Pinky LaFemme

I have to tell you, for a while there I was certain all the forces of evil were working against me. But things are now looking up, mes petits choux. My ducks are forming a row, I no longer feel the need to turn to drugs/Jerry Maguire/prostitution/primal scream therapy for help getting through the day, and somewhere in the distance instead of "Road to Nowhere" I can hear, ever so slightly, The Talking Heads' "Stay Up Late."

The only potential cloud in my I-Can-See-Clearly-Now-The-Rain-Is-Gone sky?

I couldn't sleep last night. I tried and tried. I counted sheep, I counted monkeys, I counted the number of people whose bare feet I've seen, but, alas (enter abnormality), one thing and one thing only kept popping into my head and making me giggle like An Insomniac On Crack, the phrase "There are no strangers...Only friends we haven't met." What the hell??? (allthough I suppose it ís better than that time I couldn't sleep because Donna and David from Beverly Hills, 90210 were having sex in my head.)

It might possibly, probably, definitely be the dread of failing my (last!) exam on friday... I mean, really, who knew European law is not quite as easypeasy as I had envisaged it to be (truly, it makes me want to cry and bake poison cookies to feed on after locking myself in my non-existent attic.)

It's all good though, because there's allways my plan B: Selling flowers out of a van on the side of the highway. For like...money...or beads...for like making earrings...

The choice is yours, Daniel-san

I found one of my old diaries and I have decided to share: (unfortunately, I can't post a picture of this particular entry , as it was written in French and well, that would just be mean. Although it ís a shame you won't see the sparkly pink ink and the use of exlamation mark smiley faces)

"...Hannes actually spoke to me - directly to me - today. For the first time (at lunch!). His friend David kept tapping me on the shoulder (They were sitting behing me & Ann!) So I turned around and looked right into Hannes' Big Brown Eyes (The biggest!!) and he goes "Do you have a quarter?" and then I said "A what?" and he said "A quarter." And of course he picked a day when I didn't, so I said "No" And then he kept asking everyone, but I was so happy after that. I only wish I had a quarter to give him, then he'd have to pay me back so he'd have to talk to me again!..."

I love the detailed transcription of the conversation and especially my twelve year old reasoning. I was convinced having a quarter would have changed my life because he would have "had" to pay me back and then he would have "had" to talk to me again.
And thus declare his undying love.
And ask me to go steady.
And have hot unprotected sex with me in his Mazda Miata. (well, maybe not quite yet...)

Sigh. I'm going to try this tactic out on my mechanic and/or mailman tomorrow.

So, if you see a crazy woman running down the street chasing a man in uniform/overalls yelling “I know you NEED a quarter and I have one, I have a quarter for you! TAKE MY QUARTER!”
It’s just me.
Do not be afraid.

Anyway, back to my OhI'mjustpeelingpotatoeslalalaheywaitisthat?ohmygodthepotatoes!they'reALIVEandscreamingandPISSED-dream now.
Go forth and be brave, pound puppies.

Tinkerbell on a really serious bender

Allow me to tell you something, mes petits legumes,

Life is currently not the bowl of peanut butter cups it promised to be, I woke up this morning and realized my dear, dear Common Sense had packed its bags and left for greener pastures.

Was it perhaps something I did? Something I said?

Oh please come back, Common Sense, since you took away my ability to tell a good idea from a bad idea to the sunny island of Hahaheeheehoohoo, I am unable to function like a normal human being. I have already made several grave errors involving phone calls and things better left unsaid, not to mention baking cookies when you haven't slept in eleven billion days other than a few minutes. (For Jesus will pick just thát time to strike you down with extreme fatigue and you will pass out and wake up an hour and a half after putting the cookies in the oven to a whole lot of smoke and no cookies.)


I know what you are thinking, and well, I'm thinking it too.
Did that crazy girl just blame Jesus for a kitchen fire and burnt cookies?
Did she mean Jesus our savior or Hey-Zeus her gardener?
Well, as of yet I don't have a gardener (or a garden for that matter). But if I did his name would be Jesus. And he would lovingly tend to my garden everyday I'm sure.


And now here I am, left to dispose of the evidence of what was once mistaken to be a good idea, but which I’m pretty sure is commonly considered as being a pretty bad idea.

