Headache no more

My headache (the one I had constantly for about a week), as almost completely gone. I still get a little ache if I'm in front of the computer too long, but I just feel so much better man.

I hate feeling sick, although I guess everyone does really.

Inspiration

There are some days when I have three separate ideas for a story all at once, and then there are days when I have no ideas at all. The problem is in both situations I end up not writing anything at all.

If I have too many ideas, well then I can't decide and so I daydream about them instead, one after the other. And if I have no ideas well it's easy enough to understand how I might not write then, isn't it?

There doesn't seem to be any middle ground, or at least there isn't much of it.

Procrastineuse professionnelle

Monday is the worst day of the week, I'm pretty sure this is common knowledge. I mean I don't know anyone who gets up on Monday morning and goes "Yes! I have to work now! TGIM".

If I ever met someone like think I would be very afraid.

And it just so happens that Monday is my longest day in terms of how many hours of class I have (at least for the moment), and it's also the day where I have my least favourite class.

Jurisdictional Institutions.

Even the name turns my brain to mulch. Anyway I survived the lesson (barely) and I've been at home for three hours staring at the blank piece of paper I'm supposed to be preparing my notes with.

Basically instead of working I've been messing around on the Internet and daydreaming. And the longer I wait until I actually start working, the later I'll be finished. Which means I might end up working when it's late and I hate that. And yet, here I am, writing this instead of getting my shit together and just finished the blasted work.

 Procrastination is an evil thing indeed.

Clare is a champion

My Irish side of the family is sport obsessed. Wait. Actually no so is my french side.

Ok so my entire family is sports obsessed. But the French side is mostly obsessed with kayaking whereas on the Irish side it's more like "Woo Rugby! Woo Hurling!", and whatnot.

Anyways so my family and I come from the magical county of Clare. And today Clare won the all Ireland championship (at least that's what I think it's called).

Everyone I know from Ireland pretty much went mental. And I'm just left standing here feeling pleased but quite bemused too.

I have no idea what we've won, how we've won, or why it's so special?

I suck at sports. I can't do sports and I can't follow it either. The only sport I can get mildly into is rugby (I'm not entirely sure why either), everything else is all the same to me.

But sshh don't tell my family they'll be angry with me...

Might as well celebrate anyway, I mean even if I'm completely lost and have not the slightest clue what going on, it's as good an excuse to be happy as anything else.

Up the banner?

Locking up

I moved in with one of my best friends this year, and we've been living together in our apartment for about a month now. This weekend she went home, and I didn't and so I spent my very first weekend alone in this apartment.

I was a lot more nervous than I thought I would be. In the day time it was fine, it wasn't that different than usual really, cause I could just imagine that my friend was in class or something.

When night fell it wasn't so easy. I guess I don't feel as safe when I'm sleeping in a house alone. I mean it's the same when I'm alone at my mums or at my dads, except that I'm more used to it I guess.

In any case I ended up doing a lot of stuff to make myself feel safe enough to sleep. And by stuff I mean I shut all the doors in the place (the only reason I didn't lock them is because I don't have a key), double locked the front door, made sure all our windows were closed, and then I locked myself in my bedroom (I have key for my bedroom).

And then I slept just fine. It's funny though, how you sometimes feel safer when you're in a smaller space? It's like you're in control of that space and all is well. I like that.

Downloading

I'm trying to download a TV show on itune and it's taking forever. Seriously it's ridiculous. It shouldn't take all day for a tv show to go from itunes to my computer.

At least I have nothing better to do anyway.

Headaches

I've had a headache for four fucking days.

Four. Long. Days.

It's not a real headache, like I'm not in any real pain, it's just a tension headache. It certainly isn't helped by the fact that every morning by the fact that I spend every morning in class typing out on my computer screen.

I'm just tired man. Tired and sick.

Moving on

I came home to my mothers house the day before last, after spending a little over a week at my apartment with my friend.

It didn't feel very welcoming.

It's a strange feeling, kind of like being out of place. A feeling of not quite belonging. I don't think I belong here anymore. Which is a little sad.

But maybe it's a good thing too. Maybe it means I'm finally ready to go out into the big bad world, and actually face it without crying for my mothers arms and my fathers protection.

I'm not sure I am quite ready though. I'm certainly readier than I was last year, but I don't think I've gotten to the point where I can claim that I'm ready for independence yet. I'm still very afraid, and I still need someone to hold my hand.

Maybe I've just changed the hands that I'm holding.

I have a cousin who inspires me to believe that I can be great, a friend who lets me hold her hand, and another who tells me what I need to hear when I need to hear it.

So powers that used to belong to my parents, belong to those three friends now.

And I'm glad because I love them. But I'm sad because I miss my parents. Sometimes I miss them when they're right there in front of me. They're starting to feel so distant and I think that the only cure is to leave.

I don't know. I hope I will someday. In the meantime I have my friends, my books and my faith. And Bob, no one must ever forget Bob.

Working hard

I started class Monday, that is to say, yesterday. It went pretty well actually. I didn't know anyone but I managed to start talking to someone and now we sit together.

The classes are interesting enough, but I'm a little bored for the moment because this is all stuff that I've already done.

I have, however, made an important resolution.

I am not going to wait until the mast minute to study and work on my notes like I did last year. No damn way, I am not doing that again.

So after class I'm going to make my revision papers immediately, because it's a lot easier to condense four pages every day, than to do forty, or even fifty (and that's per subject) in less than two weeks.

I just really hope I keep the rhythm, as it is, after all, only the beginning. Woopi.

"Do you have time to speak of our Lord and Saviour?"

Yesterday I was just chilling with my friend and house mate in our apartment, when suddenly the doorbell rang. Assuming it was our friend who had come early we both went to open the door only to discover that it was, in fact, not her. Oh no.

It was two very nice looking ladies who asked us if they could ask us a few questions. We then assumed they were doing some kind of survey and agreed.

They were not doing a survey.

They asked us what we thought the cause of all suffering was (I answered war because I got embarrassed by the sudden pause of talking), and then one of them noticed that I was wearing a cross and asked me if I was religious.

Still not getting what on earth was going on I answered yes.

She then zeroed in on me, showing me her pamplets and quoting the Bible. She said a lot of stuff about salvation and "the meek shall inherit the earth", etc.

They then said goodbye, telling us that they might come by in a few weeks after we had read the pamplets in case we were interested.

Only after they had left did I read the title on the pamplets that I had been handed by the nice but slightly pushy lady.

Yeah they were Jehovahs Witenesses. Oops.

P.S

I was meant to have my first day of class today, but it turns out I actually start next monday. So this morning instead of having to get up and concentrate, I got to sleep in and then watch a movie.

Some days are just a pleasure to live.

Writing letters

I love writing letters. I mean I love emails and text messages just as much as the next person, but there's just something more special about getting an actual paper letter.

Usually when I write a letter it's a spoof letter, because for giving actual important news email is just easier. But funny joke letters are always brilliant. At least I try to make them funny. My humour isn't always top quality. But hey I try!

I sent a letter today, except that it was an actual proper letter. I just felt like writing a real letter to my uncle who lives in America. Every now and again I give him some news via email, and I don't know I just thought that maybe an actual letter might be more fun. I mean it's different, isn't it?

I hope I don't come off as crazy or anything. Just because I'd love it if people sent me letters doesn't mean that's the case for everyone.

In any case it's done now. It's sent, and I don't regret it. I'm not sure how long it takes for a letter to go from France to the States though. I'll probably forget I ever did it and then get confused when/if he ever answers.

Oh well.

And the dish ran away with the spoon

My mum, sister and stepfather went for a walk in town this afternoon. I was went to go with them but for some reason I was really tired this morning and so I ended up going back to bed instead.

So instead of going outside in the sun and spending time with members of my family, I fell asleep for an hour then watched two movies (Zombieland and Corpse Bride).

Good going Chloe.

Anyway when they came back in the evening my stepdad had brought me back a book called "Complete Nonsense" by Edward Lear. It's the coolest thing, oh my goodness.

Anyway after having had a look through it I can't get "hey diddle diddle" out of my head, even though it wasn't actually written my Edward Lear. Oh well.

Hey diddle diddle,

The Cat and the fiddle,

The Cow jumped over the moon.

The little Dog laughed,

To see such sport,

And the Dish ran away with the Spoon.

The most important person

I had a two hour phone conversation with my best friend this evening. It was as awesome as anything awesome can be.

I miss her so much.

You see she's been working all summer so we're hardly been able to talk. The fact that she lives in an other country doesn't help either.

I can't even begin to explain my love for this person. It's gotten to a point that I'm almost afraid to express it because I'm afraid that I might love her more than she does and that would be painful. But then she assures me that it's actually the opposite so I think that we're probably ok.

Still I worry now and again. I always do.

She is number one and she always has been and always will be. Period. She's not my best friend, she's my soul mate, it's a whole different story.

I don't know man, I just really love her. Let the whole world know.

So yeah Tam since I know you're reading this I shall leave you the following message : you should probably be afraid of me. And did I mention that I love you a lot?

Freedom & Love

Tomorrow I'm going to have the whole day to myself. I haven't had one of those for a little while. I'm hesitating spending the whole day reading a book (or maybe two), or watching the second half of the first season of American Horror Story.

Tough choice.

Either way school starts in less than a week so I might as well enjoy the last moments of complete free time that I have left.

