculously hard, stupid french is hard, watching children when the mother is around is hard, playing princess when you don't even get to be in charge is hard, cooking meals for picky eaters is hard, being away from loved ones is REALLY hard, not having sex when you want to is hard, not going on the internet to look up erotic stories in private is hard, stupid french is hard and stupid driving is hard. But really I just want my lovah and a bed and my own bed and my own kitchen (shared with some roommates is okay) in english. But I also want to not pay for rent or food and to have opportunities to take karate and clown and fencing and archery and to travel and ...stuff.

I'm here for a reason. But I'm Rory-ing it, and at this headache ridden moment, the cons are outweighing the pros. But I'm here for a reason.

It'll get better, it hasn't even been 2 weeks.

And all of my stupid old insecurities kick in. Blech. No one will like me, I sound stupid, I'm not good at this, I don't fit in...

of course I don't.

oh well. I'll be home at Christmastime.

Send some love to Sion, please.

hella lame

um, you know when you check the computer regularly for signs of life, and you blog at least once a day?

well you know how it feels when other people don't blog?

BLOG AGAIN, ALL OF YOU!

logging, not blogging.

sorry my beloved blog loves. my computer isn't working so i can't write in my room. much like bedroom prince, that's where i blog. so i'm just writing in my journal a lot. i'll copy all of those entries into here because they're good.

love you all and missing you so much that i've performed magic to comfort myself with the memories of you.

WTF?

What the mother cock shit?
Qu'est-ce que fuck?

Switzerland is fucking hot.
Sion is bloody spectacular.
Sexual.
What am I doing here?

I'll write coherent crap later.

I'll Be Home for Christmas

So this is it. I will still be blogging on Quill and Ink to keep you updated with my very personal stuff, but I will be in Switzerland.

I know I never see Miss Pants and Skinny Rabbit is pretty far away, and I almost never see Arts Monkey...okay, so maybe none of you will technically miss me, but I know that knowing I'm not in my bed with my lovah on Clinton will tear you up inside.

And knowing I'm away and you're still here but I'm not here, will tear me up inside. It's going to be a hard year.

Goodbye until tomorrow.

ps you know little baby jaguar? I had dinner with his family last night and at the end, he ran up to me, kissed my leg and said "I'm not going to miss you, bye!"

The Devil Wears H&M

Just to kinda copy Skinny Rabbit, I went shopping! At H&M! I got a new coat! It's black and it has princess shoulders. And I got a new hat, it's wide brimmed and black as well. And I got new black gloves and a new black shirt and a new black bra. Apparently, I like that colour.

But really, it's good because I can wear whatever colour scarf and it'll change my look. Right now I have a red scarf that my lovah bought me. He has a matching one.

Aaah! I have to start thinking about packing! That's gonna be a tough job.

A Night's Tale is on. How do I feel about this movie? I can't tell.
It makes me want to be in that time. But the movies that clean up the horrible world that was the past always make me want to live then.

Have you seen The Devil Wears Prada? It gave me an eating disorder, but it was good.

That's all.

Jet Plane

my bags aren't packed
I'm not ready to go
I need some time
need one more show
I hate to wake you up to say I'm scared

the dawn has broken
it's almost noon
the tickets are booked
I'm leaving soon
already I'm so lonesome I could die

The Rage!

Sometimes I get so angry that my blood boils. My hands really do ball into fists and my nails dig into my skin.

My reaction? I want to write a letter.

Canadians really are pussies.

Show me the Beast!

Can I just say how jealous I am of Skinny-Rabbit and especially Miss Pants? What an amazing story they get to portray! I'm watching the movie now with two feverish children. I don't think they're as enchanted as I or the castle.

I love the very beginning with the music and the narrator. I love "Little town..." I love the blond whores. I love "Oh no!" "Oh Yes!" "Oh no!" "Oh yes!" I love love love the library more than anything in this world. I love when Cogsworth finally goes crazy and stabs a guy in the butt. I love when Belle comes back for the Beast and that saves him. I love when Gaston says "Did you honestly think she'd want you when she could have someone like me?" in that funny voice. I love when Belle's hair finally comes down in the rain and she looks really hot. I love when magical light shines out through the beast. I love when Belle gazes into the nameless prince's human eyes and says "it is you!"

"It is a miracle!"

Zoom out from the beautiful stainglass window of the lovahs dancing and cue Celine Dion.

What a great way to spend a sick day.

Excitement Strikes Again

Dammit!
Baseball Knight talked to me on msn last night and was saying dirty funny things. Typical. But then he asked if we could see each other before I go. I thought there was a hint of "sleep together" before I go, but I wasn't sure. then I "brb"'d him and and when I got back it said "And this time I promise it will last A LOT longer than last time" "I wasn't in a good place in Pennsylvania..." "I'm very happy with my life and who I am now" "...hello?"
And I was like "ah!" But he was offline.

