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15 July 2010 @ 11:48 pm
 You know when you have to get up in the morning, and you know you need to sleep, except that when you go to bed all you can think about is how you need to get to sleep and you get stressed out when you realise you're still awake and you can't sleep because you're stressed out?

Well, here I am, and I have to be up in 6.5 hours. I went to bed at 9:30. That was two hours ago.

Two. Fucking. Hours.

I have eczema, which is basically an unbearably itchy rash (think scratching your skin off itchy--not even exaggerating here) that you can never get rid of, no matter how hard you try, and mine is triggered by stress. We thought for years it was food allergies--sugar, wheat and dairy--so I spent my childhood eating rice and basically nothing else. But it's stress. Only when I am happy and carefree does it ever go away.

Well, I've been back at my mother's house for about 18 hours (after a month of living with my dad, who's now gone away for 3 weeks) and it's already so inflamed that I can hardly move. We've already had a fight, and Trying to fall asleep tonight has been torture. And now I've given up and I'm on here, and I have yet another 8-hour day of work tomorrow, and my feet are already blistered and still so, so sore despite having been sedentary ever since I got home today...I am going to need yerba mate. Lots and lots of yerba mate.

Frankly, if that's not proof that it's not just my self-centered, bitchy, egotistical and ungrateful nature at work, as she would have me believe, then I don't know what is. My entire body is screaming its protests of being in her house and her presence. I just can't be around her, it's a fact. I don't care that I'm moving to the other side of the world in six weeks, I can't put up with her shit.

I'd rather live by myself in my dad's house. It doesn't make much difference either way; she doesn't do shit for me here that requires any extra effort, so I may as well be living by myself here. I still have to cook myself dinner, hitchhike everywhere, clean the house. The only difference between here and there is that I get to choose when to clean when I'm alone and nobody screams at me if I don't. 

It's sad, really. I tried being nicer, I tried being less lazy, but it all boils down to the fact that I really dislike my mother. If she weren't related to me, I'd have nothing to do with her. She is mean, petty, moody and selfish, and won't go an inch out of her own way for me. She's always unhappy, and she takes it out on me. She hates my father so much that she ruins her own life because of it...not to mention forces me to side with either him or her, and won't let me have a decent relationship with both of them at the same time.

She stopped caring for me years ago. The only reason I'm at this house is because of my cat.

I'm going to try sleeping again...hopefully I won't be back.

I bet I will, though.


Current Mood: aggravatedaggravated
09 July 2010 @ 02:20 pm
I'm leaving in about half an hour for a music festival, WOOT WOOT!
I'll be back on Monday with several rolls of film filled with Holga photos and, if last year is anything to go by, probably some free condoms.

I'll write all about it when I get back on Monday. 

09 July 2010 @ 01:03 pm
 OK. I am seriously disturbed.

I had this dream this morning and I'm wondering whether or not I should check myself in to a psych ward.

First off, I had been assigned a task by someone's family to get rid of a tiger that was randomly in their house. Supposedly I had already gone Pest Control on the asses of two other tigers, so by that time I was a professional tiger-killer. 

I went into this family's living room, where the tiger was lying all docile-like on the carpet. For some reason, I think it knew and accepted that I was going to kill it. My weapon of choice was, inexplicably, Godric Gryffindor's sword, and I was all set to deal the fatal stroke, when I hesitated...the tiger even stretched its neck out helpfully. But I couldn't do it; I couldn't kill it. 

Instead, I put the sword down and started making out with it.

In my defence, as soon as we started kissing, it morphed...kind of like a frog prince sort of deal. It certainly wasn't 100% tiger by this point, and had some very...human qualities. Soon enough he was a he, and a very tall and fit he who I think was in a tiger suit. I wasn't really paying attention, seeing as we were having some extremely kinky sex by then. I'll spare the details.