If a watch the show I could cuddle up with my cat, and I can't do that if I read. He always pushes the book away as if to tell me to pet him instead of hold up the silly useless paper thing.

I'm going to miss him when I go back to college. It's almost sad how the creature I miss the most, and who probably misses me the most is my cat.

He's my baby, my darling, my boy. I can't imagine loving anything or anyone more. He's so perfect.

So if he shows up in the early afternoon, I'll watch the show. If he doesn't I'll read. Either way it's not like I'm studying. To think I might spend my last moments of freedom doing that.

An outing with a five year old

I looked after my sister again today. We went to the river on our little scooters, because I thought I would make an effort for once and not just turn on the TV.

I ended up irritated and she ended up crying.

Not cause i yelled at her or anything, I'm not that much of an awful sister. No she just got really tired and fell over three or four times. Completely by accident too but it doesn't make me look good does it? Bringing my baby sister home covered in scratches and bruises while being in a not so good mood.

It wasn't that bad really. I just don't have the energy, or nurturing instinct required to enjoy looking after a hyperactive five year old.

In any case we didn't have a bad day. We went out, she swam a bit and played with my dads dog (my dad isn't her dad). She even got to have a bubble bath when we got home.

Goodness, I can't remember the last time I had a bubble bath. It must be nice being five.

Kitty therapy

On a more pleasant note than my last post, my cat is currently asleep at my feet on my bed.

He's just a fat, fuzzy, sleepy pile of pure happiness. Every now and again is nose just twitches.

Just looking at him makes me feel a lot happier.

Immediately after writing the previous sentence he came up and sat on me instead.

I feel better now.

Fear

I don't have panic attacks, or anxiety attacks or whatever you call them. I'm lucky enough to be able to keep control of my own body and breathing when I panic.

Sometimes though, when I'm alone, usually in my bed at night, I get what I can only describe as a fear attack. There is nothing physical about it, I don't have any trouble breathing or anything like that. It's just that all of a sudden I get crushed by an overwhelming fear or everything. Of nothing. Of anything.

I don't know why I'm afraid, I just am, and it's awful.

I'm afraid right now. Because the world is going to shit, as it always is, and I feel terrified. I don't know what's going to happen, and that scares me.

And the worse thing is that there is absolutely nothing I can do except curl up with Bob, my childhood cuddly toy, and wait it out until I eventually fall asleep.

It fucking sucks man.

School?

I realised yesterday that I start school next week. Yeah I wasn't ready for that realisation.

My body is not ready! I've been falling asleep around midnight and getting up at eleven everyday all summer! How can anyone expect me to get up at half six to get to class??

Oh Lord. I'm going to die.

Chloe, comment les bébés arrivent dans les ventres des mamans?

Today I was babysitting my younger sister, her parents (my mother and stepfather) being at work. I have done this many times before so there should have been no cause for alarm.

But then something happened. Something that was not I repeat not supposed to happen without the presence of her mother.

Caitlin asked me how babies end up in the mummies tummy.

I don't want to have to have the talk with my five year old baby sister. Oh God no.

See many people believe that young children should just be told some bullshit story about storks and cabbage, and then when they are "ready", and around the age of twelve, then they will get the talk.

Um no.

My mother firmly believes (and I agree, as much as I might have wished that I didn't today) that you should always tell kids the truth, no matter how unpleasant it may seem. That's why I had basic knowledge of human reproduction at the age of eight.

Anyhow I had about three seconds to come up with a child friendly but truthful explanation at how babies get in the mothers stomach.

I came out with the following : so mummies have lots of little eggs in their bellies, and daddies have these special seeds, and when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much they give each other a special hug and the seed goes to the egg and they mush together and then we wait nine months for the baby to grow.

Bam human reproduction for five year olds.

Drugs and enthusiasm

I've been taking some medication for the past two months to help with my anxiety and my constant crushing inability to actually even try to enjoy my life. I'm actually feeling much better, which is a relief.

The first thing that came back was my sense of humour, and by that I mean that I started making more shitty jokes, and not because I was pretending to be ok, but because I genuinely felt like being a sarcastic dick again.

Then I started making plans. For real, actual plans, as in things that I actually feel like doing and intend to do one day. As opposed to just wanting to lie in my bed all day and do fuck all.

The next thing to show up was enthusiasm. Is it sad to say that I almost didn't recognise the feeling at first? I'm am doing something and I don't feel numb. It's incredible, and joyful, and wonderful, and amazing.

I'm feeling properly happy, for no reason, and without someones help, for the first time in ages.

I know some people don't approve of drugs, and using them to get better. I decided to trust my doctor and I don't regret it. Cause if I'm to be completely honest I would have to say that drugged enthusiasm is a whole lot better than being sober and numb all the time.

Life is looking a whole lot brighter than it used to.

Bedrooms

I moved into my new apartment the other day. My house mate helped me get my stuff together, and set my room up. I had to make my bed, and put up my posters, and tidy away my clothes. And eventually the room looked like my bedroom.

I have three bedrooms. One at my dads, one at my mums, and one in my own place. They all look kind of alike, and that's on purpose.

I need to have somewhere that familiar and comforting. How can I have that if I have to move around all the time? I make do with having rooms that are all very similar. And it works for me. It move in and I know exactly how to make myself feel comfortable. I know how to make the place my own.

It's a working system.

On the subject of bananas

I have been craving bananas for weeks now. I want a banana. All I can think about sometimes is how much I really, really want to eat a banana.

I have no idea where this madness has come from, or why for that matter.

Just bananas, man. Bananas.

The other day I went grocery shopping with my stepdad, and I fully intended on ending this madness by buying bananas, eating them, and then going back to normal. And then I made a horrific discovery, which quite honestly, I should have seen coming.

Bananas are not grown in Europe. They are imported from quite far away.

Well fuck. This puts a stop on my plans.

I try to be good, meaning that I try to by as local as possible, and I avoid eating non seasonal foods. I am occasionally tricked by my own ignorance, but at least I try.

The bananas being sold at the market were either from the Equator, or from Costa Rica. So my conscience did not allow me to buy the bananas. So I did not get bananas.

This should not be half as upsetting as it is to me right now.

Des bananes et des pommes

My mother has been away on holidays with my little sister for about a week now, and my stepfather will soon be joining them. My dad is here though so I guess he'll be able to feed me (I'm hopeless).

But ever since my mother has been gone he has been making these fruit and veg smoothies every other night, and they are very nice. He's quite proud of them really.

First he made one with mint, apples, and cucumber, and I think that that one was my favourite.

But the other day he made one with kiwis, pears, vanilla ice cream, cucumber and something else I can't remember. Anyhow my friend Asma came to visit so we offered her some. She tasted it and exclaimed that it was Delicious perfectly obvious that it was made out of apples and bananas.

It took a lot of convincing on my part to assure her that there were absolutely no such fruit in that particularly smoothie. We agreed that she would never win any games based on guessing the ingredients in a dish or drink.

It was quite funny though. I'm not sure why she was so sure, but I have a feeling that she may have been tricked by the vanilla ice cream.

Who knows?

Eine kurze Nachricht

My mother is leaving for Ireland tomorrow with my sister. I'm going to miss them, and I'm a little sad that I'm not going too. But instead I think I might be going to Switzerland to hang out with my cousin. That is, of course, if she actually answers my messages.

Oh and I also finished translating that thing for my stepdad. Hallelujah.

Reunion

So today I had planned on going to see one of my best friends with another bestie of mine. It had been planned since the very beginning of the week.

And then something miraculous happened.

Not only did our plans not get cancelled (which to be honest is something that does happen relatively often), but two of my other besties joined the fun!

It was the first time in years that the five of us had all been in the same place at the same time. We made pancakes.

We also acted like the silly little things we are. We played with kids toys, and messed around... We gossipped too, about pretty unimportant things. It was fun.

We also did a few psychological tests just for the giggles. Cause that's totally what everyone does for fun theses days.

All in all it was a lovely fun filled afternoon. I hope we don't have to wait another two years until all five of us are in the same room together again. That would suck.

Blood test

I had a blood test today, because my doctor wants to see if I have anything wrong with me. It's funny cause I'm almost wishing that there is, cause then he can just fix it and poof, I'll be all better.

I'm probably fine though. I always am. I mean I've never had a blood test that didn't end up with completely perfectly normal results.

I just hope I don't have an iron deficiency cause I had a fellow vegetarian friend who had that, and she's not a vegetarian anymore cause her doctor basically told her "eat meat of die". That would really suck.

I didn't faint when they were taking the blood either, and usually I feel really bad so that was kind of cool. I seemed like less of a wimp than I usually do.

Marissa's driving

My friend Marissa had a driving lesson today and I went with her. She's learning with a new instructor because her previous one was a witch (I can confirm this because she also "taught" me and managed to put me off driving forever).

Anyways this new instructor lets her bring a friend during the lesson for moral support. This was the first time I had come with her because usually it's her best friend that goes with her.

She did quite well, at least I think she did. She was certainly doing better  than before, where she could hardly get into the front seat without being on the verge of a panic attack.

If I ever try to learn how to drive again I'll do it with her new instructor. She seems much nicer.

Never forget

I was remembering something really sad today. Something really quite awful.

You see I live in a region of France that was extremely affected by the second world war. Like it wasn't just occupied, it was actually taken over and made part of Germany. Young men were forced to join the German army or watch as their whole families were sent off to prison camps. The "Malgré Nous" they were called.