So I wrote him an email saying I wasn't ignoring him, I'm glad he's happy now and I'm looking forward to seeing him again.

Isn't it funny to promise that it will last a lot longer this time? What are we, in high school? I feel like I'm slumming it with the immature. And I like it.

"Yes please Mrs. Adams!"

Then I had sex dreams about him all night. I don't get me. I love my lovah more than anything. the sex is amazing. AMAZING. never wanting anything. We have passionate, exciting, fun, loving, funny, unique, sexy sex.

Yet immature baseball knight really excites me! Why? I don't need him!

Oh well. I'm looking forward to living out last night's dreams (and for it not to live up to them).

Plug

Argh. All thoughts and no internet make Alathariel a dull girl.

All greens and no chocolate make Alathariel go crazy.

I've started the soup diet.

My head hurts, I hate celery now, I hate green beens more than ever and all I want, ALL I WANT IS TWO CHEESEBURGERS FROM MCDONALDS!

But The Mermaids have recorded their first album: Radiant in Ribbons

Please go to their release party: The Undescribable Unveiling

Also, please attend: The Forlorn Farewell to say goodbye to Alathariel for a year.

They are one in the same event, though one makes you cry while the other makes you dance. (I hope the Unveiling is the one that makes you dance...)

Tequila Sunrise. 212 Adelaide. 10:00

Be there or be square.

Just

I do it to myself.

But I get some things done! I do! My list is almost complete! It's just the second most important thing I haven't done yet.

I just read an old (drunken) journal entry where I promised myself that things would be different. Well, I lied. I am in a disfunctional, dishonest relationship with myself and it's probably going to get worse.

But...I'm sure it'll all work out in the end. I'm cocky that way.

nostalgia

I wish I could go back to college
In college you know who you are
You sit in the quad
and you think "oh my god,
I am totally gonna go far!"

What a silly concept to ask "who am I?"

but I do. because I don't know sometimes.
I think I do know but I cloud it because I don't want to hurt other people's feelings.
I lose track.

How do I go back to college?
I don't know who I am anymore!
I wish I had taken more pictures...

And put them in a pretty scrapbook to look at at times like these.

Not So Wise

I am trying to learn the language of the world as they say in "The Alchemist."
I don't know how to do that while there are things to do and responsibilities to ...see through.

There's a part in the book where a boy goes to a wise man to learn the path to happiness or the meaning of life or something. When he gets to the wise man's castle, it is bustling and the wise man is talking to many other travelors and advisors and what have you. It takes two hours for the wise man to get to the boy and then he says "I have no time right now to tell you about the meaning of life, but feel free to look around my castle at all the wonderful things I have. I need you to hold on to this spoonful of special oil while you do so and don't drop any." So the boy goes all around the castle for 2 hours, his eyes never leaving the spoonful of oil. When he returns to the wise man, the wise man asks if the boy saw all of his prized possessions. The boy is embarrassed saying he was only focusing on the oil. The wise man told him to enjoy himself around the castle for the next two hours. So he did. And when he got back, the wise man was pleased to hear how much the boy loved all of his wonders but was quick to point out that he had spilled the oil. He said "all I can tell you about the meaning of life is this: find happiness in the things around you, but do not forget about the oil."

What the hell does that mean? I mean, I think I know what it means, but that's like, hard.

In any case, read the Alchemist, I'm enjoying it.

All Shook Up/Question Mark?

My hands are shaking and my knees are weak. That Elvis really knew what he was talking about.

Seriously, I'm having trouble typing.

It just hit me. Hard.

My Swiss hosts just sent me the contract. What am I doing? I'm going to Switzerland for a whole year?
This is happening?

What is this I'm feeling? Fear? Excitement? Curiosity? Nerves? Nausia? Joy? Adventure? Fear?

All of the above. A hell of a lot of fear though. good fear. is there good fear?

I'm signing contracts! I'm signing contracts? Why?

Am I really going to be in the hills I've been dreaming about since I watched the Sound of Music every morning when I was 2? Will they really be alive with the sound of music? Do you remember those mountains? They are amazing! they're like a painting, but they're real and I'm going to prove it!

Not only am I gonna have a new room, a new house, a new family, a new job (NO MORE SERVING!!!)...I'm gonna have a new country!...A NEW CONTINENT! I'm in so much shock.

Why hasn't it hit me before now?

How am I gonna make friends? I'm really shy!

Am I going to watch TV while I'm there? I still have to see what happens to Lorelai and Rory but how can I watch TV when I'm in Switzerland? Do they even have electricity?

Am I going to read? I'll be reading in French!

French?! Will I be able to communicate in French? I have a hard enough time communicating in English!

What if I screw up the lives of the kids?

What if I audition for a play but can't be in it because of my au pair work?

