The not-to-do list

There are so many things I shouldn't be doing. Ever. Sometimes ever again.

Adam Sandler's movies. MISTAKE. Every. Single. Time. Why would you even... Oh my god.

Baking. You have a gas oven. It has two functions: burn'em, and BURN'EM LIKE MOUNT DOOM.

Blind dating. Weird, weird things can happen.

Cats. (Too late, sis.) He is here to haunt&irritate you until the end of your days. And when you finally slip in the shower and hit your head and die, he will eat your face and possibly some other body parts, and your landlady will find your devoured corpse weeks later and it will take months until they identify you. And the cat still has no guilt feelings. He also thinks you were 'tasteless'.

Huge earrings when it's windy. Your ears just want to fly away and become dragons.

Lip syncing Celine Dion. Horrible.

Despair. Useless. We're all born to die anyway. The only person ever who managed to make desperation cool, was Oscar Wilde. You are not him.

Elaborating. Mostly, nobody really means it when they say "please, do elaborate."

Fall in love: See the explanation for "Adam Sandler's movies".

Jägermeister. See the explanation for "Blind dating".

Monte D'Ouro. The worst, most disgusting wine this planet has to offer. It's like pickled water that has been mixed with sugar and cow saliva. Shivers.

Plants. Would you like to be tortured for months, with minimum amount of water and oxygen, and be bitten by the cat, sitting in that moldy, ugly pot - until your "caretaker" finally goes off for the weekend and forgets you and lets you die a very painful death? Yeah. Think about that. You wouldn't like that.

Promise to do something on a Sunday. When you finally crawl out bed in the afternoon and manage to make yourself presentable, it will already be Tuesday.

Dance like you just don't care. Do not "shake that ass." Do not "raise the roof." Do not "jump around."

Shots. Falsely, this seems like a magnificent idea while you're doing it. However, do not proceed. First it will most likely make you "dance like you don't care" and the next morning you are all about "despair."

Snooze. It's a lie, I tell you, A CRUEL LIE!

Update your iTunes. It's like an over-attached boyfriend that will insist you go take a yoga class or something ridiculous like that. So after half a million times they "subtly suggest", you get sick of it and go ahead and do it. Then you come home, and you're in pain, and you don't know where your body parts are right now. And OH MY GOD it hurts, I don't even know what's happening, why did I ever do such a stupid thing kill me now.

Strapless bras. They're like a corset, but a way more cruel version. First, they will make you suffocate. Second, they just want to be a belt. Let them be a belt. Set them free.

Shrimps. I mean look at them. Just look at them. They resemble a malformed alien fetus at their very best. The consistency is much the same. The fact that they don't really taste like anything doesn't help.

Add colleagues to Facebook. Suddenly, they start giving you weird glances in the hallway.

High heels in Lisbon. Embarrassing.

Math. Not even once.

Smart books. You know, the deep, overrated classics that every respectable, pretentious douchebag has read. Like, there is a sentence in James Joyce's Ulysses that goes like this: "The squeak is out. A split is gone for the flatties. Nip the first rattler." WUT.

Parties without booze/people who drink "in moderation." Absolute worst. You'll be stuck there, talking about nail polish and diapers and what not, hoping you could just become a tiny, tiny version of yourself and slowly drown in your wine glass.

24 Reasons why I'm single

So I've been reading some articles & comment sections on the great Interwebz about what it's like being single, and why people (in this case mostly women) are single to begin with. There is a lot of whining and complaining and self-pity in these; especially the comments section - you know, like, "I am so cute and adorable and pretty and smart ahhh I totally deserve a boyfriend but the universe is against me" crap. Well. I, for one, am not fooling myself. There are plenty of reasons why I'm single. Good reasons. Just see below.

1. I smoke.
I smell and taste like an ashtray. Sexy!

2. I drink.
Sometimes, A LOT.

3. I'm a grammar nazi.
I will mock your grammatical errors shamelessly. However, it is NOT funny if I (for some reason) manage to say something incorrectly.

4. I'm offensive.
On purpose. I've said things like "you remind me of a retarded bear because you move so slowly" and "I should call you a slave because you come from a 3rd world country" to my dates. And then I called him a slave.

5. I'm irritating.
I pinch, poke, pull your hair, and make really stupid remarks about you.

6. I will not share my chocolate.
Like, if you ask if I have any chocolate left, I will most likely say "no" even though I do. Because it's my chocolate and GTFO.

7. I swear "like a pirate."
I've heard this one many times. Well fuck it. Swearing makes talking fun.

8. I have a shoe syndrome.
Not a fetish - no. I just can't handle guys who walk around in running shoes or crocs or something horrid like that. I once made a guy buy 2 pairs of Converse All Stars because I just couldn't take it. Afterwards, he told me, his new girlfriend "totally loved the shoes". Yeah, you're welcome.

