My Copy Cat List

Things that make me happy:

A good blog.
Getting a day off work--even if it means having a horrible fever.
Reading crappy fantasy.
Prequels.
Soup when you're sick.
Getting mail.
When my cat sits on my chest.
Knowing someone so well you can say "you would."
EG's choice of words making me giggle, making him laugh, making me giggle again.
Chocolate almonds with Neenia.
Girly sleepovers with my fellow Mermaid.
Harry Potter.
When sim-Alathariel has a baby with sim-EG.
Learning to cook a new meal.
Getting something done.
Moving into a new house.
Being on stage.
Being backstage.
Scrubs.
Hanging out with Neenia and Skinny Rabbit and knowing it's absolutely necessary to perform all of RENT for ourselves.
Finding out that [title of show] is going to Broadway.
Writing a good song.
Getting a message from EG.
Planning what I'd do with a million dollars.
Camping.
Dressing up in costumes.
Speaking with an accent.
Reading good children's fantasy.
The superman symbol.
Knowing I'm going to live in England one day.
Listening to the Beatles.
Eating pasta.
Gruyeres cheese.
Magic.

Write your own!

Get Me OUT!

When is it going to stop?

I'm so sick of being ashamed of myself! I'm so sick of being panicked!

Shouldn't we put this in perspective? I'm not addicted to drugs. I'm not an alcoholic. I didn't get into a car crash, killing or injuring people. I haven't started or been a part of any wars. I didn't burn anyone's favourite book. I didn't steal anyone's boyfriend. I've never kidnapped anyone. I didn't even get an STD on my crazy year in Europe.

All I did was borrow a lot of money to go to theatre school and, because it's theatre school, have not been able to pay it back. It's not even that much money! But when the all want it back at the same time, how is that possible? It's not.

So I have to live with feeling bad until it's completely gone, and live with panic for most of that time, too.

in the words (and style) of e. e. cummings

l(a
le
af
fa
ll
s)
one
l
iness

A NEW New Song

After spending all of yesterday crying, I was quite drained of all things heavy. I wrote this simple song.


you bring the back up and I'll bring the tune
and we'll sit together one hot afternoon
we don't need a threepiece, we don't need a drum
just play guitar while I hum

you bring the melody, I'll bring the voice
the weather is perfect, the company's choice
I don't need make up, you don't need a shirt
just play guitar while I flirt

you bring the bass line and I'll bring the song
it's a duet so you should sing along
we don't need money and we don't need plans
just play guitar while I dance

you bring the rhythm and I'll bring the blues
we'll turn off our phones and we'll take off our shoes
we don't need much, no we don't need a lot
all that we need we have already got
as long as you're near me, I don't need a thing
just play guitar while I sing


I find it funny because plans and dance barely rhyme when I sing it, but if an Englishman were to sing it, it wouldn't rhyme at all!

I like singing. It makes me feel good. It's important. People don't know it. They're trying to fill holes in the world with money. They see a hole in the world and they fill it with more money and wonder why there are still holes. I know you can fill it with art. It's okay if they don't, because I don't understand the money part. We'll each do our duty. I know my duty is art, even if it goes unnappreciated by the money people. I know it's important. I know it's helping all of us. Even if the money people send me to the street, I'll keep singing and the world will be better for it.

That's what I need to do...not be selfish. I know it seems like art is selfish but I know it's not. I'm going to try and dedicate today to making other people smile (I sound so preachy--there's still a racist homophobe who makes fun of AIDS in here, don't worry...) to see how it feels and then I'll try to do that forever. I'm also going for a jog today. Is it possible for people to change so drastically this quickly? I might as well try.

ps this has been the blog of a crazy person, obviously. I'm just SO weighed down right now, by so many different things, I'm finding it hard to be myself!!!

The (other) Romance Song

when a girl asks you what you're thinking
you should always say "about you,
about your eyes, your smile, and your tiny waist
oh i love you!"

but when i ask you what you're thinking
you say "nothing, nothing at all."
then you grin that vacant boy grin
and you wonder why i am appalled.

but you say
"romance can't be found in three little words
or in flowers or diamonds on a ring.
roses aren't gonna tell you how i feel."
you know i hate it when you're right
and i love picking fights.

why don't you just say what i wanna hear?

what do you think it means to be happy?
how do you think that i should react
when my best friends all become brides?
i'm running out of tact!

i don't hear "dear, i'll always be with you
'cause our love is the forever kind!"
though you care, i compare when i'm drowning in couples
there's no out of sight out of mind.

and you say
"romance can't be found in three little words
or in flowers or diamonds on a ring.
roses aren't gonna tell you how i feel."
you know i hate it when you're right
and i love picking fights

why don't you just say what i wanna hear?

when i step back i see that i'm happy,
i just glow and i know that it's always for you!
you don't need to feed my girly obsessions--
i only want you.

if you tell me all of your secrets
if you let me in on the joke
if you make me your partner in crime
i'll make you the worlds happiest bloke.

i know romance can't be found in three little words
or in flowers or diamonds on a ring
roses aren't gonna tell me how you feel
i know you're always right
i won't put up a fight

what you say is just what i wanna hear.

My Swiss Family

I didn't mention this on any blog, but I lost my hotmail and facebook accounts a lot of months ago! It's kind of a good thing because I don't have to re-add all my old grade school "friends" but it's a HORRIBLE thing because it means I lost so many contacts, especially my SWISS FAMILY who I've been dying to talk to for so long!!!!!!!!!!!!

My overseas friends, please contact me at my new email address riceclaire@gmail.com or on skype! I added you, but you haven't accepted, I guess you're never on it.

I miss you all so so much! I'm desperate to know how everyone's doing, how big the kiddies are, if the house is finished, everything! Please let me know! I love you!

Learn From My Triumphs, Not My Mistakes

Dude, when you like, do stuff, and get shit done, shit gets done and it feels good!

I should do this more often.

I Want

I'm a little self absorbed. A lot. I'm an actress. I think it's in my blood. I'm also absorbed in the people around me, the ones I like anyway. If I weren't in a hole, I'd focus on making all of our lives better.



I'm confused about what I want. I'm craving permanance and excitement at the same time. Thrills and reassurance. I can't have that. Like...I was thinking of "stuff" I want and one of the first things I thought of was a home. I want a place to be my permanant home. My life is so temporary. I want my place with my things in my neighbourhood. With EG. Who feels like home. But then I think about it, and I don't care where I live. I want to travel, I want to live everywhere and anywhere. I do want to be with EG. With him, I'll have security everywhere I go. I'll have thrills within reassurance.



I want babies. I really don't want babies. (note to all blogging buddies who don't want babies at all--don't judge, we're all different! I feel a really strong pull and it's coming from my uterus. Deal with it.) I really do because in my mind, a family represents a part of my life where I have my shit together. I really don't because I'm not ready and most of me doesn't need my shit together! It's the rest of the world telling me how I have to be!



I don't want to work, but I really want to feel like I'm accomplishing something, paying off my debt by myself, taking care of myself and my life (and my cat).



I want to get skinny but I want the world to love me the way I look now. (that's an old one, but it will aply forever.)



I want to go to England, but I want EG to come here.



I want to go back to school and get my masters in Scotland but I want to start my career right now and never be a student again.



I want to be my best friend's maid of honour, but I want her to be mine! I'm completely resigned to the fact that I won't be getting married for a long time, I'm happy with it, but I'm so jealous that how can I be happy with it???



I really just want to live off the land, go swimming every day, make art and music, learn to cook, stroll into an orchard and grab a peach, drink interesting red wine and dance after twilight in a flowy dress. Is there a way to live like that?


There's a line in Cabaret: Suppose simply keeping still means you manage until the end.

What I don't want is to survive my life keeping still. I want to live my life. I want to move. So I guess I need to suffer sometimes. It means I'm living.

*Next blog, I'll talk about other people...

This Side of February

Wow, it's been a really long time, but I'm kind of tapped out. Everything I feel like writing about, I've already written about.

You know I love EG, you know I love performing, you know I'm broke. That's pretty much my life right now...

I'm in a bit of a rut, as you know, but feeling good about it. I'm moving in with my mom again! I'm excited! It's going to be such fun, we're going to redecorate all three bedrooms (and I'm going to convince her to do the living room too...) and it'll be an awesome bonding experience before I go away with my man for the summer. I can save, pay off debt, chill with my home-homeys, bogart my mom's long distance plan, eat 3 meals a day--oh my god, my mom and I can exercise together! I'm going to get the fuck in shape! Sweet. Yes, I'm really looking forward to March. It's going to be a good month.

This is a good month too. I'm a performer. I love it. It makes me horny. I want to do it forever.

EG wants me to do it forever. He's so supportive. He said he gets breathless thinking about the show and really feels he's missing out by not seeing it. He can only afford 100 pounds for a plane ticket, but the cheapest I could find is 200. (Couldn't I have found that in December?) I miss him so much. Waking up without him is the hardest. Going to bed has been easy because I'm so tired, but I want him in the morning. It has a bigger effect on me than the winter's lack of sunlight. I feel actual heartache. I hope my absence makes his heart grow fonder. I think it is. It's funny, I kind of miss being in his bed more than I miss him being in my bed. I loved it there. But that might simply have to do with the fact that I had no responsibilities when I was there. I love taking care of him, but I don't have the means! When we go on vacation, it'll be every man for himself. Well, I've kind of decided that he'll pay for the food and I'll cook it and eat a fifth of what he eats. Fair? I think so.

