Roses

Lately my mouth has been incredibly dry. You know the way it gets when you're about to have a cold? Yea, it's like that, only I'm less tired than compared to having a cold. Or well, that's not really true but that's more my own fault for not sleeping properly than anything else.
The point is that I've been drinking incredible amounts of water lately and I just didn't know why. That's of course until Mr. English said the following sentence: "my mouth's really dry lately and I just can't make sense of it - do you think it's got something to do with the dehumidifyer?" and suddenly it all made sense. Now I hate it even more. It's a shame really because it's not the dehumidifyer's, from here on called "Bob", fault. Bob can't help that he's loud, obnoxious and annoying. For that we blame the people who created Bob, who brought him into this world and who then ditched him in my apartment. Poor Bob, ugly and loved by no one.

I think I'll go give him a hug. After I stick an axe in his head, of course.

"Maybe it's for the best."

Yep, we're gonna have a dehumidifyer. It sucks. I don't want something in my kitchen that goes "brrrrrrrrrm" for two weeks. I got stuff to do that requires silence. Oh, no I don't. I guess it'll just be really high music from now on. Shame.

Con Air. What a fantastic movie that is. It has everything. Guns, rain and American flags waving in the wind. The only role that Dave Chapelle was good in, John Malkovich and Steve Buscemi. I remember watching Con Air in the 8th grade and it was instant love. Of course, then I saw it in another way, but I still love it. I mean, how can you not love John Malkovich playing a psycho? Or Steve Buscemi playing an even bigger psycho who's mental capacity can be questioned?

I can also highly recommend Quarantine. It stinks of low-budget-production, but it's actually really good.

venizei

Tomorrow the gods of the dehumidifying will descend and together we will say goodbye to the mold! At least that's what I hope. I hope that they will wave a wand and all the mold in the kitchen will magically disappear. Oh, what a world that would be. What a world, indeed.
Of course this won't happen. They'll probably look at it and go "hrm" and "hrrrm" and then put down a big dehumidifyer that goes "brrrrrrrrrrrm" all the time and then say "we'll be back in two weeks, leave it on".

Damn you mold. Damn you to hell!

Hide!

Shire...
Baggins...

At some point in my life I would like to be a ringwraith. Dark and hissing and terrifying. It'd be awesome. Imagine some douchebag walking around thinking he's all that and then you just ride up to him and hiss. Oh, that poor son of a bitch would shit his pants faster than he'd say "ale". It'd be absolutely fantastic. Of course, I'd be bound to Sauron and that would kinda suck, but hissing and darkness! I'm sure several people would oppose to me being a wraith so of course I would make sure to dispose of them quickly. Can't let anything keep me from pursuing the dream now, can I?

Moonshine.

You know, I once slept under the night sky. No roof over my head and a simple sleeping bag covering my body. They always glamourise it in movies and make it into this amazing experience. It's really not all it's cracked up to be. Sure, on the evening before you go to sleep it's pretty fantastic to actually be out under the stars and have the moon be the last thing you see before you go to sleep, but in the morning... Oh, in the morning it is not good. In the morning it is cold and it wet. Oh, it is so wet. Even if it hasn't been raining you're basically soaked through with dew. Your face, your sleeping bag, the ground around you. In my case I was sleeping sitting up in one of my parents' garden chairs together with a friend and of course a sitting position is never fabulous to wake up from. So if you ever plan to try it - don't. Sleep in a nice, warm, comfy bed instead. And if you really have to try it - make sure you sleep lying down.

pebbles

The crook of my arms look like I've been using needles. Lots of teeny tiny red dots speckle them and all because I chose to wear a cardigan yesterday and then carry some grocery bags home from the shop. I assume the constant change of the baghandles pushed the threads of the cardigan around my skin and resulted in the needledots. No, I haven't actually stung myself with needles, thanks for asking. Not since I accidentally got one my fingers stuck in a sewing machine and broke that needle. It's a lot less painful than you might think, although it's incredibly creepy. One minute you're sewing something and the next you stitch yourself in three places and the needle go across the room. Not to mention the blood. There's a lot of blood in the top of the finger. Since then I always take extra care not to get my fingers stuck there again, but, knowing me, I'll probably stitch my whole arm at some point again. Good day to you.

Beginning.

Elijah Wood would be such a good gollum. He really has the eyes for it. They wouldn't even have to use a suit. Imagine all the money they could've saved with that. Then again, I guess it would be hard to call Lord of the Rings "an epic movie triology" if Elijah Wood played both Frodo and Gollum. He'd look even more schizophrenic than Gollum does. And I have to admit that Andy Serkis does a fantastic job with Gollum. All that work to only be seen on screen once. That's damn impressive.

I wish my fairytale would be as epic as Lord of the Rings. I hope for it to be read by generations to come. I dream of the day when someone will tell me that they had trouble putting it down and it saddened them when it was finished. Of course... for all this to ever have a slight chance of happening I need to write it. There's always some catch, isn't there...?

smackjawed idiot

I like coffee
I like soda
I like water
and whiskey
and beer

I like big pints
I like small pints
I would even drink a cup of tea
La la la la la la la la la la
Who's that cup of tea on the la-la-lawn?