Will I have enough money to buy pretty things and pay off my loan? I'll never have enough money to buy pretty things and pay off my loan.

Will I be a good driver? Will I get the kids in a car crash?

Am I going to turn into a grown up? Don't I want to be with my loved ones while I grow up?

Why am I going somewhere where I will be all alone?

What if I get in a fight with my hosts?

Wow, it feels really good asking all of these questions. I'm a little calmer now, though still short of breath.

What am I gonna do without my mom? My family? My friends? My cat? My lovah? My home?

I'll be back. I'll be back a thousand times hotter than I am now.

But the actual reality of this adventure has me all shook up.

ow.

Grumble grumble. Mmmmgroan. My head. *cough cough* ew. groan. my tummy... rrrrgh.

what the hell happened last night?

vague images of a veil...why am I dressed all in white? groan.

grumble. groan.

oh yeah. fake bachelorette party. groan.

did one of my friends hook up at least? yes...that's him in the shower. uh oh, what if he's still in there when I need the toilet? ugh. moan. toilet.

jaggermeister can kiss my ass.

groan. mmmmoan.

shut up cat.

ow. sitting up hurts.

need kd. groan.

never--and I mean it this time--ever doing that again.

Lost one too many of those brain cell things.

Ode to Skinny Rabbit

Showtime is brilliant. I love reading it. It thrills me.

His kicks are beyond incredible.

The best Hermionick we could have found. Watch him in Clairry Potter and the Goblet on Fire. Forget everyone else. He's the one who will make you laugh and cry and hurl.

My cousin.

He thinks he just can't do it alone--but he can.

He can shimmy with the best of them.

He's a pure divo.

He would make out with himself in the mirror like Sarah Silverman.

He eats pizza better than anyone I know.

He has the most amazing stuff. (including Golden Girls and the Muppet Show on DVD!)

The father of my cat.

I'm assuming he has a giant penis.

I taught him how to stage kiss--but he didn't need teaching.

He spends money like there's no tomorrow, but when the time came to step up and pay off his loan, he came through.

He thinks he can do it alone, but he gets by with a little help from his friends.

What a beautiful, talented, bright eyed, interesting, intelligent, pretty, sexual, skinny, silly, hilarious, crazy kid!

Do You Believe In Magic?

I love books. I mostly love books about books. I just started writing a book about books. and book lovers. I don't know what the plot is gonna be but it starts in a bookstore. any ideas? magical ideas? I can't write about a magical ring or sword or locket or wardrobe or flower. it's really tough to be original. how can I get them to another world in a way that's never been done before? and then I need a message. so far, it seems to be heading toward believing in magic and being a good friend. and reading.

books make me cry. they make me worry. they make me obsess. they make me shiver. they change my dreams at night and the way I view the world.

I don't like being in the audience of a theatre because I would rather be a part of the play. but being a part of the behind the scenes of a book involves writing it. I love being in the audience of a book, but it's bitter sweet because I want to be a part of the story. stories that can't happen. Do you know how many times I've tried to move things in my mind like Matilda? or looked in wardrobes? or tried to get sucked into the blank pages of a book? though I know it can't happen, it's so dissapointing when it doesn't.

I'm sure there are some things you wish were true, even if they're not as childish.

Oh well, maybe in writing a magical story about how "life isn't magical until one day..." I'll feel like it's a little more magical.

A Whole New World

Oh no! My roommate is Ariel, and I used to be Belle! (not for real like Miss Pants, just that I read and walk and...am her.) But now, with black hair, I am forced to remember my Arabic roots and be Jasmine. It's not so bad, but now I have to lose weight if I'm gonna wear her costume.

Snow White

2 things. 1) My lovah smells right now. His breath, his pits. He stinks. He's allowed to, it's morning before his shower.

2) My hair is now black. I'm very pleased with it as my transformation back into the warrior princesse I am begins. Now I just have to wait until it grows and then relearn how to fight. And float. And travel between worlds.

Stuff anyone?

I like people because of their stuff.

It sounds shallow, I know this, but "stuff" can mean so many things. For example, my fellow mermaid has a hell of a lot of stuff; she has corsets, frilly dresses, jewelry, fairies hanging from her ceiling, perfumes, a piano, nail polish, video game figurines, video games, pretty pictures, paint, games, a good printer, nice shoes, the best hair anyone will ever have, sparkly things to go in her hair, cool journals, cool pens to go with the journals, a kilt, a digeridoo, more lingerie than you can imagine, etc. I like her stuff and I like her because of her stuff. They are a window into who she is. Is that shallow? I can't tell sometimes, because I'm blinded by her stuff.