Well, that's my new blog. Incoherent mumbling, unorganised rambling, girly prattling. You love me.

How do you feel, Alathariel?

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i love him.

Mini Me

I had a dream that I had a baby girl. My cousins and I were taking pictures of her, "ooh she's so cute!" ing her, saying how much she looked like me. Well, she was me. It was weird. I know what I looked like when I was a baby, so naturally that's what a dream baby of mine would look like. She was adorable. In my dream she was nearly two. (When people become parents, they count the baby's months until the kid is 4 years old. It's annoying.)

Dreams have huge impacts on our lives. I want a baby. I did before, but seeing this wonderful little mini me made me want one more.

But ...psychologists might say that I want my childhood back. And I do. I want to be new again (to quote Adaptation).

But... also, I just want a baby. I want my little girl. I think Isabella. Or Isabelle. Izzie, either way. And I want my little boy who is nameless at the moment but he will be a mini EG. Who wouldn't want a mini EG? My little gentlman and little lady. Life will certainly be so good. It's so good now, but babies would give me something more. Being a nanny all the time shows me how wonderful it is to have kids. Once, the mom in Switzerland, who seemed pretty stressed about the day to day mundane-ness that is work, was playing with her baby and she suddenly said: "Oh, have kids, Alathariel, it's the best thing that will ever happen to you."

I want the best thing that will ever happen to me!

If You Try Sometimes

You just might find you get what you need?

The operative words here being "sometimes" and "might."

I know someone who is a lucky, lucky girl.

I love her very much. She's my best friend, I've always wanted to be like her. She's a wonderful human being, full of light and energy and together we are going to take the world by storm!

She doesn't need anything. Well, that's not true, she needed a boy. A Nice Boy. And she's found one.

Once she found him, she didn't need anything. She owns a place, she has no debt, she has a job she's good at and parents to fall back on if anything goes wrong. She has great friends who love her, she has the coolest clothes in the world and she is full of good times. In need of nothing.

But she's getting EVERYTHING. Everything she's ever wanted. No, actually, she's getting everything I ever wanted. How is that fair? She doesn't want a house and a marriage and babies! But she's getting them! She didn't need financial stability! But she's getting it.

I don't begrudge her these things, I'm happy for her! I want her to be happy. But why can't I have them, too?

Karma must be real. Hers is amazing and mine is shot. I guess I'll work on it and see what happens. I'll try sometimes and get what I need.

Limbo

I am in a sickening rut. When I'm with a friend, or anyone really, I feel good. I'm on, I'm happy, I'm me. When I'm talking to EG, I feel good, I'm on, I'm happy, I'm me. When I'm alone...I'm lost. I'm stuck. I can't sit down, that's too lazy. I can't stand up, I don't know what to do. I feel completely overwhelmed with responsibility and loneliness.

I can't get myself out. I need people. I need people to kick my ass, but everyone I love is so fucking understanding!

Sleepless

Can someone stop me from thinking EG is sleeping with someone else just because I don't hear from him at night?

Except what I really need is someone to stop me from caring that he is.

The Rain in Spain Stays Mainly in the Plain

This is going to be a good blog. Not because of the writing. Because of the content.

I told EG about the Die Vampire, Die! song because he wasn't sure if he was an artist, and that's a vampire. And I said we'd kill all the vampires in our way. And he loved the idea, and he said he loved killing vampires. He wants to go to Spain for the summer to learn Spanish and he asked what I thought about that. I said it would be killing lots of vampires to do so and that I liked the idea! ...but that I like all of his ideas more when they involve me. So the next message said:  "Princesse Alathariel, there's no one like you. Would you like to live in Spain with me for the Summer?"

So...guess what I'm doing this summer?

The I'm -copying-everyone-else New Year's Post!

New Years and stuff...hmm.

Well, last year, I wanted the stuff from the Wizard of Oz:  Brains, Heart, Courage and Home.

I think I'm a little smarter.

I definitely use my heart the way I'd like to.

I don't know about courage...hmm...Have I been brave lately? I think so. I could always be braver.

I don't feel at home yet. In Toronto, in my apartment, in my own skin.

I miss my lovah. More than anything. All I can do is achieve my new new years resolutions (we made them together right before midnight on Dec 31st, at the lodge where we went skiing!):

1. Get out of debt. This is the most important thing in my life right now. How depressing is that? How boring! Oh well, it's necessary.

2. Get an agent.  yup, I'm on my way.

3. Get three paying gigs. Must get agent first.

4. Put on 3 Bottom's Dream (my theatre company) shows. One's booked for March, 2 are being written.

5. Get in shape. Again, boring. But it doesn't have to be. I just want to be skinny and healthy and glowing all the time. And I want to be able to take the stairs without losing my breath. 

Now I want all these things for myself...but is it bad that my main motivation is EG? I want him to love me and want to see me all the time. I feel like accomplishing these things quickly and spectacularly will result in us being together forever.

How I miss him. 

But I'm trying to stay positive. I keep telling myself I'm amazing and I will accomplish everything I need to and then I'll be so happy and happy people get what they want. Or is it people who get what they want become happy? Oh well, I think it's cyclical and I'm doing it.  I'm fucking spectacular and therefore I will get what I want.

I should probably get back to work now.

Office Musings

None of the blog circle read my most recent post.

But EG did. And he freaked out. Because I'm a psychopath.

And I learned something again.

He's always right.

I also learned that I love him more than I thought I did.

It really did sound like I'm not happy, like I want more.

I don't want more for now. I'm happy for now. But I managed to make him understand that the fear kicks in because I know the exact date when I won't be happy anymore.

I wrote all that because a) I wanted to get it out, and indeed, I didn't really think of it since I wrote it, and b) I'm trying not to give all the marvelous details. I'm trying to add a little mystique to this experience. I can't tell you all what the sex is like. I just can't, it's too good. I can't tell you what sleeping with him or waking with him is like. It's too amazing. I can't tell you how fucking fantastic it feels every time he kisses me in thanks for a meal, or holds my hand, or laughs at my accent, or makes me laugh like a child, or shows me his dissertation, or looks at me.

It's too perfect to discuss. I'm just living it.

Well, not now, now I'm at work, wishing I was at home with him. I hope I can leave early, his smell is starting to leave my senses and I want it back in there. I want to immerse myself in all things English Gentleman until the second he has to leave me. 

I will not think about that moment until that moment.

I will not break down until then.

Just a Girl

Just as I predicted. I'm in heaven.

Pure bliss.

Interrupted occasionally with near tear experiences triggered by sudden fear of never seeing this perfect man ever again, or the terrifying fact that he says I'm "the best," something my ex insisted on saying in lieu of "I love you."

I've had friends explain why I neeeeeed to hear the words. I've had friends say it's unimportant, and I've had friends look immediately bewildered, angry and worried upon learning he hasn't said it yet.

I want not to neeeeeed him to say it. But I want him to say it. Will it solve all my problems if he simply says it? If I hear him say it, will it make me believe he'll want to see me again? That he'll try to see me again? That he'll want to move here? That he'll continue to keep me wet all day long and fuck me mercilessly all my life? That he'll support me forever and keep me warm and safe in his big arms for as long as we both shall live?

I don't think so. I would not expect all those things if he told me he loved me. So why does he feel all the pressure? Is that the problem? That he feels pressure? I'm pretty pushy about this, I guess. I scared the last one. But this one's different. He doesn't scare so easily.

So what's the problem? Does he not love me? Has he met me? What's not to love?

Does he just not say it? To anyone, ever? If we get to be together forever, I wouldn't mind if he never said it.

So someone remind me why I neeeeed to hear it? He's HERE. It was hell to get him here, on my side and on his. He's happy here. Happy with me.

Qu'est-ce que fuck is my problem?????

But also, qu'est-ce que fuck is his problem? Why won't he just say it????? This is agony! Looking up into his perfect light marble blue eyes and watching him kiss my hand with the softest deep pink plush lips in the world, hearing his views on anything, the fact that he makes football seem like an art, the fact that he worships my voice, tells me never to let anyone make me feel bad because I'm an "amazing woman," reading his brilliant paper, his arrogance, his wonky tooth, his accent, his manners, his mannerisms, his long body, his nakedness, his dick, his nose, his gifts, his surprises, his sharpness, his softness, his oohs, his kisses.

The best kind of agony, but agony nonetheless.

That makes it sound like not heaven, not bliss. It is heaven, it is bliss.

I'm just a girl.

A Little More Action

Sex sex sex. That's what's on my mind. The sex part of EG's Great Canadian Food Sex and Football Christmas Adventure is exciting me to no end. I have been looking up games online, positions in books, thinking of my own fun mystery objects, treats and activities!

If any of you are feeling particularly sexual, wanna give me some ideas? Tips? Games? Positions? Anything is welcome and just waiting to be tried!

I can't wait to have sex with EG! A million times a day please. If he's not eating or watching football, he should be fucking me. That's the rule of this trip.

I really am going to be sore by the end of this...

Drunken Texts, Censorship and Body Odour

 I just wrote a lot only to delete it all realising I haven't blogged certain details that might be crucial to this rant.