And so when I was fifteen years old my school decided that some of the older classes should go to see Stutthof, because we were all studying the war, and because we lived so close. Stutthof is a concentration camp.

It was the most horrible place I've ever been to. And the worst thing is that you don't realise it at first. You don't realise that you are standing in a place were so many people have died. It seemed like a regular school outing.

I think we all realised it wasn't at different points. I think we all realised where we actually were at different places in the camp. Different triggers for everyone.

The full horrible nature of what I was seeing became clear to me when I saw the Gallows at the top of the camp. They had placed it there so that the random person they decided to hang on the morning of every day would be seen by all the prisoners.

For others it was the crematorium, or the little 2m square rooms that would be crammed full with twenty people, or the room where the experiments took place. I think most people understood when they saw the pictures in the museum though.

I'm not sure why I thought about this today, or why I'm even talking about it. Maybe because we all need to remember every now again, to remind ourselves that those horrible things really happened, and not far away either. No. They happened here.

Never forget.

Doctors appointment

I have to go to the doctors tomorrow afternoon and I really don't want to. Although that's hardly surprising, after all hardly anyone wants to go, seeing as if you do have to go it means you're sick, and who wants to be sick?

Bleh.

It's not exactly an exciting prospect is it? Having to wait an hour and a half (if I'm lucky) in the waiting room surrounded by other sick people.

Positively joyful.

Oh well. I suppose I'll finish my book in the waiting room, maybe listen to some music. I wonder if i should just bring my laptop and watch a film.

In any case I have no choice, I have to go. Really I should have gone today, but I am a very talented procrastinator.

Sidenote n° deux

My brother, Liam, came sixth in the junior world championships of canoeing.

My brother is a boss, and I am so incredibly proud of him. He's so cool. Damn it. As if my self esteem wasn't already low enough I have to have a talented brother. I love you man.

You go little bro. Four for you.

In case of a zombie apocalypse

So I've been reading and watching the Walking Dead, and I like it. It's really quite unbelievably depressing, but it's also pretty cool.

The people also seem to really dense at some moments though. I mean come on guys, it' a zombie apocalypse. Don't just put your guard down before checking if there are any zombies in the area that might, you know, want to eat your brains.

Seriously though dudes. Pull yourselves together.

I keep thinking that in the unlikely event that I actually survive the first wave of such an apocalypse, I try and find myself a small island with no dead people on it and live there. Fish to eat, camp out, etc.

Zombies can't swim right?

Elephants don't need shoes

The other day my mum, my sister and I had our lunch outside in a small park in Germany. It was nothing fancy. Just some sandwich's. Caitlin actually had icecream. It must be nice being a child. Sometimes at least.

Next to us was a small enclosure and inside there were lots of little plastic chairs shaped like little elephants. There were pink ones, and blue ones, and green...

Very cute.

Caitlin wanted to go play with them, so she did, along side another little girl, who left shortly after Caitlin got there. Intimidated by her maybe. God knows Caitlin is a loud thing.

But a little while after I saw that little girl again, and she was being giving out to by her mother. She had lost her shoes and her mother was not happy. I can understand. I mean I know I'd be mad if I was tired out by looking after my kid, and all I wanted to do was go home, but couldn't cause my kid had lost her shoes. Of all the things to lose.

Turns out she'd left her shoes under one of the little elephant chairs. She had to climb over the enclosure to get them again while her mother watched exasperated.

I'm not sure why I just told this story. I guess I just thought it was cute.

Cakes and coffee

I went to Starbucks for lunch yesterday with a good friend of mine. It was pretty cool. I had to take the bus into town and then I actually had to find the Starbucks without somehow managing to get lost.

I think she was a little worried about that to be honest. She knows that my skills at losing myself in places I'm not supposed to be able to get lost in are relatively good. She was sending me messages the night and the morning before I took the bus, making sure I knew where to go.

Kind of nice really though, that she was worried. It shows that she cares.

In any case I didn't get lost.

I found the place and I found my friend, and we had cookies. It was nice it really was. We didn't stay for very long though. She had to go back to work.

Still it was nice to get out, just to have some cakes and coffee.

Lost in translation

I've been translating an interview from French to English for my Stepfather. He wrote it you see, and I'm not entirely sure why, but it's important that he have an English version.

Hence my frantic translating.

I'm not a translator. Translating is hard! I mean, yes I am fluent in both English and French, but that doesn't mean that it's easy to go from one to the other just like that!

It's bad enough having to figure out what the equivalent expressions are, without having to worry about not losing the actual sense of the original sentence.

Jeez man. Damn it.

Not that I'm not pleased to help out. I am. I mean I like my Stepdad, and I'm really pleased that he trusts me enough to do this. It's just that he's a little impatient. He wants it done fast, which I totally get. But I can't go very fast cause it's hard, and I can only do a little at a time or else my brain melts and I get it all wrong. Which would be bad.

Yeah. I really don't want to mess up.

And so I do a little every day, and slowly (far too slowly for my poor Stepdad) but surely I am getting there. I'm about halfway done now, which pleases me immensely.

Also I'm just going to end this by adding that the subject of the actual interview is really weird. Like actually really fucking weird.

My sisters tonsils

My sister got her tonsils out the other day. Poor thing.

She was very brave though. My mother says that she didn't complain at all when she was taken into the operating theatre, and instead of being shy with all the unknown doctors and nurses she just chatted away, like the chatterbox she is.

The operation was a quick one too. She went in at eight o'clock, and she was out at eight thirty.

I went to see her at the hospital the afternoon after the operation. She was still a little drugged, so she was really quiet and sluggish, and she didn't really seem to notice or comprehend what was happening around her. It was so strange, because I'm used to never being able to get a word in when she's in the room.

She came home the next day, and the poor thing is sore. She doesn't want to eat or drink very much because it hurts her throat.

She's getting a fair amount of ice cream though, so I guess it's not all bad.

Still I'll be glad once she'd properly better again. I miss my hyperactive, chatty, bratty little sister. She's grown on me.

Dolphins

I love dolphins. I've always loved dolphins, ever since I was really young. My teddy that I've had pretty much since I was born, and who I still sleep with today, is a dolphin.

I've been thinking about dolphins a lot lately. It's quite funny really. It's such a strange thing to be thinking deep sad thoughts about.

Dolphins man. Dolphins.

Did you know that the dolphin that played Flipper in that TV show killed herself? I think her actual name was Cathy, and she committed suicide because she didn't want to live in that concrete swimming pool by herself anymore. Isn't that just the saddest thing you've ever heard?

A beautiful, magnificent, fantastic, absolutely marvellous creature being so unhappy. A free soul locked up in a concrete water filled cage for our viewing pleasure.

It makes me feel sick. I hate it. I really do. Dolphins are supposed to be wild, and free, and happy, and beautiful. They're supposed to have the whole ocean to play and swim in. They are NOT meant to be in swimming pools jumping through hoops to the loud obnoxious yelling of humanity.

I was on facebook the other day and I saw a picture of a girl I had gone to school with, and who is actually in Florida for an internship. She was petting a dolphin. She was petting it, as if it were some pet. And I'll bet that she has no idea, or maybe she just doesn't care, about the fact that that beautiful dolphin would be so much happier free.

There's nothing more amazing to see than a wild dolphin. I should know I've seen one. I was very young. Maybe six, or seven and I couldn't swim without floaters. There was a wild lonely dolphin who lived along the coast. We don't know why she lived alone. But from time to time she'd come into the bay and play. And so we'd play in the water too, but we were always very careful to leave her alone. She came to us not the other way around, and my father was very blunt when he told us that she was to be left alone. "She is wild, she's not tame, she's not a toy, if you hurt her she will hurt you. Don't try and grab her, or touch her. Just watch, and swim a little distance away"

It was one of the  most wonderful things I ever did, and I never even came that close to her. A real, wild dolphin.

I saw a whole group once too. Swimming into the sunset. It looked like a painting, a painting of a perfect moment.

Dolphins are beautiful and they should be free. And the fact that some of them aren't makes me sad.

My motorcycle friend

A friend that I hadn't seen in over a year came over to see me today. The last time I had seen her must have been the same time last year after our exams.

She can over late afternoon on her motorcycle (it's huge as I repeatedly tell her) and we talked, and we made a chocolate cake, and we ate pizza. It was nice. I had missed her, and all the while I had been waiting for her to turn up I had been feeling all excited and happy that I would soon be seeing her again.

She's been out of the country you see, she's been studying in England. She tells me that she's rally enjoying it there so I'm absolutely delighted for her. I'm glad she's happy there.

I'm also very glad she came today. I've been feeling very lonely these past few days, so her company was very much appreciated. Especially since she is very good at making me laugh.

Cartoons

It's not a proper lazy day without cartoons. I've been watching cartoons in my pyjamas all day and the only thing missing is icecream or popcorn, but seeing as I still feel a bit ill, it's just as well I don't have any.

There's a particular joy in cartoons that you don't find on more "grown up" TV. The older you get the more serious you are supposed to be, and the more serious the things you watch are supposed to be as well.

Cartoons are fun, and happy (mostly. Obviously I'm talking about kid's cartoons here). There's nothing better to make you feel less heavy and a little more carefree.

So yeah. I don't regret today. I think I needed today.

Pyjama day

I have decided that I am not getting dressed today, instead I am going to stay in my pyjamas and in my bed watching movies. Preferably cartoons.