9. I can create a fight or a salad out of nothing.
And neither one of these options is really good.

10. I'm neurotic.
Highly, highly neurotic.

11. I make bad decisions.
All the time... You will see.

12. I'm not very romantic.
A guy once bought me a necklace and it was terrifying.

13. I speak about you to my girlfriends (even guy friends although they definitely don't want to hear it).
Yes, THEY KNOW.

14. I'm overly dramatic.
Some of the things I've said or done are absolutely hilarious in retrospect, though. In my opinion at least.

15. I write passive-aggressive text messages and e-mails.
Sometimes I manage not to send them though. But that's not very often.

16. I'm mildly OCD.
You shouldn't try to cook in my kitchen because that makes me #10, #9 and #4 all at once.

17. I have a cat.
And that is kind of like a statement that even though we might be going out for a while, one day I am determined to become the Crazy Cat Lady. It has already begun. It's inevitable.

18. I can be manipulative.
But this you won't realize. Not until it's too late.

19. I have a bad sense of humor.
Because farts are funny.

20. I have an embarrassing dance style.
Like techno viking, but a bit more to the drunk side.

21. I'm weird.
I've also heard this one many, many times. Some guys have disguised the word "weird" by saying I'm "interesting" or "different" or "curious" but that's like eating really bad food, and then trying to compliment it by saying something horribly vague like that.

22. I become aggressive if I drink too much.
Watch out.

23. I'm dysfunctional.
I don't think I have successfully functioned more than 4 hours in a row, ever.

24. I think anyone who dates me has some kind of a mental defect.
I mean, just read points 1-23 again.

I'm pretty sure there's a lot more, but perhaps it's better I just stop here.
Good luck to you, Mr. Next Victim, who will make the horrible mistake of dating me in the future. I pity you already.

For you

I have spent so much time concentrating on other things that I'm pretty sure I've forgotten what's essential. Would you help me remember? It will take some time. You must be patient with me.

Would you remind me

How to give you half of my blanket in bed, because I'm so used to having it all for myself?
How to lay there and listen to you, and what you dreamed of when you were a kid,
How to allow you to make me breakfast in my kitchen, even though you will probably make a mess and it will irritate me that you don't place all the spices in the right places again;
How to let you kiss my neck on a public place without paralyzing?
How to speak of myself without trying to conceal who I truly am?
How not to be afraid of the fact that you like me?
How to give you the last strawberry yoghurt because it's your favorite too,
How to let you see me without make-up, and not be so goddamn intimated by it?
How to count your eyelashes,
How to let you hug me when I've had a rough day,
How to be so anxious to see you again, but not scared shitless that I might not, because you wouldn't let me down like that?
How to let you tell me you've fallen in love, with me, of all creatures on this planet, and it's not ridiculous or stupid, no matter what I say?
How to let you carry the groceries because I don't need to be the superwoman,
How to cry on your shoulder and look all puffed and ridiculous and not care about that,
How to remember that I'm not my failures, or my fears or worries, and that I don't need to be perfect, ever?
How to calm down when I get angry and want to say stupid things, and when I take it all out on you - it's only because I trust you to handle those tantrums?
How to look at your smile and smile back because it's the most wonderful thing on this planet to look at,
How to trust that you're not going anywhere, not anywhere, or maybe to the store to buy some milk but that's it, that's as far as you'll go?
How to love you, and how to be loved in return?

And most of all, would you please remind me, that during all this time, you were arriving as fast as you possibly could, and it took quite a while, it might still take some more - there are all kinds of obstacles on the way - but once you finally get here, you will be here,

Here to stay.

Tick, tock, don't stop

I'm a generally paranoid person so doubting myself or the decisions I've made is an everyday routine for me. I'm used to it; I hardly even notice when I'm criticizing myself anymore. It's fine, I can take it, and sometimes perhaps even manage to learn a thing or two.

I don't really know how to handle big life-altering questions though. Those doubts that you easily shove away and excuse yourself out of them by simply telling yourself there will be time for that, too. Later I will do it. I still have time.

For how much time do I really have?

I'm spending days at the office, stressing myself to the absolute limits, because... Well, firstly, because I get paid. Also, it "looks good in my resume". And as time goes by I'm realizing these are the main reasons for me to go to work.

Oh, it could be worse for sure. I have it quite good to be honest. A steady office job with a decent paycheck and some future prospects even. But some horrible doubts have arisen in my mind and I can't seem to suffocate them - not as I used to at least.

Mostly I find my workdays dreadful. That's it, in all honesty. The amount of work and stress that is poured on me is overwhelming to say the least. I'm spending hours and hours analyzing data that has absolutely no meaning for me. I'm pushing myself to the limit, for a job that really doesn't give me much in return. And in the meanwhile, that is certainly not what I want from life.

People seem to have this great idea about a life - that after an X amount of time, I will actually have the chance to do what I really want to do. Really though? That is such a bullshit line. I'm working now, so that I might have a better job in some years to come - another job that I don't feel passionately about; another job that drains me; and quite honestly I doubt that I will ever reach that magical moment when I can just do what I really want to do.