So about two weeks ago, I saw Enchanted (best movie ever!) and instantly felt like a lovely, innocent, naive princess who believes whole heartedly in true, true love who suddenly finds herself in the "real world" where there are no happy endings. I didn't want to make EG suffer my insanity, so I decided to get really drunk and text my ex, yelling at him for saying he was "still very much in love" with me. I thought I had a good reason! I was scared that it was going to be like that with all boys! That they would freak out when I said the dreaded word, and then when I had enough of their fear and reluctance, they would suddenly realise that they loved me more than life itself. That's a horrible fate! So I thought if I could yell at my ex, I'd purge myself of that fear and be able to believe in true, true love without doubt, no matter how little the object of my desire says. He is a big strong man after all, I don't want a pansy. 

Follow? I wouldn't blame you if you said no.

So I start texting him and he texts back all offended and REASONABLE! What the hell right does he have to be rational and logical and reasonable when I want a fight?!? Anyway, he made some really good points, but I still think I'm right. He said he thinks it's right that we're not together but he's still in love with me. I say, that's not love. He said I had no right to claim I'm the only one who knows what love is, and that there are different kinds of love. Okay, but isn't it pretty straight forward at least on one point: If you love someone, you want to be with them! He doesn't love me, not in any big way, or else he'd fight for me. I'm right here! If you love me, then you want to be with me! If you don't want to be with me, then you don't love me! Jeez. 

Anyway, at around 3am our time, 8am England time, I get a call from EG! I was so excited "EG!" I cried, "You called me when you woke up! How lovely!" and he said, in his beautiful English Accent: "I just got this text. It says 'Because I'm drunk and it's true. And I want to deal with this with you so I don't have to deal with it with EG.' What does that mean?" INSTANT TEARS. I explained everything and he was very upset but the conversation ended with him making me giggle and we're fine now. Better than fine! He's coming soon!  I'm so excited! Anyway, I kept getting more texts from my ex and I finally sent back "forget it, I'm done." 

Bitch, I know.

He said "okay, I hope everything works out for you and if you want to try again to be friends someday, just let me know."

Asshole, right?

So! The other day, I got an email from my ex saying he was in Montreal doing his LSATs and he was feeling lonely so he checked my facebook (big mistake) and it made him sad, and then he read ALL my blogs since we broke up. WTF! The crazy thing is that he said it made him feel better! He understands now! He understands everything! He said he gets what I wanted and how he couldn't give it to me and he hopes he can find what I found one day! What a weirdo. But what a relief! Anyway, I definitely have to send him a HUGE apology for being such a bitch.

What I wanted to discuss was censorship. We're about due for another censorship discussion, right?

Is blogging when you don't want someone to read your blog just as bad as talking behind someone's back? But it's not like gossip because it's about me! How I feel about someone! But knowing he's could very possibly read this, is it wrong to post something that will surely offend him? I like getting my feelings out this way, via blog. It makes little passing thoughts into momentous events preserved forever on the world wide web. It's as close as I'm going to get to immortality, and I want a little piece of that. I'd rather keep a scrapbook containing millions of little things or big things or medium things than forget it all. I'd rather keep memoirs in blog form than keep these thoughts to myself. I need to clean out my head and read what was in there in a pretty purple font on a pink page followed by funny or helpful comments from those whose opinions I value.

So I'm gonna go with No, it's not wrong. I'm easily swayed to the argument that lets me do what I want. 

Here's what I wanted to say.

I work with my ex's brother. I don't know if this is possible, but they are EXACTLY the same person. Is it possible? It can't be. Each calls the other "weird" but I have not observed ONE difference in personality, mannerisms, voice, smell, idiosyncrasies. It's insane. 

Now, here's the funny thing. 

About a month ago, said brother's smell made me feel a little sad and nostalgic. The smell of his sweater, really. My ex's laundry was always the best. Perfect boyfriend sweaters, the kind you just want to steal. The brother's body odor (gross as it sounds) used to make me feel sad and nostalgic too. Like a fond sigh remembering good times. 

Now, everything he says and does and smells like makes me want to scream! Okay, not that extreme, but bro just walked by and his smell made me nauseous. How is that possible? How did I become so disgusted by something that used to make me excited, happy, wet, comfortable, sad and nostalgic? 

I don't understand it. I just wanted to fill the world in on what walking by can do to a person. We are powerful!

what do you want from me?/is that so much to ask?

What do you want from me? My last post was super serious! I feel like I have nothing just because I don't have any money! For people who have it, or who are getting by, it may not seem like anything, it may seem funny that I'm counting pennies to take the subway, that I'm avoiding my roommates, some friends, the bank, the creditors and my own poor mother, that I'm going into banks and begging for loans that they shouldn't give me, that I'm lying to EVERYONE about anything to do with money and hurting people who don't deserve it in the process. But it's not funny at all. It's devastating.

I really feel like I've hit rock bottom, but the worst part is, there's far lower to go! I could get myself and my roommates evicted and have to live with my mom who has no room for me. And she doesn't really have to take me in because I, for lack of a more fitting word, steal from her. Consistently. And she can't afford me anyway. So there is lower to go and I'm afraid that there's some ridiculous Karma rule that I have to end up as low as I can go before I'm allowed to get better again. Not better, not again, I've never been good. I mean I have to hit the bottom before I can rise up a little for the first time. I know what to do now, really. I'm a law clerk! I make money! But I can't catch up! I don't know what to do to get myself to the point where I can do what I know to do. You know?

I talk a lot about winning the lottery, being a trophy wife, a gazillionaire. Oh the things I could do! I could own a private jet and see EG whenever I wanted! I could take my best friends on shopping sprees around the world! I could start a theatre, a warrior princesse TV show, a movie production company, a children's book store, a music label, a campaign against directors who only cast skinny people! I could get a personal trainer, a nutritionist, a personal chef, a stylist, a tailor! I could have a castle that comes to life with the wave of a wand and choice latin words spoken only in my voice. I could have a condo in Toronto, London, New York, a cottage in BC, on the Isle of Wight, somewhere in New Zealand...

I could have all those things, but I'm not asking for them. I just want to start fresh. I just want to be at zero.

Is that so much to ask?

Ain't Got No/I Got Life

ain't got no cash,
ain't got no shoes,
ain't got no bus pass,
ain't got no bread,
ain't got no work clothes,
ain't got no computer,
ain't got no ipod,
ain't got no umbrella,
ain't got no rent checks,
ain't got no skype,
ain't got no medicine,
ain't got no contacts,
ain't got no conditioner,
ain't got no milk,
ain't got no socks,
ain't got no razors,
ain't got no underwear,
ain't got no birth control pill,
ain't got no eyes on me (that means respect from the kids I teach)
ain't got no dentist
ain't got no christmas gifts
ain't got no winter boots
ain't got no bike
ain't got no lingerie
ain't got no long distance plan
ain't got no 20-20 vision


I got my head
I got my hands
I got my mind
I got my feet
I got my tits
I got my mouth
I got my hair
I got my sense of humour
I got my shimmy
I got my blog
I got my friends
I got my room
I got my hat
I got my ears
I got my EG
I got my songs
I got my books
I got my vibrator
I got my script
I got my voice
I got my memories
I got my ass
I got my plans
I got my tea
I got my mom
I got my dreams

I got life
life
life
life
LIFE!

Nothing but Sex/Christmastime is Here!

I suck for not blogging. I know this. And I'm ashamed to say, there's not much to say. I love my English Gentleman. Do you think it's easy to be far away from him? The answer is no, it is not easy. Do I talk about him all the time? Yes. Do I think about him all the time? Yes. Have I become a slightly one dimensional character because of this? Yes, I think so. Would I give any of it up for anything? No.

Do I still hate money? Yes. Do I still need it? Yes.

Do I love performing? Yes. And getting better at it all the time? Yes.

Do I like flirting with my girlfriends? Yes. Wait, I think this is new. Well, I have this thing where I flirt with my girlfriends. And by girlfriends, I mean just one friend. It's hot. Because she is. (giggle giggle!!)

Can I wait until EG gets here? NO!!!

Enough with the question answer thing Alathariel.

I'm planning a HUGE surprise for my man. Involving Food Sex and Football. It's called My English Gentleman's Great Canadian Food Sex and Football Christmas Adventure. I start with a song, then I show him the introduction booklet, then I give him the packages by section. Starting with food. I show him the menus for Chez Alathariel which includes about 30 dishes I now can make. There are also take out menus, and a list of cool restaurants we can go to whenever he wants. And there will be a list of pubs that show his games. Which brings us to football! I will have a schedule of all the games he can watch as well as the list of pubs where he can watch them and I will also wake up to print out all the sports updates from skysportsnews.com or something. Which brings us to the funnest of all! SEX! There will be Kama Sutra books, a book called Yoga for Lovers (because he started doing Yoga with his housemate, cutest thing ever!), and a wide arrangement of necessary supplies. And here's the best of the best. EG likes surprises, so I'm putting together a mystery sex bag! Inside will be handcuffs, a blindfold, coupons, position ideas, roleplaying ideas, costumes, a whip, a vibrator, and anything else amazing I can think of. I'M SO EXCITED!

***

My new roommates are HILARIOUS. They're ninjas. This is the ninja house. But don't tell them that, it's so ninja, they don't even know it's called that.

In the Ninja House, it's already Christmastime. We put up the tree today because there won't be time later! I was so happy!!! Christmas can't come quick enough.

An Adult Now

I don't believe it myself.

I'm using jargon.

I'm using the word jargon.

I'm speaking to doctors and requesting information.

I'm contacting the purolator people to quabble about cheques.

I'm printing cheques.

I'm a witness.

I'm wearing a pencil skirt and tights and I have make up on.