This was not my original plan, but what can I say? Life doesn't follow a plan it seems.

I was meant to go hang out with two friends today. We were supposed to go eat out, and then go swimming, only it's raining, and one of my two friends is sick. So our plans have been postponed until next week.

I'm not going to tell my mother. She's gone this weekend you see, along with my stepfather and my little sister. My brother and dad have gone for a week. They're in Augsburg for a race.

So I'm all by myself, alone in the house. I had told my mother that I was going to hang out with friends today, and that I was going to the cinema with a third friend tomorrow. She was glad because she doesn't want me to be too much by myself these days. Something about needing someone to make sure I'm looking after myself properly.

So I'm not going to tell her about today. I don't want to worry her. I do hope I get to go to the cinema tomorrow though. It would be nice to get out a bit.

In any case today is a pyjama day unless a surprise something happens, which, lets be honest here, is highly unlikely. Surprise somethings rarely happen to me.

Nausea

I've not been feeling well these past few days. And by "not well" I mean that I've been feeling physically ill, not sad or whatever the hell I'm usually like.

I've been feeling nauseous, just enough to be uncomfortable, but not enough to properly qualify as ill. It's been especially bad whenever I try to sleep.

So yeah. That's not been fun.

What's making it worse is that I don't want to complain in case anyone thinks I'm being paranoid, or hypochondriac. And they would think that too.

I don't know. Maybe I am being a bit of a hypochondriac. Maybe I'm perfectly ok and it's all in my head. Then again maybe not.

I guess I'll have to wait and see.

A sidenote

I'm watching Sherlock Holmes (the one with Robert Downey Jr) and there's this one scene where Sherlock starts talking in french to this guy that I assume we're meant to believe to be french, hence the choice of language. Only the supposedly french man has a terrible accent and is clearly not french at all. Therefore my question is the following : why on earth are they speaking french?

Bedtime

For a while now my favourite part of the day has been the part where I climb into my bed to go to sleep, and my least favourite part is when I have to wake up, and get up.

All in all my bed has pretty much become my favourite place.

I'm pretty certain this is not a good thing. I mean I am aware of the fact that my mother is already getting increasingly worried about my lack of social life, and she is not alone is thinking maybe professional help could do be good.

Not that I'm against the idea of professional help. There's nothing wrong with it, it's just that it's never nice to realise that your family thinks that there might be a screw loose in your head.

That being said I don't think anyone who knows me would really be surprised. Or rather they would be surprised only that it took me so long to realise that not all was entirely normal in my way of avoiding interacting with large amounts of people. Or people in general really.

So I do spend a lot of my time alone, in my bedroom, on my bed reading or surfing the Internet (or more honestly looking up funny pictures of cats on Tumblr).

I love my bed. I feel safe and warm there, like no one can hurt me. A classic reaction to the big bad world really. After all, all children know that if they hid under the covers of their beds the monsters can't get them.

Running

I went running with a friend today, which is not something that I usually do to be perfectly honest.

I don't like running, or any other kind of sportsy thing where I actually make an effort to keep moving. Sports is not, and has never been fun for me. I hated sports at school, and I was always the last to be picked whenever we needed to be split into teams.

As you can imagine that did wonders for my self esteem.

In any case I always did my best to not do any sports ever. Not easy seeing as my dad is in fact a sports trainer. Yeah, he used to train me.

That was not enjoyable. Not because he was mean or anything, but because I felt like I could never really tell him how little I was enjoying the sport for fear of offending him, or making him sad.

I eventually managed to pluck up the courage to tell him I was quiting. But it did take me three years.

I really don't like sports. Correction : I don't like being the person doing the sport. I enjoy watching sports. Especially the Olympics, that is the best.

So you can imagine my surprise when I found myself running this afternoon with my friend.

It wasn't that bad, and in all honestly I think it would probably be good if I did this regularly. I just can't be bothered, you know?

But maybe she'll make me come with her again. We are, after all, going to be living together next year.

The doctor (not the alien)

I went to the doctors today and one of my best friends came with me to keep me company. We waited about an hour in the waiting room (which isn't that bad really when you think about it) for about then minutes actually talking to him.

Typical.

In any case he was nice. He was new and I'd never been to see him before so I was fairly anxious. Which is funny because that's why I went to him in the first place.

Anyways, he asked me the usual questions to see how I was, etc etc. And at one point he asked me if I had a boyfriend or a girlfriend. I didn't really notice but my friend tells me that he didn't' even hesitate and like I said I didn't even notice it sounded so normal coming from his mouth.

This made my friend and I very happy. The fact that had I had a boyfriend or a girlfriend it made no difference to him, and it was all totally normal and unimportant.

It's all good I think. Or we're getting there in any case. Slowly to be sure, but we're still getting there.

Intense writers block

Why have I not written anything for this blog for over two weeks?
Why haven't I written anything for the fun of it in over a month?
Why amn't I writing anything at all anymore?

I'm not entirely sure. I don't have any motivation I guess. No inspiration, no ideas. No desire to write either. I haven't even been reading really. I've been listening to audio-books instead. It demands less effort.

Maybe this lack of creativity has nothing to do with writers block and everything to do with pure laziness. Or maybe I'm just depressed.

I think I might be a little depressed.

After all what have I been doing these past few weeks? Apart from sleeping (a lot), and watching TV? I've done a little babysitting, but only a little. And that's it. I haven't even been visiting my friends. They haven't been visiting me either. I don't think this is a good sign for the future.

Maybe I should go and see a doctor. Although that would demand a certain amount of effort. Get up. Walk to his office. Wait for hours in the waiting room. Try and explain what's wrong.

Bah. I should just buy some kittens instead.

Still alive

So I haven't written anything in a while... oops.

In my own defence I've had nothing to say. In any case I had less to say then the little I usually have to say which is saying something really.

I've been bored, and I've been depressed. I still am really. I just have a little more motivation today then I had yesterday, the day before, the day before that, etc.

I still have nothing to say though. Huh. How dull I'm being.

Anyhow I'm still alive in case anyone was wondering.

Anxious for intelligence

I'm feeling more and more anxious and scared these days because at the end of the week I get my results for my exams. My entire year depends on the mark I receive in these exams.

Naturally I'm freaking out just a little bit. Just a lot.

It's getting to the point where if I think about it too much I start feeling nauseous. I actually feel physically ill. That's just joyful isn't it?

But it's terrible don't you think? The way that school and classes, and marks can have such an effect on people. As if marks are all that is important in life.

Marks do not in any way show a persons intelligence. An unsmart person can also test extremely well. This person is treated like an intelligent human being even though in reality this person is not really all that bright.
And in the same why a very smart person can not test well at all, and is then considered as an idiot even though they are not.

I just think it's sad how we base all our criteria for intelligence on marks.

Or maybe I just don't want to be considered as a stupid person even if I do fail. God I hope I don't fail.

Scary stories

A little while back I talked about sad stories because I'd just finished a series that I had found terribly sad and quite tragic. Well now I'm watching a series that is sad but instead of tragic it's terrifying.

Holy shit man. Holy shit.

Why the actual fuck do people make shows like this, and why, for the love of God why, why do we watch them?

I finished an episode of this terrifying show not five minutes ago and the first thing I did was check under my bed to see if there was a monster hiding there. I'm nineteen years old, I should not be looking for monsters under my bed. Seriously man. Fuck.

I'm scared enough of the world as it is, and frankly to be very honest the world is a scary place. It doesn't need help. It doesn't need extra monsters to make things interesting.

And yet, who doesn't love a good horror story?

We are fucked up creatures. It's the only logical explanation I can think of for this kind of behaviour. I mean I love this show. I think it's brilliant and I'll watch the new episode that comes out next week.

But because of this show I'm not entirely sure how I'm going to sleep tonight. And I'll probably have the exact same problem next week. So why do I even like this show? Why do I insist on watching it? Why?

I don't have one blessed clue.

Friendship

Friendship comes in many different shapes and sizes.

I have friends that I only seem to be friends with if I keep in regular contact with them, and speak or see them every day.

I have friends that I've known my whole life, and friends that I've only known for a few years or even months.

Some friends I talk to everyday but trust only moderately. Other friends I only talk to every now and again and yet they know everything about me.

I have many friends that I only see once or twice a year, and to whom I only speak to occasionally. And yet many of these friends are the friends I'm the most fond of. In fact one of these very friends is my best friend and obviously I love her to pieces.

Friends come in so many different colours and shapes I can't even begin to describe it. I have friends that I can talk to when I'm sad, friends to whom I can talk complete and utter nonsense with, friends who will tell me when I'm being an idiot...

Friendship is the most important thing in the world. I don't know what I'd do without mine. I guess I'd probably be insane.

Friendship. What a wonderful thing.

Cold rain on warm skin

I spent my entire day in my bed, reading. I haven't been doing much of anything this past week. I have no energy and no desire to make an effort.

I haven't been going outside, or putting on make-up, or eating proper regular meals, I've only been showering minimally (enough to be clean, but not enough to be properly presentable). I haven't been bothering to take proper care of myself one might say. 

I'm not sure my mother appreciates this. She doesn't think I look very nice when I do this. I feel like she doesn't understand that that's the point. 

I'm inside alone. I don't have to look nice. There's no point in making any efforts.

