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I have the same kind of headache I had that dreadful too wet for winter day last year when I had to sing. No way I could listen to the words, or look at the photos of the father and baby, now dead, or look at the mother who survived or the other child who was too young to remember to be sad. This time the headache is here because of another survivor: my student, mother of three, who survived as the only one of her family. I think she was happy on the beach, in her slender yoga body.
Each time I touch my children, the one who's big enough to be embarrassed about me singing out loud when we're shopping, and the one who's still happy to be there singing with mother, each time the thought crosses my mind: her children are not anymore living and breathing. How can she go on living? There's this movie where the main character got to know when and how he's going to die. This made him able to live without any fear: he wouldn't die, not this time. If you lose everything, maybe that's your consolation: nothing worse can happen. Never.
When did I stop adoring my mother? I look at my daughter who constantly gives me little presents and draws hearts and writes mother mother mother everywhere. There is nothing as beautiful and wonderful and powerful than I, mother, in her eyes. I'm sure there is a part of me that still thinks my mother is perfect, too. I don't want to see her failures close and clear, I don't want to analyze her. - In the night my daughter snuggles beside me and wraps her night cold bare arms around my neck. Her world is still so very good.
She went to sleep to her own bed last night. Clean sheets and a new blanket. I went downstairs to watch the news and some other stuff. I enjoy being alone, not having to care for anyone else. At some point I heard something: she was laughing out loud upstairs. She was standing on the floor, her eyes wide open and she laughed, laughed, laughed! I took her back to her bed and stayed there for a while, her bed is big enough for both of us. And she just laughed, I started to laugh too, we both just laughed.
The snow was really good today, perfect for making snowmen, sun was shining, good. I was restless all day long, just wanted to win time before doing what I had planned to do: I would go to her house and give my condolences. I figured that she wouldn't be alone if she already was home. She wasn't. The house was bigger than I remembered and so very nice. There was a football placed in a flower pot near the door which was decorated with paper snow flings. They were very skilfully cut. On my way home somebody bumped my rear.
We had lunch at my parents' place. After the meal we looked at some pictures from 1920-1955 that my father got when his stepmother died two years ago. There was a letter from my grandmother who seven days before her death in tuberculosis was worried about some old bills. She died when my father was seven and they never talked about it. And there was a picture of my father's dead baby sister in a coffin. I guess that was a customary thing to do. I don't know why I think it's so embarrassing to cry in my parents' presence.
His friend called today. We've been talking behind his back for a few months now. It has become clear that he is a pathological lier. How sad. Now he's meeting with another friend of his, alas, we're three talking behind his back. He got fired a month ago and never told me that. We are thinking legal and illegal drugs, alcohol. He was diagnosed with depression last summer and took half a year of sickness leave from the big company he worked for. Got fired first day back, I guess. I'm not surprised. He hasn't been treating his condition. Shit.
He called me yesterday. He was very honest (oh yeah), he told me he hadn't been completely honest with me earlier, that he had lost his job a month ago and he had been so shocked he couldn't tell anyone earlier. Whatever. Anyway, it was good to talk to him and he definitely isn't suicidal as far as I can tell, and he agrees. But I'm worried about his substance abuse, unrealistic plans, bad friends, lack of friends in general, loneliness, severed ties with the family. Not good. So many warning signs. And what do I do. Nothing, absolutely nothing.
Where does it come from? My inability to finish anything, my inability to concentrate in anything. I just do a lot of stuff and I'm talented and if I want to, I can do brilliant things. But things that I really should do - how come I'm just totally useless? Is it, like my husband says, just because I'm not really responsible for anything...? Well, financially responsible is what he means, it's not that he wouldn't see how I take care of the children and everything. I just continue floating around, not finishing anything, not being a responsible adult. I'm loatheful.
I love to sleep. Going to sleep is sometimes a pain even though I usually have no problem falling asleep any time. But in general, sleeping is so much fun. Especially in the mornings. I love to set my alarm clock so that I don't have to wake up when it tries to wake me - I enjoy my morning sleep more when I at the same time can realise that it is morning and some time soon, I will have to wake up for real. A siesta is good, too. I think sleeping at any time is a luxurious pleasure.