I'm faxing.

I'm wanting to kill the printer.

I know what a civil litigator is.

I'm using letterheads.

I have office voice mail and a work email address.

I'm typing cover letters.

I have a coffee mug.

I gossip with the receptionist.

I say things like "I'm gonna skip lunch and head out early."

I call important people and say "Hello, this is Alathariel calling from Mr Lawyer Boss's office, I'm wondering if it's possible to reschedule your meeting with Mr Lawyer Boss from November second to anytime after the 7th? On the 12th? Preferably in the morning? That's fine, thank you!"

I'm in an office, at a desk, on a giant mac!

I'm blogging while at work.

yup. I'm an adult now.

Englishtastic

Seriously. I mean, people make jokes that I only love EG because of his accent (and height and gorgeousity) and I brush them off because it's not true. I love him for his ideas, his voice, his eyes, his passion, his creativity, his appreciation of me, his appreciation of all things amazing, he love of sex, his love of football, his penis in my vagina, his need to travel and learn, his need to be a Buddhist monk but with me there so we can "break the rules together." Everything about him, I love. Everything. Well, not where he is when where he is is not where I am, but aside from geography, everything.

Though...he is English. And holy motherfucker is that sexy. Everything he says to me is heightened because of the accent. Like sweet things are a gazillion times sweeter when he says them and cool things are a gazillion times cooler and sexy things... oh man, just bend me over and fuck me mercilessly when EG starts to talk dirty. I can't take it.

I was just in a girly discussion about dirty discussion. A friend tells me that she loves the dirty talk. And I mean filthy. And not just the talk but stuff too. Filthy stuff. Aaaaand, it turns out the conversation itself was turning me on, so I thought I'd better talk about it with my man. So I did. I said a friend gave me courage to ask him to do stuff that I'd like to try. And the second he said "like what?" I got nervous. Well, I was at a bus stop so I really couldn't say stuff. But I hinted until he got really impatient and then I hinted a little more strongly until he guessed some of the things. And then there was silence. And then he said "I could do that." And just as I was getting worried he was turned off by my wanting that, he said "I love that you want that. That is so sexy." And then, and this is my favourite part, he said "you're in big trouble."

And I think I died. He kept trying to tell me he was serious and that I should live my last few months without him as if they were the last in my life because I was going to "get it" when he gets here. hee hee!!! I'm so excited.

part 2

I just saw Across the Universe and am now in love with Jude. Fucking sexy. Singing with a Liverpool accent is sex on a stick.

There's something in the way she moves
Attracts me like no other lover.

Big Blonde and Beautiful

I want to be black. Now. Someone make it happen.

I love being called "a truly amazing woman." By a man. By an English man. By an English man who I love and think is also a truly amazing woman. But not woman. Man. English man. You get it.

Slice off a piece of that hog head cheese
Then take a look inside my book of recipes
Now, don't you sniff around for something fluffy and light
I need a man who brings a man-size appetite!

Singing and dancing and loving fat women and black women alike makes me feel wonderful.

Isn't it funny that wrists gross me out but touching my own eyeball doesn't make me flinch in the least?

Why doesn't everyone have a massage chair.

I am thankful for being home. And I am thankful for having met EG. And I am thankful for theatre. And I am thankful for my friends. And I am thankful for Spaghetti Bolognaise. And I am thankful for Hairspray. And I am thankful for teenage hearthrob Zac Efron.

Suddenly, after turkey tonight, I'm in the mood for green chicken curry coconut soup.

I hope my new room will be sufficiantly purple. Like the apartment I imagine Neenia and I living in.

If I didn't have to play a poor drug addict, I would be so incredibly proud of my body right now.

I offer big love with no apology
How can I deny the world the most of me?

Pukey

Skinny Rabbit wants me to move to England. Is that because he doesn't want me near him? Or because he believes in Love?

I believe in a thing called love. Though, not so much in that song, it got old fast. Love is like oxygen. Love is a many splendored thing. Love lifts us up where we belong. All you need is love.

Are you throwing up yet?

The other day I said something lovely (as usual) on the phone to EG and he said "Oh, Alathariel, why do you love me so?" (Really, this is how he talks.) And I said "I don't know," but then I listed all the reasons that I frequently give all of you. He loves that I love him. He has a big ego that needs to be massaged a lot. I like being the one to massage it. I like making him happy.

You know what makes me happy? When he says my name. I used to think it sounded funny because my real name has an "r" sound at the end and those Englishmen like to not pronounce those kinds of things. But now, I love love love it when he says my name. I was in a cab once talking to him and he said it and I said "I love that, say it again." And when he did, I giggled, of course. So he said it again. And I giggled again. And then he wouldn't stop saying it and man did I ever get excited. It's embarrassing to get that horny in a cab. As if the driver could see me blushing or hear my heart pounding in the crouded nighttime traffic jam.

***

I need to lose weight.

I need to eat.

The solution?

Working out?

Throwing up?

Both?

I try not to eat after 6pm and then my new ninja roommate serves me saussages and cheese at midnight. I now love him.

I try to walk everywhere only to learn that that burns nothing and I cannot lose weight, I just get blisters. At least I'm not polluting.

I try to eat often but small portions. But you can't make small portions of spaghetti. Ooh...I have leftover spaghetti at home...

I try to eat three solid meals a day. Big breakfast, medium lunch, small or no dinner. Who the fuck can wake up at 6am and cook a huge breakfast and stomach it? Not moi!

I try to eat well and get outside and be active. I've been doing that for...a week now. And I want results! Where are my results!

I need instant gratification, por favor! I need to fit into hot things now! I need to start purging everything I binge! It can't be that bad for you! I need to spend all my money on some form of drug that makes me feel full, taste things like cheese and chocolate and steak, lose weight and be fit.

OR

I need a personal...person. If I had a personal person to tell me what to do all the time and help me do it (i.e. eat 5 small meals and then make me the meals) then I'd do it! And I'd have someone to talk to all the time. I get strangely lonely when I'm alone. Even for a short amount of time. I think being alone under willow trees for a year took a lot out of me. Anyway, someone send me a personal person to make me do stuff. Then my body will drive you wild with desire.

As if it doesn't now...

Untitled

My heart hurts with lack of English Gentleman. It's a disease. It must be cured. It will be on December the 14th, so I have to stay strong until then. There are a few treatments until then. The first is theatre and I'm about to sink my teeth into the best role I could ever get in musical theatre. The second is chocolate and I will keep a large supply of the dark stuff for emergencies (it'll be gone by next week). The third is friends and they've already kept me happy and sane. God I love them.

In other news, it seems as though my life is coming together in a way I've been hoping it would for a while. I'm going to be an assistant in a very cool lawyer's office, I'll be babysitting a couple days a week which actually pays a fortune, and I'll be teaching 4 ish classes a week. "Ish" because I think I'll only be assisting in 2 of them. I'm rehearsing for a musical, like I said the best part ever, and I'm co-putting on a burlesque show. I'm doing a kids birthday party this weekend (Anne of Green Gables themed) which will get me started in the department of doing kids birthday parties.

Hmm. Maybe it doesn't sound like much considering I want to be a movie star. I think I'm on my way though.

In the meantime, I have to fix this ache in my heart. Heartache I think it's called. It's hurting me and rendering me incapable of happiness when I'm alone. I hate being alone. I think I've grown allergic to it. I'm so done with it now. I'm so glad I have good company most of the time. I think I can't babysit every day as it's very lonely, even when the baby's awake and giggling. It just leaves me to my heartachy thoughts. And I have a lot of those. I don't think of much else when I'm alone. I hum to myself (to the tune of "Once Upon a Dream" from Sleeping Beauty) and think "EG is hot, EG is great, I love EG. The next time he comes here he will fuck me in this or that position and then I'll cook him breakfast. And I'm going to wear purple flowers in my hair at our wedding and our babies will be named Sebastian and Isabella.."

Should I move to England? I believe I have him wrapped around my little finger, so I think we'll end up here, but before that...before he's finished school, like next spring...should I move to England? Get a role in the West End while he becomes a sports psychologist? We could have a flat in London. Just the two of us. Ruling London town. Then we go to Toronto together, I get my theatre up and running and my TV show gets picked up and he can play for the Toronto FC.

"Are you an idiot?"
"No sir, I'm a dreamer."

The Life of the Party

I have to copy the Prince a little here. Needs vs Wants and so on...

"The Life of the Party" is...I think opposite of me.

Who needs money?
Not me.
Who needs fortune or fame?
I don't need a new career,
A sympathetic ear,
A name.

Okay, I do. I need all of those things. To survive? No, of course, I don't need any of those things.
But who's living just to survive? Can I meet those people and pinch them? I need those things to do what I want to do, to be where I want to be!

All I need is time to play,
Only want the game.

Listen, Kate from The Wild Party the Off-Broadway version, you can have all the time in the world to play, but how are you going to survive? I know you're not living just for survival, neither am I, don't lecture me. But survival is still an integral part of life. If you want to live you have to survive.

Point me to the mic
I know what I like!

Okay, that rhymes, that's why that's in there. But I do like the mic. So the song isn't my opposite. But mostly.

Who needs lovers?
Not I.
Who needs heaven above?
Don't have time for things unsaid,
For baking bread,
For love.

Okay, I'm starting to realise that, yeah, this Kate character is the life of the party, but I guess the play is trying to show that she's shallow. I hope anyway. I hope nobody expects me to not need lovers and heaven and mysteries and bread and love.