I hadn't realised how much I'd missed it. How much I had missed being able to not give one damn about how I look. To be able to go out for a walk with no make-up, unbrushed hair, unflattering clothes, in the rain and looking like a drowned rat.

We care too much these days. I hadn't realised how afflicted with this concern for looks I had become. I wouldn't go out without doing something with my hair, or spreading cosmetics over my face. For fear of not being presentable.

Not being presentable to who? I don't think anyone knows the answer to that.

People will always prod at other people. And so we all suffer the influence of the prodding. But every now and again it's nice to ignore what everyone thinks. To walk outside in the rain and look like shit.

It's funny how looking like shit can feel so much better and far more liberating than looking perfectly presentable and nice.

I think that we all need to remember that sometimes.

No future

No future. Wasn't that what the punks would say back in the 70s? No future, two words that sum up a complete and utter hopelessness about what life still has to offer.

No future. I've been thinking about that a lot these past few days. I only put those two words on what I was feeling today, but I've been feeling that way since Friday.

Heavy. Heavy and blank. Heavy, blank and tired, oh so very tired.

I get my results on the 7th of June. I was finally able to give the date of my doom to my mother. She'd been asking for that date for weeks. I wonder if she's noticed or not. Has she seen how listless I've been these past few days.

Probably not. She's pretty occupied with herself and her immediate family bless her. Her immediate family being her husband and baby daughter. Not that she doesn't consider me as family. I'm just not quite so immediate anymore.

She thinks I have a future. She thinks that one day not so far away it'll all click into place. I'll find a man. Graduate. Get a job. Get married. Have kids. A normal boring life just like everyone else.

That's not a future. That's doom. That's a boring listless existence right there in front of me according to my mother. That's whats expected for me. That's what's expected of me.

I don't want it. Leave me be.

And it will leave me be. Because I'll never find a man, I don't trust them. I'll graduate but it will mean nothing. I'll get a job just to survive. I'll never marry because marriage is dead. I'll never have children because I dislike them. I will stay alone, safe.

No future for me.

Influence

This evening my mother tried to give me a lecture about certain people in my life trying to influence me into doing things that I don't want to do. Or telling me things that aren't true. Generally speaking the message was "don't listen to what these people say to you or do what they tell you to do."

I feel like I might be passing off as a little stupider than I might like.

I did what I usually do when someone starts saying things to me that I don't really appreciate. That is to say that I said nothing and remained quiet. I don't like conflict, I don't see the point. I'll keep my opinions to myself as I usually do.

Some of my friends might laugh reading this. I don't keep my opinions to myself with them in a lot of cases. But generally speaking I do have a tendency of keeping my mouth shut.

Funny though. Because although I love my mother this does need to be said. The person who tries to influence me the most is her. Seriously. And to avoid letting someone else influence me, she tried to influence me to stop trusting them.

What?

Seriously though I'm not quite as dumb as I look or sound. I have convictions and I have beliefs that people have tried to pry away from me. Tried being the important word here.

I may not know what I want, or why, or when, or where. But I do most certainly know what I am willing or not willing to do ever in any possible scenario.

So yes mum, a lot of people may try to influence me. But they're not always who you'd expect. And I am a little upset that you'd try and make me believe that I'm not capable of deciding myself who I can and can't trust in this world.

Sick and feeling like shit

I'm sick. It hit me yesterday evening at eight o'clock. I started shivering, so I got into bed with and extra heavy blanket. And despite it being may and being covered in bed covers made for deep winter I was still freezing.

Brilliant.

To add to my pain, I also had a headache and felt dizzy. A little later on in the evening I got a sore throat. So I spent half the night awake shivering and weak.

Then at around three in the morning my body decided it was bored being cold. Time to feel far too hot instead, and sweat buckets!

I didn't sleep at all in any case. Which is extremely practical seeing as I had my very last exam this morning.

Yeah that was fun. Getting up, feeling dizzy, aching all over and wondering if I'm going to throw up is exactly how I wanted to feel right before an exam in international relations that I didn't feel prepared for at all.

Good times.

And now I'm going back to bed. And I'm not going to move until this sudden illness decides it's had its fun with me and leaves me alone.

Flash post

My final exam of the semester is tomorrow. I'm not overly confident but that's hardly news. I hardly finished writing up my notes an hour ago.

Also once that's done I have to move my stuff over to my new apartment, without actually settling in because my room is still occupied.

And then there's the fact that I have almost nothing to eat in my current place of residence seeing as I don't want to have to throw out any food.

And as for my summer job, I have no idea what's going on because everyone keeps giving me different information.

It never rains but it pours.

Secrets

Everyone has secrets. Everyone. No exceptions.

I don't tell everyone everything. There are some people that I trust more than others, and so those people are aware of more of my secrets. But those people are few. And even then they don't know every detail of everything.

And that's normal I think. Everyone feels the need to keep certain things to themselves. Sometimes it's for fear of judgement, or because they feel like their secret could be used as a weapon against them. Sometimes it's not even on purpose. You just didn't feel the need to tell this person this thing.

There are certain things that I don't tell my parents, or my friends. There's a lot of stuff that I don't talk about here too.

It's almost funny really. My mother for instance always assures me that all she wants is my happiness, so in theory I could tell her anything. And yet there are things I keep from her because I know that she would try to convince me that my choices or feelings or even beliefs are wrong. It's the same with my dad.

I keep these things to myself. One day I may tell them. But only when I know that I will be able to defend myself against them. Or when their opinions won't matter to me anymore. Whichever comes first.

Insomnia

Have you ever just not been able to sleep? At all? No matter what you try? Well that happened to me the night before last, and the night before that.

It's the worst, it really is. Because you're so tired, and all you want to do is close your eyes and drift off. But you don't. You just end up waiting and waiting and waiting.

It's so boring.

I don't know why I couldn't sleep the first night. But I dealt with the boredom easily by reading a book. Simple solution really. I mean I was at home in my own room, I was hardly in the way right?

But the second night. Oh boy.

Firstly I was still exhausted because of my first night of insomnia. This made me assume that I would fall asleep quickly. But you see that night I wasn't at home, but I was staying over at my my aunt and uncles and I was sharing a room with my younger cousin and my four and a half year old sister.

Sleeping with my cousin? Easy. Done before and there is no problem. But sleeping with my sister? Dear Lord.

My little sister snores like an adult man. Not kidding. Try sleeping on an air  mattress listening to that!

I ended up escaping into the living room to sleep on the couch. But even then I couldn't sleep. I didn't bring my blanket with me you see, and I didn't want to go back up and risk waking everyone up. And I couldn't find a light switch so it was pitch dark.

No book. No music. No Internet. Absolutely nothing for me to do at all. So I just waited for the night to pass. Slowly. Oh so very slowly...

Insomnia. It's the worst.

Velvet, the obese cat

Velvet is my cat and he's my baby. I love him so much, and I am clearly on my way to becoming a crazy cat lady. To my eyes he is perfect, and I will not hear a word against him.

That being said...

We took Velvet to the vet about a week or so ago. Two weeks? I don't know. I'm not very good at evaluating the passage of time. Anyways we took him to the vets because he wasn't very clean (especially around his back legs... you get the picture), and he had lots and lots of knots in his fur. So the vet shaved off the knots, and cleaned up his backside. Other then that all went well.

So the vet hands him back to me and that's when she said those fatal words.

"Your cat is obese and he can't clean himself properly, not because he is lazy, but because he is literally, physically incapable of reaching his back legs. So you're going to have to do it for him".

My cat is obese. My cat is obese.

My cat is obese, and so now I have to wipe up his bum every day. The vet even gave me special soap to clean him up properly.

He's lucky that I love him so very very very much.

New music

Isn't discovering new music the best thing? And I don't mean music that's actually new, but music that you've only just heard for the first time, music that you think is completely brilliant, and it's all completely new to your ears.

I love that. It's just so fresh after listening to music you've had for ages on repeat.

I downloaded a new album a few days ago, and I've been listening to it non-stop ever since. I had to put in on my phone instead of on my ipod because my itunes library is on another computer. Still my phone is good too, and as long as I can listen to my music I don't care where I listen to it.

I find it's the little things that make you happy in life. The little things like discovering new music to enjoy.

Babies

My youngest auntie had a baby boy on the first of may, three days ago. His name is Gearoid (pronounced Gah-road) and from the look of the pictures I've seen of him he's a lovely little baby.

I'm glad. His parents are great fun, and they're wonderful people. They deserve a lovely baby.

I remember when my aunt told me she was pregnant. She was really happy and excited, but she a little nervous telling me. I think it's cause everyone in my family knows I'm not overly fond of kids, and she was the last member in our family who didn't have any. She was worried I would be disappointed. Silly really. I love her, so of course I'll love her baby. I love him already, and I've never even seen him.

And I'm sure that when I croon over the lovely darling, everyone will laugh about how I might change my mind yet. "You sure you don't want any kids?" they will ask me. I know they'll do this cause they did the very same thing when my mum had my sister, and when my uncle had his two boys.

The answer is no. No, no, no. No children. Thank you very much.

I'm not sure why I'm so against the idea of kids. Maybe it's cause I find them irritating when I spend too much time with them. Maybe it's the idea of having to take care of sometime financially for over 18 years.

But I think it probably  has more to do with myself then with the actual kids.

I had a dream I had a little girl not so long ago. I woke up crying because in the dream I had realised that she was going to grow up, and I was going to lose all control of how to protect her. You can't protect a kid from everything. No matter what you do at some point something will happen, and that child will experience pain.