Tea is a fantastic thing to drink. It's much less addictive than coffee and it tastes so much better. (In my case it's, in fact, no addiction at all.) It changes your priorities to live with someone from another country. In my case it went from food --> everything else to TEA, TEA, TEA, DIDN'T YOU HEAR ME WHEN I SAID 'TEA?!' ---> everything else. In fact, I estimate that my tea-drinking has gone up with at least 500% over the last 10 months. At least I drank tea before so I did have a liking for it. Imagine starting with something completely new... Oh, that reminds me - gotta forcefeed Mr. English salt liqorice.

You have to be there

It's hard to ask for help. I never realised how hard it was until I got down into the shit myself. I mean, if you're happy then you know that it's okay to ask someone taller than you to pick down that jar of pickles in the store because you simply can't reach. When you're down you won't ask. Asking will be admitting that there's yet another thing you can't do on your own so you'll just leave it. You'll know that you really needed that jar of pickles and you'll curse yourself because you didn't ask someone to take it down for you, but you won't go back. You won't ask. You'll leave it and hope that it magically finds its way to your hand. Asking is admitting defeat. Asking is admitting that you're weak. Asking shows others that you can't make it by yourself.

In 2009 when I took leave of absense from work to study I got really down. I made up excuses not to go to school and stayed at home on my couch watching Twilight over and over. (Because a vampire would surely come and find me and take me away... Yea, right.) It wasn't until I started talking to one of my friends that I started going outside the apartment. He didn't feel well either so we started having a quiz-thing via text messages. That quiz-thing lasted for days. If we didn't go to our respective things we had to explain why and endure the torment. It was worth it, beause it made me go outside and meet people and ask for help. It made me admit to myself that I couldn't make it on my own right now. And you know what? People were incredibly helpful without judging. Without telling me that I couldn't do it on my own.


This is entry number 500. Have a little ginger kitten.

insanity

Three days later and still no bag. What we know now is that the bag might be at the police station, but they can't confirm it over the phone if it is. No, we have to get over there and ask for it. It's like meeting the Vogons - if you don't have form A, you're not allowed to see form B and if you don't have form C filled and stamped over a duration of five days you can't access form A and the only way to get form C is to accidentally stumble over it a rainy Sunday in June and then only between 14:45 and 15:31.

I get that they have their ideas and rules, but sheesh - gimme my bloody plastic bag!

fantasy

Have you ever forced someone out of bed at 5:30am on a Thursday? It's much more amusing than I would've thought. Especially when that someone was looking forward to not moving from the bed until 2pm. Then you cover the poor person's eyes with a blindfold and tell the person to use headphones (in this case really big black ones). Then you don't tell him where you're going and let him work it out for himself. In this case it was "you're gonna take me out into the woods and kill me with an axe, aren't you?" and "I'm not gonna end up in Guantanamo Bay, am I?" - ah, it was fun. So the poor guy was forced up from the bed, forced to get dressed with the stuff I pushed into his hands and then he was forced down the stairs and into a car. All the while without knowing where he was going. At the airport I told him where we were going and the end of two months preparation finally came. So the last five days have been spent in England with friends and family and it sucked to go back home.

Things we've learned from this trip:

1. Don't discuss the mystery of aero dynamics and how planes can stay up in the air while being on a plane in the air with someone who's afraid of flying.
   
   
2. Don't leave stuff on the plane. It's insanely hard to get it back if you don't have any form of ID in there.
   
   
3. Post-holiday-blues sucks ass, but it's nice to have someone to share it with.

The rock feels no pain.

Lately I've been playing Theme Hospital on playstation 1. I'd forgotten how much fun it is to pretend that you run a hospital and now, as a somewhat adult and responsible person, I realise how accurate it actually is.

- There are no benches - your patients have to stand.
- My patients will do whatever I tell them to do.

It's good to play God. I should do it more often. If nothing else then to remind myself that I should never be in a position of power. Ever. I don't work well with power. Then again, there are a lot of people with power who don't work well with power so maybe it's a common thing. I wonder if there's help for it? Maybe a little pink pill - "anti-corrower" (corruption/power). Take three times a day with a glass of milk - water won't do.

Crash Dash

Exercising the deadly sin of slothing off on the couch is really nice. In fact it's so nice that I've been doing it for several days. I think the world would be a better place if more people slothed off on their couches. There'd be less tension in the world and just more... flow. People would be more relaxed and not so stressed out all the time. Of course, it would also give them time to plan and scheme... Hrm, I'm not sure that would be ideal to the world. I'll get back to you on this after careful evaluation.

Have you ever had a secret so big that just the thought of keeping it makes you burst from the inside? For me it's the present for Mr. English on his birthday. It's a fantastic present and I've been keeping it hidden for months. Although... pretty much everyone except Mr. English knows so I'm not really sure that it constitutes as a secret anymore. Maybe it's just a normal present. God, that sounds boring. Maybe I should just tell him that I've planned a G.I. Joe-adventure and that we'll be a bunch of friends who go far into the woods and shoot on each other with paintball-guns. Or maybe I'll just wait until Thursday and simply tell him. What's one more day of secret-keeping, right?