Love, bread, things unsaid, heaven, lovers--those things are the life of the party!

A name, a sympathetic ear, a new career, fame, fortune, money--icing, I guess? Well, I like icing, and I need it on my birthday cake.

Bodderfucker!

I'm sick.

I have an audition that I was very excited for and now my throat hurts and my nose is stuffed!!!

Why???

Lovesick!

So!!! I've been skimping on the deets lately. I don't know what to say to fill everyone in, but I know what to say about right now and must get it out!

EG just called me and said, "Okay, Alathariel. Do you still think I'm wonderful?" And I said "Of course I do! You're amazing!" And then he said, "And do you still want to see me?" And I said "Yes, I do!" And then he said "Well, I want to see you again. So let's do this. Let's make it happen."

And so we planned.

He said that we work the same way: we do what our hearts tell us to do and then we make our brains catch up.

I love him. I love love love him.

I'm (money pending) going to see him at the end of October, beginning of November ish and he's coming for Christmas. I think for two and a half weeks.

At one point, he said "You seem pretty chill." And I said "Well, I'm really excited, you're making me so happy but I'm not surprised." And I'm not. I knew he'd want to see me. I was already looking up prices to go see him and for him to come to me for Christmas.

I've been hungry for hours now and I can't eat. Can't-eat-can't-sleep-shout-it-from-rooftops kind of love!!!

I asked him what brought this on and he said his friend (Frenchie's lovah) got home today and he hugged him for a long time. And they went out for drinks and talked a lot and he really missed me but it didn't make him sad, it made him excited. Because he knew he wanted to see me again and that he could do that. God, he loves me so much it's disgusting. He makes kissy noises into the phone! Even I don't do that! Then he says "you've reduced me to a fucking chick!"

We ended the conversation like this "EG, just go to sleep now (it was really late for him) and don't be sad, you can dream about me so you won't be alone. I'll even go to bed early so I can dreamwalk and we can see each other!" And he laughed really hard and said "Oh Alathariel, you truly are a superstar."

Back to Feet

You know what whomps? When you spend a lot of time having wicked hot sex and then it gets taken away from you.

I have to get back on my feet now, but they've been up over my head for so long, I don't know if I can do it.

a Mark a Yen a Buck or a Pound

Money money money
Must be funny
In a rich man's world

Who is this rich man who laughs at my troubles?

I need to find him so I can kick him in the nuts.

tit for tat

He gave me a witch book. Like a magic book. A witch encyclopedia. How well does he know me? Well, I guess it doesn't take much to know that I like magic. But how well does he embrace who I am?!?!?! Very well. Obviously. Plus, he bought a guitar in the States, and he's leaving it with me.
He gave me a book and a guitar.
Know what I gave him? Gastric Flu.
And he's still here.
Go figure.
He must love me.

Moments to Come

This is it. This is my last night in Switzerland. How do I feel? I don't really know. How am I supposed to feel? I feel strange. I feel very excited about what's coming but I feel strange about this moment.



It's really hard to live in the moment. It's like the most common peice of advice but it's practically impossible. If I were to live in the moment, I wouldn't be too happy! I'm just getting over gastric flu which means I'm hungry but I'm bloated so I don't have the skinniness that usually comes with illness. I'm at an internet cafe where the chair is really uncomfortable. The things I have to be happy about are coming up. Like I'm about to have a nice goodbye with my friend here. We're going to the lake for my last view of Evian and I'm sure our talk will be girly. I'm going to have a fun last night with the family when I get home, we'll possibly play Scene It Friends Edition and I'll kick everyone's asses proving that I'm awesome even when sick. Then tomorrow is the big goodbye, I get a 9 hour plane ride, then annoying American customs, then I get to see my beloved much missed cousin and then I get to have wicked sex with EG and then go into Manhattan and see Miss Pants! So I'm happy, but not in the moment. Is that okay?

Sexual Healing

Sooooooooo I'm going home!

I'm going to make sweet sweet love to my English Gentleman!

I love him so much it's disgusting. But it's not disgusting. It's delicious!

AND! I get to see everyone at home again!!!!!! Too much joy!!!

2 Hot 2 Handle

Haha, I had a tape called 2 Hot 2 Handle and it had songs like "Bad Medicine" by Bon Jovi and "Pina Coladas" by Rupert Holmes. Oh, that's funny.

So here are some things I can't handle:

1) I went to Gruyère on Saturday. Um. Hello amazing. The castle gave me at least eleven orgasms. The Giger museum and cafe were, like, sicatatingly genius. Quite sick, because I'm pretty sure the guy's a sicko. But like artsy. And also delicious because the Alien Cafe I drank was to die for and gave me a few more orgasms. You get to dip merangues (sp), berries, and a cookie in double cream and put some of the cream in the coffee itself. I'm drooling. Then we had fondue. Shut up. I can't even talk about the fondue. Plus, it was super fun company and we were laughing constantly. We discovered Pteryducktls. Don't ask.

2) My friend once said "aww, that whomps" and I laughed really hard, because it's a funny sounding word, don't you think? So, re-reading Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, I remembered the Whomping Willow. So I came up with this phrase: "Aww, that whomps like the willow!" I don't really expect it to catch on, but I really want it to and I'm going to try my best to force it into everyone's vernacular. (Is that the right word? I know it from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang...)

3) Oh English Gentleman. My facebook status right now says that I'm banging my head against the wall, wishing I was banging it against something else. EG messages me to ask "out of interest, are you now at the stage where you would bang against anything else, or are you holding out?" I said "I'm holding out. I was going to make say '...banging a certain English Gentleman' but I thought you'd appreciate a little discretion." And I told him I wasn't even attracted to anyone else except for Ron Weasley, who, in my head, looks like a ginger EG. I wrote about other stuff, then I said "and I know I said I didn't want to know but...just out of interest, how about you?" And he said "there's been no one else X."

In case anyone needs reminding. I love him.

Homeless in March

Remember when my BF told me that he didn't want to live with me anymore and I felt homeless? That was in March.

Oh Yeah

And I just realised that I didn't even post the song I wrote after I was told I was homeless around March. Here it is:

Have you ever learned
That you're the same as everyone else
You have the same problems as everyone else
Your story's been told before?
Have you ever learned
That all of it's bound to happen to you
Boy meets girl heartache will happen to you
There's nothing you can do.

I wanted to think I was all alone
I wanted to think that my love was extrordinary
But it's ordinary baby

I'm not the only one
Who wants storybook romance
I want the "can't eat, can't sleep,
Shout it from rooftops" kind of love
I am ashamed to be so common
But I can't help but wish
For a knight in shining armour

I've always believed
That when I found someone to love
I would be his someone to love
It could be that easy.
I've always believed
Even though romance isn't real
Even though fantasies aren't real
That I could be satisfied.

I got a taste of the fantasy
I found out what it would be like if I had something more
Now I want something more.

I'm not the only one
Who wants storybook romance
I want the "can't eat can't sleep
Shout it from rooftops" kind of love
I am ashamed to be so common
But I can't help but wish
For a knight in shining armour.

Are you scared like every other boy?
You thought you were such an individual.
You have to keep one foot out the door
You're worried that you're missing something better
But baby you are
You're missing me!

I feel like I'm watching a movie
And everybody's screaming at the screen
"You want her you need her you love her"
Don't you want the Hollywood ending?
You could live happily ever after with me!

I know what's inside you
I wish you'd wake up and see it too
But I don't want pressure to pour down on you
So I can wait a while.
I know what's inside you
It wasn't hard to figure it out
Because you're the same as everyone else
You're ordinary.

I'm not the only one
Who wants storybook romance
I want the "can't eat can't sleep
shout it from rooftops" kind of love
I am ashamed to be so common
But I can't help but wish
For a knight in shining armour.


There. It's kinda cheesy, in true Mermaid fashion. But I really like it. It's a 50s doo wop song. I sang it for EG, like I said before, and tried to explain that he's my knight in shining armour without making him gag on the cheese. I think don't give him enough credit though. I think he likes cheese a little. I think he likes that I'm sicatatingly in love with him. I don't think I'll scare him away unless I accidentally mention the wedding I've been planning or the possible names of our children.

Not So Cool

I really want to cry. Most of the time these days. Living without the contact I'm needing is slowly killing me. I say slowly because I'm clearly not dead yet, but it actually feels quick.

I missed a call from EG the other night. I missed three calls, actually. But they weren't missed calls. They were calls. In my sleep, I answered and hung up because I must have thought it was my alarm going off. Want the worst part? The part that shows everyone how incredibly lame I really am? Well, in the morning, when I saw that he had called, I tried to see what time, and it only showed me the date of the day before. Which means it was before midnight. So, being an incredible fucking geek, I fell asleep right when the sun went down and thought that something earlier than 11:59pm was somewhere near 6am. I have hated myself since that morning. And he hasn't called back since.

I'm going to see him on the 26th. From the 26th, to the 11th. And Bedroom Prince has been so kind to say we can have sex in his bed. But in my current state, I'm finding it very difficult not to think of the gap between the 11th and the mystery date that is the next time we will see each other. Whether or not he will lose interest in me by then. It's actually tearing me up because my hippie side is not worried about that at all. I have 2 sides (duh). One is afraid to use the word love and afraid not to use it at the same time. The other side doesn't really know what that word means and uses it or doesn't use it at any given time. The scared side thinks I'm not pretty enough for him, that I'm punching above my weight. The hippie side is absolutely convinced he's madly in love with me and completely enchanted by everything about me.