The world's a rabid animal, and it likes to bite.

I've had enough pain, and I don't want to inflict on anyone. And when I think to myself how good I've got it compared to others it just makes me think how awful it all is.

So no kids. They're annoying, and a pain, and a responsibility that I don't want. I don't want kids, and I don't want marriage. But that's a story for an other day.

Sad stories

You'd think we'd always avoid them wouldn't you? I mean where's the joy in watching or reading something sad, something that makes you cry?

And yet we all watch those movies or read those books.

Some of my very favourite stories are sad. And even now when I'm thinking about it I can't figure out why. I cry every time I watch Neverland, or read the Deathly Hallows, yet I read and watch them again and again.

It's strange don't you think? Is it human nature? Are we looking for an outlet, something that we're aloud to be sad about? Or are we just plain masochists enjoying the emotional pain?

I have no answers to any of these questions.

I watched a sad movie today. Well sad. More bittersweet. And I knew it was going to end the way it was, and I knew I was going to feel sad. But I watched it anyway.

We're funny creatures, humans.

Panic mode

Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, ohdearohdearohdear.

Not panicking. I'm not panicking. Ok so maybe I'm panicking just a little. But frankly you can hardly blame me.

I mean I come back to Strasbourg for my exams tomorrow, the day after and Thursday, so I'm stressed out as it is. I did not need to come home to find a letter from the people who own my current place demanding information so that I can move out.

I literally have no idea what to tell them. I don't know what I'm doing, I hardly know what's going on in the first place!

Do. Not. Panic.

I called my dad because I figured he could help me out a little, but what do you know! He's not home, he's working and he's not home until late.

Don't panic.

To make things even better I haven't finished studying for my exam tomorrow, let alone for my other exams this week.

DO NOT PANIC.

I am so not ready for adult life. Days like this I think I never should have left home in the first place. Honestly what was I thinking?

Loneliness

Sometimes I get hit by this crippling wave of loneliness, and it can come out of nowhere.

I mean a lot of the time I'm fine on my own, I enjoy the quiet and I like not having to constantly interact with people. But sometimes I get lonely even when I'm surrounded by people.

Oddly enough the moments where I feel the loneliest are never the moments when I'm actually alone.

My dad made a joke today, and it was obviously a joke and I laughed because I thought it was funny. You see my dad and stepmother bought a new couch months ago, and to make place for it they put the old one in my bedroom. It's no big deal because there's room in my room and I've hardly ever slept there since I went to university. And they've been telling me for weeks now that they're going to get rid of it real soon, but they never do. And so today my dad looked at me and said "Don't worry Chloe, we'll only start to officially kick you out when you're twenty. So you've got another year before we turn your bedroom into a guestroom".

And we laughed. Because it was a joke and it was funny. No big deal.

But then I got home to my mums, and I told her because I tell my mum most of what happens to me. And she told me not to worry because they'd only empty out my room if they moved and by then I would have my own "proper place" at least according to mum.

And it hit me. The fact that one day I was going to live alone in my own proper place, and I wouldn't come home on the weekends, and I would have no bedroom to go back to.

I felt so lonely. I feel so lonely. And I'm scared, because I think that once that happens, once I'm really out of their hair and I have my own "proper place", well I think I really will be alone.

I don't want to be alone.

Exams

Exams, exams, exams... I remember the days when I had no exams, when exams were far far away in the distant future, and I didn't really believe I would ever really have to pass them.

Well those days are gone. Long gone. Fuck man.

I had my first two exams of my second semester this week. One one Monday, and the other on Wednesday. My next exam is on Monday, then I have one on Tuesday, then on Thursday. Then I have to wait two weeks for my last exam on the 16th of may. Cause that makes sense.

The inner functioning of my schools bureaucracy will remain a mystery to me.

Seriously though I think I may have fried my brain, and now studying has actually become painful. And I think that I may be going crazy. Reassuring.

I'm also quite depressed because there is a strong possibility that I'm going to fail, which would mean that all my work would have been for nothing. And that ladies and gentlemen, would suck.

So that's whats been going on in my tiny little brain. Here's to hoping I actually get some proper work done tomorrow. One can only hope.

The future

In my mind there's nothing scarier than not knowing what's going to happen next. That's something that gives me butterflies in my stomach, and makes me feel sick.

I hate not knowing. It's the worst. I hate not knowing how someone is going to react to something I say, I hate not knowing the people I'm surrounded by, and well you can guess the rest.

I get scared when I don't know exactly how something is going to happen. It makes my insides twist up in fear. So you can imagine what imagining the future must be like for me.

It's horrible. I avoid doing it like the plague.

I actually can't visualise my future self at all. It's like a huge dark void in front of me and I hate it so much, because it scares me so much, and I'm getting really tired of being scared.

I'm scared of a lot of things. It does get exhausting sometimes.

Re : explicit short story

Oh Cousine... j'avoue j'ai rigolé, mais seulement parce que je n'ai pas réellement tout compris. Un garçon? Une lettre? Une action impulsive?

Ça te ressemble, je suis bien obligée de te le dire!

Je t'ai transmis mon problème émotionnel? Surement pas! Du moins je ne l'espère pas. Ce serai bien moche pour toi bébé chou (puisque tu le réclame). Je trouve que toi et moi nos problèmes on se les comprends mutuellement mais vaut mieux pas en rajouter, ou bien si?

Tu est une nouille, mais tu est une chouette de nouille alors ça va. Envoyer une lettre à quelqu'un puis te retrouver chez cette personne quand elle (il?) la reçoit!

Au tout cas toi, ma jolie cousine si impulsive, tu va en avoir des histoires à raconter à tes enfants. Et puis merde alors! Tu en a des histoires à me raconter a moi tout court!

Merci au tout cas pour ta lettre toute rigolote. Ça ma remontée le moral après une journée d'études (le droit c'est un peu, beaucoup, beurk).

The vets

We (and by we I mean my mother and I) are taking my cat, Velvet, to the vets tomorrow. For multiple reasons.

Reason one : he smells. He smells really, really bad. I love my cat, God knows I adore every little bit of him, but my goodness the smell is getting unbearable.

See Velvet is a big cat. He's pretty heavy, and to add to that he's got very long fur. Basically he smells cause he's not able to clean himself properly, so tomorrow at the vets, he is going to get shaved. Sorry baby. It's for the best.

Reason two : we found a bald patch near his tail. It's about 5 or 6 cm long, and 3 cm wide. And it's scaring the shit out of me. I don't know where it came from, since when it's been here, and why it's here in the first place.

And so I'm scared to bring him to the vets tomorrow. Because last time I took a cat to the vets because something like this happened I never took her home again.

So I'm touching wood, and telling myself that really there's nothing to truly worry about. The hair is already growing back. There's nothing to be worried about. Nothing. Don't worry Clo.

Please let me be able to just walk in, get the cat shaved, and then walk out with him again. I'm not asking for much.

My brother and mother

My brother and my mother have a strange relationship. Or maybe I think it's strange because I've hardly ever had any trouble with my mother. Or with my dad.

They get on each others nerves I think. She nags him, and it kills me inside because I can see her doing it, and I can see him starting to get pissed off. And it's the same the other way around.

It's not really bad though, I mean there's no screaming and throwing of objects. It's just a little tense sometimes when mum starts talking about something that I know is a sore subject for my brother. Or the other way around. It's 50/50 between the two of them really.

She worries, I think, that maybe he doesn't take life seriously. It makes me want to laugh out loud because of course he doesn't! He's a 17 year old athlete, he's good-looking, he's popular, and he's smart! Why should he take life seriously?

Wouldn't she rather he be the way he is? When he could have ended up a scared little mouse like me? I'll take him the way he is thank you very much.

I'm not worried about him at all. I think my little (not so little) brother is going to be just fine. Better than fine, I think he's going to do great in life. He's one of those marvellously lucky people who always land on their feet. Lucky bastard.

Some people just get it all easier, and yeah it makes you want to scream when you're not one of those people. It gets me sometimes too, that life doesn't come easy. But I'm glad it does for him.

Even if he is a brat.

Study time

I have my exams in little over a week. I am not overly confident. Pretty much the opposite in fact, seeing as I'm  mentally preparing myself to the increasingly likely possibility that I will have to repeat my year.

Fucking joyful.

Anyhow I have now officially begun my studying, and today I spent about four or five hours going over my notes and writing down the really important stuff on a separate sheet of paper. I'm not entirely sure how long I actually studied because I took many "make more tea" and therefore many bathroom breaks.

I had a lot of tea today. Which means that I'm probably not going to sleep all that well this evening. Or maybe I will anyway. Who knows.

In any case I intend on doing the same thing tomorrow. I mean I might be certain that I'm going to fail my year, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to try and pass it anyway. That would be giving up, and I might not be smart or ambitious or any of that, but I can work when I put my mind to it.

And I am putting my mind to it. Right now.

So from today until Sunday after next I will dedicate my afternoons to my notes, because at least then, no matter what my results are, no one will be able to tell me that I didn't try. And that's important.

Free icecream

Some days I feel like the world is pointless, and I feel sad and worthless and useless and lonely. Some days I just want to curl up into a ball, fall asleep and cease to exist. Some days everything sucks.

Not today! Today is one one those days where everything goes right. Where everything is sunshine, puppies and kittens. And ice cream.