Unless, of course, I have the courage to actually do it, now. I'm certainly not getting any younger - I've already missed some great opportunities in life, or simply lacked the courage to grab them. How much longer will I wait? If I wait too long, will I lose it, and ultimately forget the things I really wanted to do? Is life just slowly passing me by, while I'm waiting for the right time?

Such horrible doubts to have, and I sincerely don't know what I should do about them. Follow your heart, they always say. And what if my heart is wrong? Then what?

How much longer do I dare to wait?

But who was it for?

A letter that I never sent.
At least I can't recall sending it.
I probably didn't.

_ _ _ _ _

What would I have said if I had had the chance?

I would have told you that I was always honest. Silly, delusional, desperately in love, but honest. I had my wishes and hopes, that now seem ridiculous and shameful.

I would have told you that you put me through hell. Not the hell where people die burning, like the Bible teaches us. But it was a personal hell, where only I burned.

I would have told you that I'm a strong person. I am. And when I hit my darkest moments, I always knew I had my strength to carry me out - yet I also knew that there was a price that I had to pay for that strength, and it was a high price I eventually paid.

I would have told you that your friendship was greatly valued. Whatever the matter, I knew I could tell you and you would understand. Never in a million years did I imagine to find a person like you here. A strange, twisted mirror image of myself.

I would have told you about the moments when I accidentally started thinking of you. At work; at a grocery store; at a bus; at a nightclub; at home - you name it. And every time I thought about you I felt like someone was ripping my heart out of my chest. And then I would continue like nothing ever happened, hoping that nobody would see that ugly, open, bleeding wound right in the middle of my chest.

I would have told you that I've missed you. So many little things that I wanted to tell you, things that you would laugh at, things that would make you happy, things that only you would understand.

I would have told you that the only thing I ever asked of you was honesty, and it was ultimately the only thing you chose not to give me.

And then I would have told you that we will be apart. Unknown, unfamiliar to each other. Non-existent.

I never sent this to you. But I loved you very much.

_ _ _ _ _

I have a sense of drama, it seems.

Glimpses

A darling friend of mine gave me a speech a few days ago. "You should write!" She told me. And I agreed - yes, I will, I am going to start... Any day now.

Of course I did not. For once I can actually say I'm too tired. No thoughts running in my head. But I did manage to do something; I went through a lot of my old texts tonight. Some strange ramblings, random scribbles, letters, letters that I never sent, beginnings of stories, whatever. So in order to do something else than constantly complain about every single goddamn thing in this blog, I will blog some of these short texts here.

I feel the need to say though; there's no beginning or ending in most of these. Let's start with this one. Randomly. It's a true story but does not include the fact that I actually broke my phone right after the call ended. Censorship warning!

- - -

The phone call ended as abruptly as the whole relationship had ended. No warnings, no time to prepare. The battery just died, and stayed off, because even the charger was broken.

A thousand thoughts were flying through the air simultaneously. Making no sense and making the most sense at the same time, they confused her and consumed her and made the anger pop up to the surface once more. This time it returned with such edge and sharpness she hadn't felt like it before. It nearly paralyzed her. She could feel her heart wanting to break away from her chest, and she could feel her blood rushing through her veins like race cars. Yet she was unable to move, to make a sound, to even breath for a little while.

They had told her that things pass. Everything passes. The pain subsides and the hatred fades away, only to become a vague memory of a once pure feeling. And the love? Yes, that passes also. Until it's only a past dream that you can hardly recall - the faces are strange and their mouths move but you can't hear what they're saying anymore. That's how love passes. You fall down, and before you hit the ground you're terrified and scared - so, so scared, but once you hit the ground you go numb and another life has gone like that, and another one has begun, even without you knowing it.

Is it fair, to live like this, to love like this? She thought. Is it even meaningful, or are some of us here just to look and observe, never to achieve that what those others so easily stumble upon?

It's not, she concluded. And it's painful, too. And this world is too much to handle for a small girl like she is. It's too much to handle. And that's when she decided she wouldn't try to handle the world anymore. Maybe it was time for the world to try to handle her.

- - -

There we go. No whining.
Until next time...

Quietly

I calculated that I slept nearly 24 hours during the past weekend. That's one full day. Quite a lot, now that I think of it - but I really needed it. I didn't do anything purposeful for 2 days, safe for cleaning up and doing some laundry. And spending some quality time with my equally busy (and a bit stressed) friends.

My mindset is a bit more mellow now that I managed to reboot my brain. The good news is also that I will have this Friday off - so only 4 days of agony this week. And it will most likely become agony again, as we're receiving 2 new agents at the same time, perhaps on Wednesday. Obviously I have very little idea how to plan their training - I'm still in the learning process myself. Brain explosion is looming near again. I'll try to enjoy the mild serenity while it lasts.

Some unspoken restlessness is still present though. A sense of urgency but I can't figure out what it is. There's just no oblivion out there for me, is there? No sweet ignorance, no euphoric happiness. Did I ever even have that? I don't think so. Probably I'm just more aware of harsh realities of life nowadays.

Growing old really sucks ass.