Both sides of me are ready to see him now.

Ready to see everyone now, for that matter.

Wimbledon

Is it wrong that I liked that movie?

Is it obvious why I liked it? Absolutely. Here's why, in case it's not obvious to you. It's about a sexy English tennis player who hooks up with an American chick. Now, I'm not saying I'm American, but you can see how it's similar to my life.

They started out saying it was "just fun" keeping it "relaxed and light." EG and I never actually said those words, but in a one night stand, that's pretty much the plan anyway. Then they accidentally fell in love. Sigh. There were some pretty cool moments, too, that made me sigh-y and wistful. Like, she was really sceptical and didn't want to be in love because it was throwing off her game. But when she woke up and he wasn't there, she just felt wrong. That's EG. When I had to leave, he said his room felt wrong, and he was upset by that. "It's just my room," he said "it shouldn't feel wrong!" I loved it when he said that. I loved him. Still do. It's disgusting how much, really. Because I figured it out the other day. I love him more than I love chocolate. So that means I'm in big trouble. Because if he ever leaves me, I won't even have chocolate to console me.

What was I saying? Oh yeah, Wimbledon. Anyway, English dude is hot even though I didn't think so when I saw him in A Knight's Tale (he played Chausser) and I didn't think he'd be good at playing Dustfinger in the upcoming Inkheart, but now I do. He's a hottie. But not nehehearly as hot as my English Gentleman.

ps That "nehehearly" should be said by Dr. Cox from Scrubs.

Let It Rain

The sun is shining
The sky is blue
The moon's still up
But it's a quarter to 2
It's a lovely day
But I can't find you
So it might as well start raining.

I pick some flowers
For my hair
You're not here
To see them there
Now I look pretty
But that's not fair
So it might as well start raining.

I hold my breath
It's what I do
I close my eyes
And I think of you
I make a wish
But it can't come true
So it might as well start raining.

I look around
I walk along
I sit back down
And I write a song
It sounds alright
But it feels all wrong
So it might as well start raining.

I can make friends
With the Swiss
Side to side
We go kiss kiss kiss
But it's not love
It's friendliness
So it might as well start raining.

Rain on me
It's going on
Inside me anyway
I can't feel the sun
I can't enjoy this perfect day
I'm counting down the hours
Til you can see the flowers
In my hair
But til we're there
It might as well rain.

Human Again (Beauty and the Beast)

Just to copy Skinny Rabbit.

I've been non human I think. The amount of bittersweet misery I've been feeling has been kind of numb. Is that possible? To be numb about such an extreme feeling? I don't know. Maybe the misery made me numb. Anyway, within Switzerland, I moved. So I don't live in a faraway random alp valley, I live in a faraway random mountain town. I live on an alp. Just for a few weeks. The point is, my access to the internet and phone and therefore communication with everyone I know except my one friend here has been painfully limited. As in non-existant. I found a hella cheap internet cafe and can communicate again.

The problem is, there are stronger blocks than the mere tangible ones. I'm extremely unable to create these days. I suppose my journal entries are okay... Well, my main problem is that I can't write a song. EG has written me 2 more I think. Qu'est-ce que fuck? I've written 2 good songs in the 7 years since I've been writing songs. No, wait, 3. But I can't play one of them to him because it's on a piano. And I don't have a piano. And I sang it for him and he got upset because it was about someone else and he said I sang it with the same face as I sing songs for him. But I tried to explain that it really was about him, I just didn't know it. It was about my last when I was realising I wanted something more.

I'm not the only one
Who wants storybook romance
I want the can't eat, can't sleep,
Shout it from rooftops
Kind of love
I am ashamed to be so common
But I can't help but wish
For a knight in shining armour.

I told him he's what I wanted and I found him. But we were cooking when he said it upset him and when I tried to explain. So I'm not sure he was comforted. I fucking LOVE that he needs to be comforted. I fucking LOVE that it upset him that I sang about someone else. One time, we were talking about exes and he said "does it bother you when I talk about other girls? Because it was really bothering me when you were talking about other guys." Taken aback, I cried "why didn't you stop me?!" and he said "Because I want to know everything about you."

...what was I talking about? I'm lost in the perfection that is my English Gentleman.

He called my cell but it was Swiss Day, August 1st, and it was literally during fireworks so I missed 3 calls. I was devastated and didn't sleep at all that night. Then he called me back the following afternoon and I was so extremely excited I almost cried. I talked so fast and with such gusto that I'm sure he fell in love with me again. Then I felt amazing and found myself impervious to the rain. I realised I was a little bit dead for a week and I felt alive again. The death slowly returns, then I get a message from him, and I wake up anew. So it goes.

Hallows not Horcruxes

Um...best book ever. Best. There has never been a better book ever. So, the hype is absolutely deserved. In fact, I don't know if there was even enough hype. I have never read anything better than this. Am I making myself clear?

Antici...PATION

I think I've already used this title and the one before it, but they're absolutely necessary. Have I ever mentioned that I HATE SUSPENSE? I feel like I'm going to cry. My best friend and I, when we were kids, used to not be able to sleep on Christmas Eve. Just knowing that Santa was out there! Knowing that tomorrow everyone would be so happy opening their presents! Big family brunch! How could you possibly get any rest???

So tonight, just EIGHT hours away from opening Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, the book I've been waiting for for 2 years, but really about 6 years, how does anyone expect me to sleep? It's impossible! I'm wide awake! That's why they put it out at midnight in MOST places, because no kid, or grown up for that matter, could sleep knowing it would be out the next day.

Two whole years of wondering where all the Horcruxes are. Two whole years of waiting for proof that Snape is good. SIX WHOLE YEARS of imagining the scene where Ron and Hermione express their undying love for each other.

You'd think, if I waited that long, I could wait another seven hours and forty five minutes...

Well, technically, I can wait, but what do I do til then??? Blog? Read erotic stories? Stalk people on facebook? Watch About A Boy a couple times? Write to EG three times? check, check, check, check, and check. NOW WHAT?

Fever

I honestly think I might have a heart attack or something before Harry Potter 7 comes out. It actually hurts not to have it. I accidentally read a really unreliable spoiler page. Well, I just read the first line. But it was enough to give me a heart attack. I don't believe it. It can't be true.

I need to read this book.

Stripped of My Creative Juices

Now I can't even blog properly because I just like lyrics that are already written. Here's "Despair in the Departure Lounge" by the Arctic Monkeys:

He's pining for her
In a people carrier
There might be buildings and pretty things to see like that
But architecture won't do
Although it might say a lot about the city or town
I don't care what they've got keep on turning them down
It don't say the funny things she does
Don't even try and cheer him up, because
It just won't happen

He's got the feeling again
This time on the aeroplane
There might be tellys in the back of the seats in front
But Rodney and Del won't do
Although it might take your mind off the aches and the pains
Laugh when he falls through the bar
But you're feeling the same
'Cause she isn't there to hold your hand
She won't be waiting for you when you land

It feels like she's just nowhere near
You could well be out on your ear
This thought comes closely followed by the fear
And the thought of it
Makes you feel a bit
Ill

Yesterday I saw a girl
Who looked like someone you might knock about with
And almost shouted
And then reality kicked in within us
It seems as we become the winners
You lose a bit of summat
And half wonder if you won it at all

And don't say 'owt 'cause you've got no idea
And she's still nowhere near
And the thought comes closely followed by the fear
And the thought of it
Makes you feel a bit...
Ill

Despair in the departure lounge
It's one and they'll still be around at three
No signal and low battery
What's happened to me

EG played that for me a lot when I was there. I fucking love him.

In My Head/Merry Melodies

Here's what's in my head right now:

EG, hot EG, gorgeous EG, funny EG, Ron and Hermione, Horcruxes, EG, EG, EG, love, love, love, holding hands, kebab, sexy EG, Toronto, showing lovely EG around Toronto, taking EG to Wonderland, Ron and Hermione, just seven more days, then 36 days after that til I see wonderful EG, parties with all my friends, Harry and Ginny, Voldemort, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs, hot hot hot EG, Fred and George, Dumbledore, EG, England, Manchester United, EG at my house, EG in my bed, I don't have a bed, EG and me under a tree.

Isn't that facinating?

* * * * *

I'm trying to write a song. I'm not succeeding. Well, technically, I've written part of a song but it's not very good. It's okay...I dunno. I need the other Mermaid to help me out.

EG suggested some songs. And by "some" I mean all of his favourite songs. I like "Chasing Cars" by Snow Patrol a lot. I also like the Arctic Monkeys and the look on EG's face when he sings "Cigarette Smoke"--it makes me rocking yet in no time! The problem is, with all these incredibly apt songs, I can't write my own anymore! They've found better words and melodies to express how I feel! That's why I'm an actress. I can never find the right words, but other people can who can't say them. I can say them. And I do. Or will the next time I get the chance.

In the meantime, I just wish I could write EG a perfect song and cook him a perfect meal and that way I'll get to his heart through his ears and his stomach. I think I already made it to his heart...aww.

young love

my 16 yr old cousin, who up until 5 minutes ago, I could have sworn was around 13, is totally in love. like so much so that his facebook status, indeed, his entire facebook page, is all about how much he is in love. he loves his "shawna" and will forever and cannot get enough of her and wants to be with her all the time.

ain't it great?

Stupefy!