Ice cream. Happiness tastes like ice cream.

I got free icecream today. And not just any icecream. Oh no. It was free Ben and Jerry's icecream. Fucking yes. Just yes.. Yum.

How did I manage to get free chocolate fudge icecream? Well what happened is the following : one of my friends from school always brings some newspapers to class, and we read them during break (or during class when class is particularly slow and boring). So she was reading through her paper, and I was reading mine when she suddenly grabbed my arm and made me look and an ad on her paper.

An ad telling all that had read that newspaper that anyone who went to a Ben and Jerry's shop today would get a free icecream cone.

I don't think I've ever looked up a destination so fast in my life.

Anyway we found a B&J shop not too far from where I live so we decided to go and see. Nothing to lose right? If the ad isn't some cruel joke we get icecream, and if it is a cruel joke they just tell us to buy something or leave.

It wasn't a joke. They gave us the icecream, and I think this is the first time in ages that I've felt so giddily happy in Strasbourg (the last time being when I went to see the Hobbit).

So yeah. I got free icecream today. It was awesome.

To my Cousine chérie

Oh Cousine, je suis une courge. Je n'écris plus. Me pardonne tu?

I haven't been writing anything at all lately. I'm not entirely sure why. A mixture of intense writers block, and a mild state of depression. And I'm getting stressed out because hey! I have exams in two weeks! My last shot at validating my year! Of not having to repeat everything from scratch. I'd rather not do that. I mean if I have to then so be it.

But I'd rather not. Obviously.

I'm a huge procrastinator though, which if affecting my studying. I am however trying to push through. And whatever happens I intend to do my best. Even if my best happens to not be enough.

I'm trying to look on the bright side. I'm moving next year. I'm going to live in an apartment with a friend, instead of living on my own. I'm really looking forward to it.

I mean what's not to like? I'll be less lonely, less expensive, and it's be most likely more fun too.

So that's what's been going on in my life, my loveliest and dearest Cousine. Study, work, sleep, cakes, and I'll admit it : I've also been watching some (very good) TV shows. I love a good TV show. And a good cake. I'm actually making one right now. Cinnamon! Yum yes darling?

En bref je t'aime très fort ma Cousine, et je vais essayer d'écrire plus. Je suis juste un peu triste et fatigué ces derniers temps. Ça passera.

Spring, where art thou?

It's meant to be springtime but it's still cold. What is this.

Not cool guys. Not cool. Or rather, it's too cool (teehee).

No but seriously. I'm still wearing my winter coat, and I still can't go outside without a scarf. I also still have two blankets on top of my duvet. It's April! It's meant to be getting warmer not staying cold!

I've mentionned before that I'm not the greatest fan of snow, or the cold or anything like that. Like many people on this earth ours, I like being warm.

And right now, it is most certainly not warm outside at all.

Adventures in babysitting

I had a kid to babysit last night. And no the kid was not my sister. That might have been easier actually, and that's saying something cause as much as I love Caitlin she can be the biggest brat sometimes.

But she's my sister so I know exactly how to handle her, how to calm her down, and if the need is very great I know exactly how to make her realise just how much trouble she's in. She tends to calm herself down in that case. Scary Chloe is scary, or so I'm told.

So this kid. He's cute, he really is, but by God do you need to be full of energy. He's three years old and he's a smart one. Funny how that doesn't seem like such a great quality when you're the one being manipulated.

Manipulated. By a three year old boy. Great Chloe. Cause that's really all a girl needs to make her feel good about herself.

Although at first everything was going fine really. We played with some playdough for a little while, then we went down to his neighbour friend (a nine year old boy who liked to talk a lot about his love and talent for video game warfare), and then I gave him a bath and fed him.

All was going according to plan.

And then I tried to but him to bed. He didn't like that. At all. He really really didn't. He started howling for his mother, because he wanted her to put him to bed and not me. He finally seemed to be asking himself who this strange girl in the glasses was.

So I did what any other babysitter confronted with a screaming child would do. I called his mother. And luckily for me she was almost finished work so I didn't have to deal for very long.

I enjoy babysitting because hey! Kids are usually easy for me to handle and it's money. Money is always nice. But I really really don't ever want to have kids of my own. I don't think I could bear the thought of having to babysit a child for eighteen to (lets be honest here) maybe forty years.

Babysitting yes. Motherhood no.

An angry rant

Thank God for you Ciosa. And thank God for our uncle. Two members of our family that I hardly ever see. Truly, I mean I see you about one or twice every three years, and I haven't seen our uncle in at least six.

I feel like the two of you are the only ones in our family who care sometimes. The only ones that I can actually complain to, without having to suffer some sort of judgement.

As you can see I'm angry this evening. Even I'm not all that sure why. Although no one has noticed you know. My mum never does. Once I spent an entire evening not speaking a single word to her. Why? Because she was mistreating one of of MY books that I had lent to her. And after I asked her to please be careful she gave out to me because she was "stressed out". Sorry mum. Sorry for caring about my stuff.

I haven't lent her a book since.

I can complain to you endlessly, Ciosa, and if I'm in the wrong you just tell me, quietly, by explaining gently why. You don't give out, you don't tut and insinuate how simple minded I am. You don't make me feel subhuman and abnormal.

That's how everyone else makes me feel sometimes. Like I'm an idiot and I'm worth nothing. Sometimes I wonder if one day someone is going to come up to me and say flat out to my face "you think wrong, you act wrong, you are wrong".

And then I'm going to snap and punch that person in the face.

God bless you Ciosa anyway. And maybe send an email to our uncle. He makes me feel better, maybe he can give you some solid advice on life too.

Happy Birthday to me

It's my birthday today. I'm nineteen years old. I don't know when this happened. In my head I stopped growing up at 17. So yeah. This feels weird.

I loath birthdays. I have for a while. They just generally suck. Immensely. AT least in my experience. I also hate growing up so obviously that doesn't help all that much.

It's also not the best of birthdays cause I have an exam this evening. Happy birthday clo.

It's ok apart from that though. A friend brought me a mini cake to school, and lots of people have been wishing me happy birthday which is cool.

I also got a new thermos and a pair of earrings. And I'm going to the cinema tonight with some friends after my exam to see warm bodies.

So all is not lost.

I just can't wait for today to be over so that it can stop being my birthday.

Humanity

People have a tendency to piss me off. Well People. If you want to be even more general you could say that humanity, as a species, pisses me off immensely.

I don't know. People are crazy and weird and complicated. And I know that there is no sense to be made but still.

Mankind places itself at the centre of the universe, and walks on everything else. Mankind considers everything that is not man, or at least man made, to be inferior.

Only human suffering is taking into account. Now in no way am I saying that human suffering isn't important, and something that we should try to stop. I'm just saying that maybe we should take other creatures suffering into account as well.

Chickens are often kept cooped up practically one on top of the other. Picture a square metre space. Now fill it with about twelve chickens maybe even more. That's how they live! If those conditions are imposed on a human being a shit storm goes down (quite right too), but not for the chickens? What makes us better than them?

Honestly? Nothing at all.

Humanity treats what isn't human as if it's worth nothing. But it's worth so much. And we're losing it all slowly but surely because we are, as a species, arrogant and fairly stupid.

Some days I get real tired of humanity.

Daddy's Girl

I love my dad. I'm not sure I've ever written about him here before. I know I must have mentioned him, and I'm pretty sure I've talked about my mum (whom I love as well).

My dad is brilliant. He actually really and truly is. I don't even know I can begin to explain what he's like.

He's a hippy for one. And I don't mean that in a hipster "oh I love the 60's" kind of way. No what I mean by that is that he does what he loves, he's never cared about money (and what I mean by this is that he doesn't want money for the sake of being rich and having money), and the only materiel things that he would ever really want to keep for sure are his kayaks and surf boards.

He's a fricking dude. A surfer hippy dude.

He does a lot of kayaking, just like my brother. In fact my dad in my brothers trainer. It's all they ever do really. Pretty sure they even dream about kayaking at night.

I talked to my dad yesterday for the first time in about two weeks. Not for any bad reasons, it's just cause I live away from home and he's not real good for picking up the phone. And I'm probably not going to see him in ages either. This makes me kind of sad.

I wish we hung out more, just him and I. Cause as silly as it sounds it's better when it's just the two of us. When someone else joins the equation (anyone at all) it's just not the same.

And unfortunately people usually do join the equation. And it's not necessarily a bad thing. It's just that when we're with other people we don't really talk much, or do anything. But when its just the two of us I can tell him anything at all. And I usually do when the occasion presents itself.

Basically what I'm saying is that I'm a daddy's girl. Or I used to be. Or I sometimes am.

I miss him is really what the point is here.

Saint Patrick's day

Well I hope you all had a lovely Saint Patrick's day. I also you hope that you won't all be too hungover tomorrow because lets be honest : the majority of you got at least a little drunk.

Woo Saint Paddy's day.

I did not get drunk. I do not get drunk you see. Not even on Saint Patrick's day. I am a sober person, or as some other people would say, I'm a boring person.

Bleh.

My family thinks I'm an alien. So do many of my friends. They're not entirely sure how I can possibly be Irish (because yes, I am in fact Irish).

Whatever. I had a good day in any case, and I'm pretty sure that's the point, as opposed to just getting completely hammered for the sake of it.

Cheers.