I really, really wanted those cookies, can you tell?

Adventures in squirrel taming

I have the kind of brain fog that comes from catching up on night-sleep during the day,( maybe kinda like Joe, from Joe & the Volcano), there is no study or any kind of exam preparation when the brain is fogged over.

The brain fog also means I can't handle anything too complex or long and my fragile mental health means I shouldn't read anything that could upset me. So, no sociology of culture today, for it is both too complex and upsetting for me to handle.

Other than that I have about fifty-six million, one hundred and eighty-two thousand things I need to be doing. Things I could be doing. Things I should be doing. Things like sleeping or eating or saving the world or ...
Well, anything really, but as I said before, the brain fog has completely taken over (that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it)

So, instead I've been doing what I don't need to be doing and shouldn't be doing, but am doing anyway because when I kill time, I kill it dead.



Also, I know my archives are in Spanish (or possibly Italian, or maybe even Portuguese), I have no idea how that happened.
Computers are complicated.

The IQ of a satsuma

Hmmm...'oral exam'...it does sound kinda dirrrty doesn't it?

So. I need a DISTRACTION. Yeah. It’s that serious.

A distraction that involves time travel is totally okay. In case you know a guy who knows a guy who can hook me up. And I don’t mean time travel as code for crack. Really. Well, I haven’t completely ruled out a drug addiction, because what could be more distracting than that.

Attaching bunny ears to my cats' head and making her pose for pictures, you say? Well, I'm not quite at that stage of the disease yet, thanks for asking. Maybe next year.

I'm thinking of painting my nails Vixen Red to see if there is any truth to the Amish tale that red nail polish equals sex. Yeah, I know what you are thinking (and I know what you've been doing. Just because you can't see me doesn't mean I can't see you. Everyday my super hero powers get a little bit stronger. It helps that I'm wearing my Wonder Woman underwear, vuile bieste!).

Yes,I did try sleeping for a while, but the caffeine is working against me on that.

Balderdash & piffle

I really, really have a thing for guys who tie their hair back into a bun. I used to prefer curly hair, but now I'm a bun-girl all the way....

Anyway, today has been an important day in the life of me.
Monumental even.
You see, today I had an epiphany.

I realized that we easily waste 25% of our life waiting in a line of some sort. Actually,it’s not just waiting in line, it’s waiting in general. We waste a big chunk of our lives just simply waiting. You wait in traffic, you wait in the drive thru line at McDonalds, you wait at the post office,you wait at the grocery store,you wait for waiters at restaurants… dammit, everywhere you go you have to wait.

Even today, I had an appointment to take an oral exam at 2 pm., unfortunately so had 13 other people and so today I realised you can cut in line with impunity.

I think it's up to their horde mentality, but people rarely do or say anything. Belgians in particular, they're allways so...composed...

And you know what? There are few things more satisfying than breezing past throngs of impatient people, feeling their murderous gaze of jealousy as you nonchalantly and unapologetically cut in front of them.

I say, more power to the jerks that like to cut in line. They're not assholes, they're freakin’ geniuses.

I got soul but I'm not a soldier

I just pulled an all-nighter and it is quite possible that I have more coffee than blood running through my veins right now.

I had my second exam today, for which I was totally not prepared...as usual...
Only, this time I got so stressed I actually broke out in hives.
So not attractive.

At least I think they were hives ( it might be the caffeine-overdose...)

Anyway, whatever it was, it made me look all patchy from the neck down, so there was no showing off my cleavage for a passing grade this time. (Do not worry, I am not a whore, I allways use the amahzing power of my breastices responsibly)

It's a good thing I can allways rely on my extraordinary bullshitting skills in situations like these. Yay me!

Harmonica sunbeam

You know, I think I passed my exam, I really think I might have...

So that's only five more to go, that's 18 more days...We'll see how I do.

I am a lot less stressed though, I spent about 2 hours in a traffic jam this morning, so I got a change to get a lot of my frustrations go.

Some might call it road rage, I call it somewhat of a therapy session.
I especially enjoy excessive honking, yelling, cursing (a lót) and making rude gestures at old geriatrics that no longer have the reflexes or basic mobility to drive.
It's so... cleansing.