Just got back from seeing Harry Potter 5 at the cinéma in Lausanne. I was sitting in the front row with my arms crossed, shaking my head at the screen and sometimes mumbling "no" and "that's not right" and "what?"

Nevermind, I'm completely distracted by my Gentleman. He's so dirty and sweet at the same time. How is that possible?

Did I already mention one of my favourite parts of the week with him? I think I have to because it is one of my favourite parts of the week. On my last night, after a hellofalot of sex, I fell asleep and it was only 1am...sleeping is giving in...and he was watching me and then he woke me with a kiss. "You fell asleep," he said "and I got scared and had to wake you up." Is that not the sweetest thing in the world? "I thought, 'this is it, this is the last time I'm going to see her sleep' and I didn't want it to be over." I almost cried.

But seriously about Harry Potter. I saw the whole freaking book done perfectly in my head and they fucked it up royally! Who let them get away with it?!

Not at All

The title of this post is two-fold:
1) people keep asking me how I am. Well, "not at all well" is my real answer. I'm lonely, cold, bored, frustrated, tired, stressed, guilty, worried, gaining weight again, having bad dreams, and my head almost always hurts. And I believe this snippet of song applies:
-Lefou, I'm afraid I've been thinking.
-A dangerous passtime.
-I know!

2) If you ask EG if he minds something, for example, "do you mind if I open the window?" and his answer is "not at all," it is the cutest thing in the world. It makes me giggle as he sounds like a Beetle. Hee hee. Try to hear it in your head. Or, better yet, if you know an Englishman, ask him to say it for you. It's absolutely adorable.

But number 2 can relate to number 1 because it just increases my loneliness.

On the plus side, I'm going to see the Harry Potter movie tonight which is kind of exciting, but not nearly as exciting as the fact that next saturday, I will be reading the seventh book. I will actually have the pages in my hands and the content in my head. The thought is so huge that I might throw up.

TO to NYC!

Okay, he's fine in New York and wants to come see me when I get home! I'm hoping to do a road trip to go get him around the end of August. Anyone wanna come??? ...anyone have a car?

In the Dark

I haven't heard from EG since he called me the night I left him.

I don't even know if he made it to New York okay! Where is he? How is he? How is there no internet where he is?! His phone is off! I have no way of contacting him! Why? When will I hear from him again? I need my fix!

Ain't Misbehaving

I've been reading a lot of Romeo and Juliet. I really like love stories. I like love stories that work out. Happy endings. No endings.
I want to act again. I want to play a character who falls in love. I'd be so convincing.
I want to wake up with EG again.
I want to have my own place and have him live down the street and then come over for dinner. Well, first dinner, anyway. I can't feed him all the time, he eats like a ...maniac.
When I go home, he's going to come visit me.
I keep imagining it and it's one of my best fantasies.

Saturday night. I have nothing to do. I have no money. I have no friends. I have no lovah. I have my guitar and my journal and...considering my circumstances, I'm okay with that.

No one to talk with all by myself
No one to walk with but I'm happy on the shelf
Ain't misbehaving, I'm saving my love for you...

My Mind Is On The Blink

I need you to make me laugh.

I need you to play guitar.

I need you to hold my hand.

I need you drinking at the bar.

I need you to pinch my cheeks.

I need you to slap my bum.

I need you to kiss my eyes.

I need you to make me come.

I need you to cook for me.

I need you to call me hot.

I need you to touch my hair.

I need you here. You are not.


"Show me how you do that trick! The one that makes me scream," she said, "the one that makes me laugh," she said, and threw her arms around my neck. "Show me how you do it and I promise you, I promise that I'll run away with you."

Rain In My Shoes

The farther away I got, the more it hurt. It literally felt like something was being ripped out of me.

Definitely the most amazing week. That doesn't describe it. I over-emphasise everything, I know. I shouldn't have done that because now I can't explain this. I can't explain the pure joy I experienced all week and the incredible agony I'm feeling now. I'll try to be clear and not...well, myself. It'll have to be in point form.

- He took me to see The Lord of the Rings in London. On Drury Lane. We ate at Porters. We drank wine. We were mesmoriesed by magic. I can't tell you everything. I just can't, you had to be there. But...I'm kinda glad you weren't. I'll do other stuff with you. You understand, I'm sure.

- He played songs for me. Songs he wrote. I gave you one line. I want to give you all of them. I think it's better that some things are kept to ourselves. Though, if you want to have a sleepover with me, I'm sure I'll tell you every single detail. Let's just say the songs are orgasmic.

- Speaking of orgasms. BEST. SEX. EVER. So, so amazing. Three times a day. Quality and quantitiy. I was constantly horny (as was he) and I was completely satisfied. If in pain. Sitting is difficult.

- Haha, he eats 5 meals a day. Not 5 small meals, no, 5 real meals a day with gigantic portions of meat. He is a big strong football man. I feel petite in his arms. He said I was "only tiny."

- He is so hot. I don't know if I mentioned that. But...so so hot. I can't get over it. I would just glance his way and get wet. So hot. And there's this song by the Arctic Monkeys that he sings that is just...sex in music form. Goddammit he's sexy.

- Sweetest boy ever. Being held by him is ...better than anything. Anything. I could give up peanut butter and I think even chocolate if that somehow allowed me to be held by him more.

I don't know what I'm going to do until I next see him. Probably die.

ps okay, here's another line. "There's rain in my shoes cause I'm better off out, I've been walking for miles trying to figure you out. Yet I know what I need to, I just wanna see you again."

Happiness is...

Being in England.
Having my face touched.
Being listened to.
Being sung to.
Being teased.
Being tickled.
Staring into sparkling blue eyes.
Brushing lips lightly.
Kissing hands.
Heavy breathing.
Resting on a lap.
Being told I'm a "wonderful lady."
Being told my smile is "glorious."
Smiling all the time.


Listening to a song for me.

Happiness is:

"maybe love and music will help bridge our divide."

Sighing in Anticipation

This just in, EG hasn't slept with anyone else. Because he hasn't wanted to! Sigh.

In just 46 hours, I'll be in his bed. And he'll be in me.

I'm going to surprise him when I get there. I told him I'll be at the station at 9:30, but really, I'll be there an hour before that and then I'll cab it to his house, strip and slip under the covers with him. Then I will spend the next 6 days in heaven.

ps thanks for the advice on the L word. Girls are crazy, aren't they? But we only get scared because we know boys are crazy too.

And That's The Word

I'm really into English Gentleman. Did you know that?

I think I would do anything he asked me. Is that bad? I mean, I don't think he'd ask me anything horrible like to kill someone or give up theatre. I'd do anything he would ask me. Is that bad?

I'm thinking about the word. That "love" word. It's weird, eh? How is it so powerful? Part of me needs it, needs to feel it, to say it, to hear it all the time. Part of me thinks it's just a word. And using it or not using it can't possibly have a big impact on any part of life. He knows I feel strongly about him. He knows I can't stop thinking about him. He knows I wouldn't deny him anything. Will he think differently if I throw the word "love" into the mix? I mean, it's the only word I know to express what I feel for him. After he says something particularly hot or cute or funny, saying "I love you" just follows naturally in my head.

I hate the word. But I love the word. I want to say it. I have a scene in my head of almost saying it a couple times, and he'll say "say it!" I don't know if I will or not. I really want to. But I also don't care. But I also really want to.

Should I?

Giggles McGee

Guys, I'm dying here. I can't get enough of this. It's killing me. How is that possible? I guess if I can never get enough of something I think I need, I'd die. So that's how something so good can kill me.

I don't know what to do! He has never been in my bed before, but it feels so empty. He just doesn't stop saying amazing things. He doesn't stop being funny and cute and smart and perfect. I don't know what to do with myself.

I already blogged this, I know, so it's old news. But I can't think of anything else! I've been calculating, and in about a hundred and seventy hours, I will see him and then we'll be together for a hundred and sexty hours. Oh, a hundred and sixty. That was a genuine typo. He has football training on one of the nights though. So I can dish with Frenchie, except that she will be on her last week with her lovah. They are so cute. EG and I are obsessed with them. I'm much more sad for her than myself because she's going home after spending 9 months with him. But...he's going to visit her for all of August. EG is going to the states all summer.

I have fantasies about going home in September (a distinct possibility) and getting to visit with EG a couple of weekends, if he's in a northern state. Then asking him to come and stay with me for a week or two (or forever) before he goes back. There will probably be a party at the Neenia/Bedroom Prince/Skinny Rabbit pad (best house ever!) where he can meet all my friends. How will that go? My friends would all be swooning, I'm sure. We would need a bed though, that isn't in my mother's house... Because we work well in a bed. Not that we only work well in a bed. Like he said, he doesn't just like sleeping with me, he likes waking up with me. I feel so lucky that he likes waking up with me. I don't really blame him, I'm really fun to wake up with.

I'm nervous about the discussion we are going to have to have. The inevitable "what's going to happen now?" discussion. Because I'm going to have to say: "Okay, you're going to the states all summer. It's a fun summer trip to a place you've never been where you will be viewed as someone with superpowers just because of your accent, let alone the rest of your charming self. So do whatever you want and don't tell me anything." And I don't know what he's going to say.