I don't know exactly when he morphed into my ex-boyfriend, but it was pretty soon before I woke up. Feeling very very confused.
Tags: , ,
Current Mood: confusedconfused
Current Music: Two Shoes - The Cat Empire
06 July 2010 @ 06:09 pm
 Hey, LJ. Take me back?
I didn't think so, especially seeing as this isn't a promise of commitment. I left without warning, I cheated on you, and after all that I come crawling back without even a guarantee of leaving tumblr for you? I can see why you're pissed. I would be too. Still, you're just going to have to accept that it's gonna be an open relationship, kk?
Well, anyway, not to talk about your competition, but tumblr's been great...nevertheless, it's not really the place for thoughtful brain-ramblings. it's great for picspams and Twitter-like life updates. But I gotta say, I miss being able to write 100-word + entries on interesting shit that happened in my day or something. It's fun, but the ADD gets tiring. 
Whatever. It's because I'm out of school and have nothing better to do with my life now. Now that there's time, I feel like writing more. Plus, summertime is when the fangirl inside me gets restless and there's only so much you can find out through tumblr. 
Jeez. Blogs. So demanding, always sucking up your whole life...
Current Mood: lethargiclethargic
Current Music: Cold Desert - Kings of Leon
15 February 2010 @ 09:53 pm
Ok. So I'm back! Maybe, probably...make that almost definitely not for long, but hey. I'm a lot better off since you last saw me, even after that stinky break-up with my boyfriend...ex-boyfriend...that I didn't write about in here because I couldn't see through my haze of tears and pain, in so many words.
Although I couldn't bring myself to believe it exactly two months ago (look how sad I am, I still keep track of all these dates), time really does heal all wounds and blah blah blah. Still, breakups suck. Avoid at all costs. They make you fat. Ice cream is evil.
ANYWAY, now that I'm not inhaling junk food/ instigating a one-sided relationship with the TV, I'm kind of realising how awesome my life is. I've come to realise that:
1. I can dance salsa like a hot tamale
2. I can dance salsa like a hot tamale WITH WHOMEVER I SO WISH now that I'm single
3. I spend about 80% of my life surrounded by music
4. I have really wonderful friends and that I shouldn't overlook them because they're cooler than anyone in that other social circle I used to covet
5. I'm pretty cool myself, I mean, I can speak French
6. My life is going to continue to be awesome...I mean, I can speak French

It will be even awesomer once I get a camera. WHICH I AM GOING TO because the Yearbook budget is buying its FABULOUS editrices (yours truly, plus another) $100 worth of gift. This gift will come in the form of a Holga camera starter kit, including film and colour filters and book and film and the WHOLE SHABANG. Take THAT, indie-chic. I'mma vignette you green with envy.

It does not, of course, solve the problem of not being able to have imgz on cmptr but there's a scnr at the school so at least I can put them up on Facebook of I'm desperate. Once I get a job I'll buy a DSLR, I promise.
Current Mood: excitedexcited
Current Music: Hey, Soul Sister - Train
28 November 2009 @ 10:54 pm
I knew this would happen. I was a bit idiotic for making this blog in the first place. The irritating voice in my head that self-righteously names itself my conscience berated me as I clicked the 'sign up' button, saying I'd post a few entries for about a week and then forget I made the blog in the first place--which is exactly what happened with my other one.
My conscience, as always, was annoyingly and inarguably right. I'm in my graduating year of high school--and on top of all the stress of an impending life, I excitedly agreed at the end of last year to take on the position of Yearbook editor, along with another artistic and graphically proficient soul who also happens to be one of my best friends. What I wasn't aware of at the time was the fact that I would end up spending about 20 extracurricular hours per week in that room, staring at the screen of a Mac, who was affectionately named Moe by last year's editrix league. Don't get me wrong, we have a good time--we're making a baby, after all, out of Adobe Photoshop and a vision. This book will be our bastard brainchild, to be lovingly and nostalgically admired by our generation and laughed at by the ones to come. But the fact of the matter is, I really don't have time for this place. My internet life, previously far too active to be remotely healthy, has now been cut down to at most an hour a day, usually divided between sending out panicked emails to the school administrators begging for someone to open the school for us on a Saturday, finishing homework from two weeks ago, and reassuring overseas friends over Facebook that I am, in fact, still alive. The only reason I made this blog in the first place was because the stress of a deadline had caused me to become susceptible to a flu that kept me bored at home for a week.
And so, LiveJournal, I really am not sure when, or even if, I'll see you again. I certainly enjoyed the time I had with you, and I dearly hope there will be more, but I highly doubt it'll be any time before Christmas break starts. There's much I'd like to tell you...but until then, I'll just have to hope that I retain a spot of sanity somehow.
A bientôt,