Party Time

Its party time in the Sheridan household, and there's a lot of people just chatting away in my kitchen. There's food and booze and everyone is having a grand old time.

Why the party? Well it's my mum and stepdads annual saint Patricks party (and yes I am aware that saint Patricks day is tomorrow, not today), and on Monday it's my stepdads birthday.

Two birds. One stone.

There's a lot of people down there. I say down there cause I am currently hiding away in my bedroom with my cat and my computer. I'm such a wonderfully social human being.

I hate parties. I really do. I'm going to be 19 years old in a week and I've been to a grand total of two student parties. The first cause it was to celebrate one of my best friends birthday, and the second cause I managed to convince myself that if I socialised a little maybe I'd "get a life". That didn't really work out for me.

All the other parties that I've "been to" have been thrown by a family member. So I can do what I'm doing now, i.e hide away in my bedroom with the cat and a computer.

God bless the Internet.

I don't like parties cause I don't like being surrounded by so many people that I don't know. I don't like to drink. And I'm quite bad at small talk. Parties just make me feel generally uncomfortable.

So Saturday 16th of march, half past eight, and thirty minutes into the party. Only four or so more hours to go. Joy.

The adventures of the non adventurous

Oh dear. I haven't written anything here all week. At the same time I've not much to say and I'm tired. I'm always tired I guess. But this week just felt so heavy you know?

What happened. Adventures Chloe. Think of adventures.

Oh I know! This made me laugh. Maybe it will make you laugh too. Or maybe not, I don't know. It's all I've got for the moment.

I'm scared of Jehovah's witnesses. For multiple reasons that I won't really get into today. I'm just absolutely terrified that one day a pair will turn up on my door and tell me I'm going to hell, or something. One time a pair showed up at a friends house, and she asked them to leave but they didn't, so she tried to shut the door, and they wouldn't let her.

So yeah. I don't want that to happen to me. I'm scared enough living on my own without something like that happening.

Anyway I have this other friend who has occasionally showed up on my doorstep out of the blue. And every time she has done this I've almost had a heart attack. "Jesus I thought it was the Jehovah's witnesses" I said to her the first few times. And she laughed at me and told me I was being an idiot.

But guess what I found in my postbox the other day? A pamphlet talking about our Lord Jesus Christ. Not only a pamphlet though. Oh no. It was an invitation. From the Jehovah's Witnesses.

Cue screams of horror and terror. "I told you so, I told you they were coming for me"

Ahem.

Seriously though. To be able to get to my postbox they would have had to come onto my apartment building. which means they could have come knocking on my door. And if they did it once they could do it again.

Oh shit.

Marissa and Séline

Marissa and Séline are two of the greatest people alive on this planet. Truly they really are.

Along with Tamar, and my cousin Ciosa, they are the people who hear the most shit from me, and yet still choose to stick around to hear some more.

Somebody give these people a medal. Seriously.

I saw them both today for the first time in months. They don't go to college in the same town I do you see. Basically I moved away and they stayed put.

That was one of the worst things about moving away. It felt like I was losing so much, and gaining so little. All for the purpose of hopefully getting a huge benefit in later life. I'm holding on to that thought.

I hung out with Séline all afternoon, and we just chatted. And it was so lovely. And then we met up with Marissa who hugged me when she saw me. And this is a big deal for me, because Marissa isn't someone who hugs just anyone. Its extra special coming from her.

The movie wasn't any special, but I don't care about that cause I was with two of the greatest people on earth. And I love them so much, and I'm so glad that they are my friends.

Lets do this until we're old and decrepit my Darlings. And then lets keep doing it after.

Naptime

I have an exam next week, and I really want to do well. So I told myself that today I would study all day, and that I would read all of my notes from the beginning of the year in this particular subject (extra-patrimonial law in families if you were wondering).

And then I fell asleep. Well that went according to plan.

I did read all of my notes. It just took longer then planned, and I had an unplanned and unexpected nap in the middle of my study session. A very needed nap that was far too short.

You guessed it. I am once again in a period of pure exhaustion. That's why I haven't written anything in a while. I've been sleeping, and studying, and sleeping, and basically dying.

I haven't been doing any reading, or writing (but I'm getting there Ciosa don't worry).
I admit I have been watching episodes of my favourite series. One every evening in bed before I fall asleep.

I refuse to feel guilty for that though. Take that away and I have nothing left to enjoy.

Whatever this was just to prove that I am in fact still alive. And now I think I'll have another nap. Maybe forever.

Inadequacy

I am surrounded by talented people. People who are smart, and funny and good at some particular thing. Or at least people with ambition.

My brother is an international athlete. He's just a junior athlete for the moment but he's still competiting on an international level. No biggie.
My best friend wants to be an actress, and she's doing what she loves. I think she's good, but apparently I'm biased so you know. Whatever.
My one friend in law school knows exactly what she wants in life, and she knows how to get it. So now she's working on getting it.
One of my best friends taught herself how to speak english all by herself, and now she's doing the same with korean. Korean.
Another of my best friends is one and a half years younger than I am and she's in a more difficult course than me. And she's doing better.

Everyone I seem to surround myself with is either smart, or talented, or ambitious.

And then there's me. I'm not looking for pity here. I'm just feeling the inadequacy you know? Like what am I doing here with these people, and why are they even letting me be in their presence.

I like being with this kind of people though, because they're interesting. And I like interesting people. Interesting people are, well, more interesting for one, and they're fun most of the time. You learn with them and you can have these really cool conversations.

You're never really bored is what I'm getting at.

But the side effect of hanging out with people who are smarter, and more ambitious, and just generally more talented than you is this terrible feeling of inadequacy.

I'm not all that ambitious, and I'm not particularily smart, and I have no real talent. I don't bring all that much to group conversations you get me?

I'm the one who drinks the tea and brings the snacks. And then I eat the snacks.

Writers block

I have nothing to say. I don't know what to write about, what to talk about. Nothing seems to be happening to me and I feel like I'm being very very boring.

These past few days all I've doing is walking my dog, scrolling down tumblr, watching supernatural and making friendship bracelets based on my fandoms.

I started doing some of my homework yesterday but I got bored and went back to making bracelets.

I make bracelets like I bake : simultaneously out of boredom and out of a need to do something. And it keeps me calm. Baking and making bracelets I mean. Obviously.

Beh.

I warned you I had nothing to say.

The kettle's just boiled. I'll go drink my tea and hope that this block doesn't last too long.

To forgive or not to forgive

I've mentioned my family on multiple occasions here. What can I say, family is important whether you like it or not.

I've talked about the members that I love, and the members that I don't like all that much. I don't say any names (unless its Ciosa cause I know she reads this), cause well even though I'm writing this for the Internet to see it's still personal.

I don't forgive. This is a problem, and it's not a good character trait, in fact I think we'd all agree that it's a pretty bad one. But to balance that out it also takes a lot to get me really and properly angry.

If I get angry at you there's little chance I'll forgive you for what you did. But to get me angry to that point... well you'd need to have fucked up pretty badly.

Ciosa always seems so forgiving in my eyes, and I find that amazing. I'd like to know how she does it, how she lets go of that rage.

Cause that's what it is with me. I feel this red hot rage towards the person that has "wronged me" (as if it were really that black and white), and it never really goes away. I try to forget about it, to move on, to continue to have a relationship with this person, but that rage always comes back.

I'm not an angry person I need to make that clear. I'm only this angry with two people in this world of ours, and I have to say that I feel that the feeling is justified. But maybe that's just me.

I'm trying to let go. I'm trying to be forgiving towards these two people (pretty sure you can guess who they are Ciosa), but I can't seem to be able to do it.

It sucks.

It sucks because I feel that I am being unnecessarily hard on these two people sometimes, while at others I want everyone to dislike them as much as I do, and then I feel guilty for my own dislike. Then of course I get angry at them for making me so conflicted about my own feelings...

It's a vicious circle. Advice Ciosa?

Oh and Ciosa like I said two posts ago, just ignore me when I'm being jealous. It doesn't happen all that often. I generally ignore it and hope it goes away fast. xx

The horse meat scandal

Some days I am so glad that I don't eat meat. Like really really glad.

For two weeks now there's been this scandal in France, "le scandale de la viande de cheval", which directly translates to the horse meat scandal.

Yeah horse meat. Not kidding.

Basically all these companies have been selling meat saying that it's beef, and well I'm pretty sure you get the picture.

Horse meat. Beh.

Now if you're like my stepmother (who oddly enough is also a vegetarian although not for the reasons that I am) then you'll be wondering what all the fuss is about. You can eat horse meat, hell some people even choose to eat it. And apparently it mustn't taste that bad cause it was passing for beef there for a while.

So yeah the fact that people have been eating horse isn't the problem. It's not a health issue in any way, and frankly it's a little silly that people are willing to eat a cow but not a horse, even I'm willing to admit that.

The problem is that these companies were telling people that it was beef. And in my mind that is a huge deal. What else are they not telling us? What are we really eating? Do we actually have any control over what we decide to consume?

I think this is a issue, because I for one am very picky about what I eat. I don't eat meat, I only eat free range eggs, I don't eat chips, or drink fizzy drinks, and that is my choice. I decided to restrict what I consume. And I think that my choice should be respected, just like everyone elses choice.

So if you don't want to eat horse then you should be able to be sure that you're not eating horse. So now I guess I'm going to worry even more about what I eat. And I guess I'm not going to be the only one.