OH! I just remembered. When I left him last time, he was waiting for the train to leave and I was sitting on the train writing in my journal. I knew he'd want to know what I wrote. He just asked me last night and I told him, though it was highly cheesy: "Oh EG, how I'll miss you. If I could write a song for you, I'd sing it every morning and always make everything okay. I dream of a world where we make sense. One where you don't need to roam, where I don't need my home. Where it rains when it's warm and we could kiss under street lamps every night. Where you stay awake as long as I need you to. Where I'm myself all the time and your people are my people. Where we can eat together and talk in interesting ways..."
And after I read him that, he said "All that stuff you mentioned, you're dangerously close to getting it."

Motherfucker, he's hot! He's so cute. I can't handle the cuteness and the hilarity that ensues when we talk. We just laugh so much! He has such a cute laugh! And when he gets started telling a funny story, he can't finish it because he's laughing too hard.

He had told me before that he's worried my excitement and passion for him will wane and he has every reason to believe that his will not. I asked him what the reasons were and he said he'd tell me when I got there. But I couldn't wait so I asked him again. He said one reason is that he's met a lot of people and none of them are like me. I don't know what that means, really, because none of them can possibly be like each other, right? But it's a big compliment and I took it with giggles. He's just worried my giggles will go away eventually and that will make us less magical (his words). I said, I don't know if I'll be giggling tomorrow. But I'm a giggly person. And he makes me feel other things too...I don't know how to comfort him. I can't say I'll be giggling forever. Chances are, if we get comfortable together, I'll be, well, comfortable. But it really does seem like he's going to win me over every day and that I will be giggling forever.

A hundred and sixty nine hours to go...

Not My Pictures

Weird. Looking at pictures of a wedding.

She was my friend. A good friend. We worked so well together.

He was someone I was obsessed with for three years. He kissed me. I kissed him first. We held hands. He was so funny. He made me laugh all the time.

We didn't believe in the same things so he had to stop kissing me. I was heartbroken and angry. I felt guilty because I wanted to corrupt him.

He found someone else who happened to believe the same things he did. That didn't work out.

He got back together with my friend. I don't think she wanted to be my friend anymore. She wanted to, but couldn't handle the sight of me.

I thought they had a passionless relationship. Just because they were avoiding sex, doesn't mean they were passionless.

It was in them all along. It was being saved for each other.

The pictures prove it. The way he held her, the way he kissed her.

I'm fine with it because he does nothing for me now. The pictures of him prove it. They make my past self twitch a little, but that's all.

But I can't help but think that it could have been me. I don't want it to be me, but it could have been me.

I thought he was scared of sex. I was wrong.

I hate being wrong.

(ps, he is really short. Nowhere near 6'5".)

Breaking My Balls

You're breaking my balls, you guys, you're breaking my balls. This'll be like my seventeenth post before you've all updated at all! This is ridonculous.

Just to fill you in on what's been going on since my most recent recent post, um, I'm obsessed with English Gentleman. He wrote me this message that I'm not sure I want to put on here. I just don't want to cheapen it. I read it to Neenia over the phone because I figured telling one person was different than broadcasting it over the internet. But I really want to broadcast it all over the internet. And I know you will all appreciate it (and by "you all" I mean Neenia (duh), Bedroom Prince, Arts Monkey, Miss Pants, Skinny Rabbit, Nosiren and a couple other hangers on who don't have blogs but know me well, you know who you are)... Should I? Just to give you a tiny hint of this amazing person (if I haven't already)...I will give you a taste.

I wanted to call him instead of talk via facebook, but I couldn't find the phone. So I said: "Oh, now I'll have to be content with fantasising about what we're gonna do when I get there. What are we gonna do when I get there?" And his reply described really hot teasing and foreplay(including "...and you will abandon your dress to the elements outside of my window, along with your underwear, declaring to all of Hampshire that you will never need it again..."). And then he described hot sex and said:

"At this point the curtains go down and the stars of the show are only seen again at local convenience stores, buying food and drink to fuel their filthy adventures. Even as they become dishevelled starry eyed wrecks over time that no one cares to measure, all that see them feel their disdain tainted by the jealously that they are having more sex than minds of the past thought feasible, let alone healthy, and the wails of ecstacy echo across crisp, enchanted sunsets onto dawns afar, where couples everywhere wonder if one day, they too, can emulate the pleasures derived from the mispent youths of Princesse Alathariel and English Gentleman."

What?! What?! (direct quote from my reaction, and Neenia's.) How is he so amazing? I don't even know how to describe him! The best word that encompasses all the awesomeness and hotness and sweetness that he is is his name.

Last night there was a slight misunderstanding. I said "isn't it funny that we've only spent three nights together? Not like 'well, we see each other at work all the time but we've only spent three nights together.' no, just we've only spent three nights together ever!" And he said "I don't find it weird. It's spectacular." To which I didn't really have a reply. Then I went to bed and he texted me thinking I was unsure about us and thinking about my ex. "For a creative mind like yours, it's natural to have doubts." But I don't have doubts! How was I to claire-ify? I texted him trying to explain and he seemed cool, but I didn't feel I was convincing him enough. I sent him a loooooong rant-y message on facebook which ended with something endearing about my journal getting sick of his name but she's too polite to say anything. I just got a reply:

"Are you a dream? I hope not. X"

Unhelpful

My poor ex boy. I feel awful for him. He said I haven't wanted to make out with him in a long time. Can I confess why?

I think I...didn't like his kisses. We didn't kiss well together. The pressure was never right, his fake teeth (if you don't know the story here, just ask) really hurt me, our heads just...didn't connect like they were supposed to! I loved him so I ignored all that. But I couldn't make out with him. How could I tell him that? How can this be explained?

I just wish him peace. But I can't give it to him.

Water Water Everywhere

I'm so thirsty but I've been drinking so much! what's the dealio, yo?

This is not a metaphor, I'm really thristy and water doesn't help.

My ticket is booked for England! I'm going so soon. EG said "You're coming to England, how exciting! 'Tis where you belong miss, and you know it."

He calls me "miss" he's so cute. He'll probably quench my thirst...

Haven't Forgotten

Don't think I forgot about the other boy.


I just called him. It made me so sad. It made him so sad. It made us both very angry and upset and sad. I'd like to get out of the business of breaking peoples' hearts.


He said it wasn't all his fault. I said I never said t was (did I?). He said I was using him as a crutch in my fucked up mess of a life and I needed to learn to stand on my own and when I did that, I threw him out. That's not true. I distinctly remember trying very hard not to use him as a crutch. I remember trying to live my own life so the pressure wasn't on him. I can't think about this anymore. It's getting ridiculous.

I said we might still get back together. He said I was the kind of person to meet someone, call it "fate" and get married and that's why we probably won't get back together. That's not fair, is it? I was really insulted by that. If I'm like that, then why didn't I stay with him?? If I'm like that, why was he even bothering with someone of whom he clearly has such a low opinion?

My head hurts where the throbbing resides. My brain hurts where the confusion settles. My eyes hurt where the love comes out. My ears hurt where his sobs penetrated. My gut hurts where the punch landed. My nose hurts where the pressure reigns. My heart hurts where the dagger went in.

Until I saw him, I've been wishing I had just a shirt of his in my room so I could smell him. Well I have one now and it brings me nothing but sorrow.

And I feel all the more guilty because underneath all this, I still feel the warmth and fireworks and butterflies and sighs of my new boy.

Bedroom Prince's Million Dollars

After reading the Prince's most recent post, I needed to write my own.

Maybe it's because I don't want to get into a grad school that our views vary. But I think my life would change rather drastically if I won the lottery.

I was given cash yesterday, some with which to buy the kids lunch and train tickets, the rest was for me and they'd just deduct that from my pay this week. Perfect! First of all, I needed to take the train that night and second, I needed girl products. Rather badly. So I bought myself some necessary things from the pharmacy, bought some lunch for the kiddies, jumped on the train with them. I realised I had forgotten diapers for the baby, so I bought a mini pack when we got off the train. Then, we saw a carousel. A very beautiful, very old carousel. Well, I couldn't not let them ride the carousel. Then I had to buy phone credit so I could call the mommy to let her know where we were (and to text EG, obviously). Then, when the mommy came and I was to go on to my next destination, I realised I had to take the train twice. I only had enough for one trip. So, standing at the little mechanical thing where you buy train tickets, I tried to figure out how best to cheat the system without getting caught. I was told that if you get caught on the train I was about to take, you'd get fined something like 800 franks. But if you get caught on the one home, it's only like a hundred. So I made my ticket come from a station closer to home and made the destination one before. They did not check tickets on my first trip. There, that money could have gone to my homeward ticket and saved me a hell of a lot of trouble. Why don't they just check every time or never! It's evil what they do! On the way back, I saw they were checking right away. And I did not have a ticket from where I got on. So I jumped up to go to the bathroom and planned to get off at the next stop (which was soon) and catch the next train (which was an hour away). They were waiting for me when I got out of the bathroom. "Bon soir" said I sleepily and tried to get off the train. After much embarrassment and pretending to be stupid on my part, they let me off saying "vous avez du chance ce soir." I guess you could call it that. So what was I going to do when I caught the next train? What if they checked right away too? I came up with a story that someone I was supposed to be meeting said they would drive me to a station and I had bought the ticket ahead of time (which could be proven by the ticket I did buy ahead of time) and then they said they couldn't drive me that far and I was too shy to ask for more money. After an hour of worry punctuated with reading Oscar Wilde short stories, I got on the train. They did not check at all.

That whole night could have been a hell of a lot better and much more productive if I had a million dollars.

You know what makes it worse? Things like that happen to me at least twice, usually more, a week.