Rosie. xxx
Current Mood: exhaustedexhausted
Current Music: Tidings - Allison Crowe
13 November 2009 @ 11:09 pm
I don't care if it's too early to listen to Christmas music. It makes me happy. And anyway, it's not too early to listen to Christmas music, it's already November. The themed candy was in stores ages ago.
It's weird, I thought I'd hate Christmas this year. My boyfriend and I started dating on the 26th of December 2008, but he can't come back to visit this Christmas break...he can't afford it and even if he could, supposedly his dad won't let him anyway. Add that to the fact that my two best friends will be having THEIR German boyfriends visit for Christmas, so I'll be left to wallow in my celibacy alone, reliving over and over again those days, bitterly thinking how much better everything was back then...yes, I was under the impression that I would rather eat shit and die than live through this Christmas.
Not so. As soon as I re-checked all those wintry songs in iTunes, as soon as I tasted that delicious pepperminty chocolate, all of my seasonal spirit came flooding back and, despite myself, I'm ridiculously excited, as I always am. It's unavoidable. I'm hardwired to love Christmas. It's just so lovely...everyone will be in their scarves and gloves and it will start snowing and there'll be cider and hot chocolate and carol singing...and those peppermint mochas that are actually the most amazing things ever.
There's also the fact that this year, I actually know what I'm getting people.
For the first time. Ever.
Current Mood: sillysilly
Current Music: Talk - Coldplay
12 November 2009 @ 12:00 am
You know, for someone who took me to Paris for four beautiful summer days, for someone who kissed me on the Pont-Neuf while the sun set, you're failing pretty badly at romanticism right now.
What happened? Ever since we separated, all you've been able to talk about is the end. You think it has to end sometime soon. We don't have a hope of being together in the future if it doesn't end. You're not sure what the point of continuing this relationship is if it's just going to end anyway...but then you say you don't want it to.
And I don't understand. I get that seeing eachother only every eight months or so, for no more than two weeks, isn't really sensible, but it wouldn't have to be eight months--I'm moving back halfway across the world in August, back to an hour-long plane ride away from you, back to where we really stand a solid chance. I get that we should probably go and explore with other people before we settle down for good; this is our first real relationship for both of us. But this isn't just some fling, this is REAL LOVE. For you even more than it is for me.
 I get that it's hard. I get why you might not think it's worth it. I know you're seriously hurting over there without me and it hurts me too, I can tell you. But those two weeks in April will arrive, I promise you, and they will be beautiful. Painfully, destructively beautiful, but beautiful. Beautiful like it used to be. Beautiful like our relationship is. Or could be, if you could just LET it be. We were so spontaneous, so wild and free. When did this rationality set in? This cold calculation that is telling you to throw away the girl you love more than anything? Love is not rational. Love is the bane of rationality's existence. Why can't you just close your self-righteous mouth for once and see where it takes us?
 I never thought I'd be the shepherd. But I am, and you are my nymph, whose inability to dream shuts off your heart and turns you to stone, while I continue to dance in my eternal April around a statue, making promises of beauty to nothing but the wind.
Current Music: Please Don't Go - Barcelona
11 November 2009 @ 05:48 pm
Sometimes I wonder if fire is actually alive. If maybe it's an incarnation of life from another plane. In the winter, it's what everyone in a small rural community in Canada somewhere gravitates toward. At home, the biggest and most understood priority is to keep the fire 'alive'. The feeling of blowing on it and watching a flame burst out of what used to be virtually nothing gives you a shocking rush of adrenaline that you didn't know was there.

It moves on its own. Water moves because the wind makes it, or because of the currents, but fire dances in its voracious vitality.

Maybe it isn't alive in itself--maybe its purpose is to remind you of your life. It can take yours away, but you need it to survive, just the same--and in its constant reminder of this, you realise you are living, breathing life...

Also, if anybody ever reads this and can tell me how to change the orange border of my entries box to brown, that would be great. I can't find it in my CSS and it's pissing me off.
Current Location: fireside
Current Mood: cheerfulcozy
Current Music: Where Does the Good Go - Tegan and Sara
11 November 2009 @ 05:09 pm
If you could only listen to one CD for the rest of your life, what would you choose and why?

Continuum by John Mayer. I don't know why, but this is the only CD that I've never gotten sick of after constant repetition. It's just so well-rounded and perfect, I wouldn't change a single thing on it.
He's not even my favourite artist, but I play this CD more than any others.
Close seconds would be Viva La Vida or Death and All His Friends - Coldplay, Grace - Jeff Buckley and Life in Cartoon Motion - Mika.
Current Mood: contentcontent
Current Music: Clocks - Coldplay