Allez les blues!

I have honestly tried to update every day and you have to admit I managed to be pretty good about it the first week...and yes, that ís a new record for me...

Anyway, the main reason though is not because I am supremely lahazey about things like this, it's because I honestly have nothing to tell you.

I have begun studying, you see. ('t was about time too, my first exam is tomorrow, I know, this procrastinating of mine is getting ridiculous)
So there, now you know.

I'm seriously considering joining the 'procrastination fighting community' (there is indeed such a thing). And very well organized too, I must say. You can post about your daily progress, find friends to fight against procrastination together and support each other. Aww, doesn't that sounds nice...

I also read that some people’s procrastination may be linked to depression.
I had no idea I may be depressed.
So I started thinking about whether I was depressed.
This lead me to the conclusion that I may, in fact, be suffering some mild depression.
This realization has made me so depressed that I am cannot seem to get any more studying done.

It's a vicious cycle for sure.

Snugly tumkins

I get unnerved by street musicians and I hate sentence fragments.
Just so you know.


So. I have decided to obey my voices. Sort of like Obeying My Thirst, only with less thirst and more voices screaming.

"Buy Colgate Whitestrips, buy Colgate Whitestrips! So what if they cause you to digest your own stomach lining, at least you will have the whitest teeth ever and it won't matter that you put regular dish soap in the dishwasher instead of dishwasher detergent and flooded your kitchen with bubbles or that your toaster burst into flames when you were trying to make english muffin pizzas in it because the whiteness of your teeth will blind everyone to everything but your good qualities, which let's be frank, consist of your ASS, your keen fashion sense when it comes to socks, oh and your ASS."

Well, you know how it is. Hopefully the intestinal organ failure warning on the box is just a precaution and hopefully I don't end up vomiting my own blood, because that would probably stain my teeth and gee, I'd really hate to have to do it twice...

Huzzah!

I hate public transportation.
I do, I do, I do.

I don't mind paying, since using it four times a day, everyday is still cheaper than gas and insurance and I don't even mind the length of time I end up on the bus/train/subway because it gives me a chance to catch up on my reading.
However, I do (ever so intensely) hate the people.

First thing I get confronted with, each and every morning is those dumbfucks on the platform who either stand directly in front of the door and thereby blocking those trying to get off or the fuckwits who will try to push their way ON to the train as soon as the door opens, meanwhile there’s a ton of people trying to get off.

And then there’s the idiots who get on the train when there are few seats left and block your way while they select the “perfect” seat? This process of seat selection is usually carried out in a careful and excruciatingly slow manner, so as to let each and every passenger entering from the other direction take the seats you could have gotten to. And at the other end of this spectrum, we find the seat grubbers, the kind of people who will purposely run you over to get to that recently vacated seat halfway down the train car.

But let’s not forget the pole-spooners. You know who I’m talking about – the people who will, on a very crowded train, wrap one of their arms around one of those floor-to-ceiling poles and lean the rest of their body against it while everyone else has to scramble to stand upright when the train moves. Seriously, it is not only incredibly annoying, it is also pretty disgusting. I mean, do you really want to spoon with something as filthily diseased as a subway pole?

Creepy people who sit next to you even though the train or bus is empty.

The people who seem to think it is so vitally important that they listen to the latest accordion-R&B-funk-metal fusion band at 8 o’clock on a Monday morning, on full volume. That is some serious selfish, self-obsessed, whining, selfish, self-centred, fucking self-regarding, self-absorbed, selfish, fucking cuntery.

And the spreaders, the kind of men (and I use that term loosely here) who sit next to you on the train and open their legs so wide that they invade your own leg space. As far as I am concerned, they are just one step away from my personal favourite, the train-gropers. You know who they are. They live for packed trains, when they can "mistakenly" rub against you.

Oh, and the old people. D’you think maybe we could do anything about them? 'Cause I just don’t know…

The devil incarnate

Yeeeeessss...I know I'm not a people person.
So what?

So okay. I’m a dreamer. I won’t argue that by any stretch, reality comes by and either nods or throws me to the curb.

So I dream...crazy dreams, little dreams, good dreams and shitty dreams.

It’s my cycle, it’s what i do.