My former roommate (Neenia) does not have a lot of stuff. The stuff she has, I am obsessed with. Every simple, clean shirt she has is a wonder to me and the few pictures on her walls (her old walls) constantly amazed me. Her favourite movies (I still have Center Stage and Footloose--woops!) are often off the shelf as she or I or we are watching them all the time. Plus she has marshmallows or chocolate almonds or pita and hummus. I like her for those things. They are a part of who she is.

My oldest friend (as in I've known her the longest) is obsessed with making her own bath stuff. She has essential oils up the wazoo and a pestal and mortar with which she mixes stuff.

My brother has a super organised binder with every CD and every movie he owns. He brings it everywhere he goes.

My lovah has nice blazers that he looks good in. He has huge text books. He has Absynthe on a shelf next to a painting he is working on. He has a flask. He has an old type writer. He wants a bassoon very badly.

Gilbert's Girl has arts and crafts enough for a day care. She has a library. She has a pot of boiling water and a towl that she uses to steam her voice before she has to sing. She has a stuffed Simba. She has adorable PJ's.

My friend from the renaissance faire has a crazy buffy collection. She has fuzzy hand cuffs and a cat o' nine tails. Everything she has is green and black.

My old funny friend has a JTT lampshade. She has a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pillow case. She has Archie "Gag Bag" comics all over her wall.

If I haven't mentioned you, be sure I am in love with your stuff. Be sure I love you for your stuff. I hope that's not a bad thing.

That gets me thinking about my stuff, I have a pretty good collection, I think. I have a drum, I have 4 Superman lunchboxes and 23 Superman shirts, I have all the children's books you'll need. I have Aladdin, A Goofy Movie, The Little Mermaid and Newsies. I have a cat (he counts as stuff). I have a quill and ink. I have a book called Fairyopolis. I have the kind of candle holder you take down the hall at night in a creepy mansion and a white nightgown that goes with it. I have a magic wand. I have a lot of ribbons. I have red ballet shoes. I have scrapbooks. I have a turtle stool called Antonio Banderes. I have beautiful copies of Treasure Island and Peter Pan. I have a picture of me in an other world. I have a guitar named Cherry. I have a reversable corset. I have pirate boots. I have a small statue of a woman with hair down to her feet.

Hmm. I was going to say I wasn't happy with my stuff, that my stuff was cluttered and meaningless. But I have amazing stuff. I love me for my stuff. I am going to do my best to store it well, display it well. My stuff is a window into who I am.

Books, Dreams, Trains and Noses

Ah. I've just spent a glorious few days at my lovah's cottage. We went swimming and rowing and biking and driving and walking. I ate the most wonderful meals (his mother is a goddess in the kitchen) and saw a giant bull frog. I didn't have a book. I forgot the book I was reading (Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen) at my cousin's house. That is such a horrible thing, to lose a book. I felt like I was stripped from my world and the people I had grown used to.

I got a cd back that I had leant out and it makes me feel so comfortable.

I had a very, very scary dream involving the destruction of my workplace by a bad guy and I didn't know who was involved with him. it ended with my dad shooting strange missiles into the ground while chanting about armageddon. I don't know what that means, but it was horrible. Then, later in the morning, I dreamed that I couldn't find my place, I didn't know where I belonged in a strange school I somehow ended up in. I found my best friend who usually feels more out of place than I do and she was with a group of jazz musicians. They all looked so happy and I was so surprised to find that she found her place before I did, without even telling me or helping me. I was to take the jazz class and my best friend's group said there were no places left except one by a microphone and I had to take that one. We played "It Don't Mean a Thing If It Ain't Got That Swing" and I rocked it. The director made all the other singers stop to listen to me. Because I was taking risks. That made me feel good.

My lovah wanted to go for a bike ride with his little brother but my ass was still hurting from my own horrible bike ride the day before so I stayed back. As I said, I didn't have a book, so I found some paper and a pen and I wrote for two hours. I continued a story I had going that I thought I couldn't write anymore. But once I started, it wrote itself. I just need the middle now and a hell of a lot of dialogue. I know the atmosphere of the dialogue but not what they're actually saying...oh well. It'll write itself, I hope.

Trains suck. They are too expensive and if your phone runs out of power so you can't even play blockbreaker they are boring. I did like the snack trolley. I wish it was the Hogwarts Express I was riding, instead of Via Rail. I would love to be a professor at Hogwarts. I bet I would be a great charms teacher. Does that mean I'd have to be in Ravenclaw? I always tell people that I'm in Gryffendor, but I often question my own bravery. My lovah thinks I'm brave.

My nose is stuffed up. I would be talking funny if I were talking. By dose is stuffy. that's what I'd say.

I don't want to work toborrow. I hade serving. I get to babysit dext week and for the dext 6 weeks after. thed I get to teach a 6 year old girl and a 2 year old boy how to speak English. ID SWITZERLAND!

I'b going to try to clear my dose daturally but I will probably reduce to bedical bethods like otrivib. I'b addicted to that stuff.

Good dight.