I was pretty thin a couple of years ago. I loved it! It was wonderful to have breasts that were not D or C cup, but B!!! I felt so sexy! Well, I still feel sexy even though I'm 15 kg bigger than at that time. I guess it's because I do get a lot of positive feedback about my looks, even though I'm a bit overweight. There are at least three people who want me, sexually, seriously. One of them is my husband. But I'm more flattered about the ones who don't do it because they have to, though.
I keep thinking: what if someone I know reads this? What if my nickname, despite of it not revealing anything about my identity (no initials, no real names), STILL reveals my identity in the odd case someone I know should happen to read this? Why do I care? I think I know why. It's because I'm never honest. I never ever tell anyone my real feelings, my real thoughts. I play several roles, and I play them well. The moments when I'm perfectly open and honest to anyone (including myself) don't happen often. I remember one dawn with unexpected honesty.
There are several dawns I remember with fondness. With different people, in different times, in different places. And I guess I was different too, each time. One dawn, I was young - looking back I can see I was a bit odd and fun - and there was a lot of music, and a lot of touching, very innocent and very warm. There was a lot that I didn't understand. Another dawn, it was a city I knew from literature, he was beautiful and muscular, and he wrote diary, a very naive diary, but he was cute and he had a sixpack.
I enjoy my periods. It used to be such a hassle, especially in the night. I didn't enjoy waking up in bloodstained bed sheets. Those days are over - I've found the perfect menstrual product: The Keeper! (MoonCup and DivaCup are similar.) This re-usable cup is inserted in the vagina and there it collects the menstrual blood. You empty the cup in the toilet bin and rinse the cup before putting it back. My menstrual life changed for good when I found this alternative. Wow. I've used it for years now and still rejoice the easiness and comfort. Menstruation is fascinating.
I seldom do just one thing at a time. If I watch television, I want to do something else at the same time, otherwise I feel like I'm a loser just watching television, mindless, wasting my time. It has to be a really good program before I stop reading magazines at the same time, or preparing meals for next day, or doing something work-related. And it takes even more before I stop knitting. I think I might fall asleep if I didn't do something. I fell asleep several times in the movies today, and it wasn't even a bad movie.
It's always exciting to meet a new client. I get nervous. Even though I know everything is going to be just fine, I feel this knot in my stomach. Sometimes I have to remind myself of those many times I've survived teaching just fine with very good feedback and results. And let's face it, there was this one person I thought I couldn't teach because I got all cold and icy inside of me just thinking about her. And I eventually did have to teach her, a whole semester, and it went just fine. After that, everything's been a breeze.
I see him in this one television show character. He looks you in the eye, and even though you know how things are, you can't help but believe in him. I am his female counterpart, cool, untouchable, with as little credibility and integrity than he has, but I still feel drawn to him and feel like I'm someone special in his life. Which I'm sure I am, I know I am, and there is no doubt about it. But I hate being played with. And I feel like I'm being cheated when he holds my hand and her hand simultaneously.
It is amazing how many character traits we two share. Sometimes I can't believe we are as close as we are. We both are respected citizens, and yet our lives are not as perfect as you would think. We lie, we cheat, we are not compassionate, we play with the fire, just for the fun of it. Or maybe not. I do a lot of things out of sheer unhappiness. I once asked him what his excuse is. He couldn't answer. After all, he's life is perfect, as is mine. Right. I never thought my life would be like this.
Cheap porn looks so cheap. We have one television channel that sends cheap porn kind of programs and advertisements some nights a week. Sex tv. Ugh. Right now, I'm watching two cheap looking, bored, blushed brunettes licking someone's testicles and penis. It looks really, really cheap and disgusting. Not at all exciting. I've seen some exciting porn, too, but this isn't it. And erotic scenes in films must be either light and joyful or passionate before they move anything in me. I'm more heterosexual than homosexual, but women in movies turn me on more than men. They are more beautiful.
I went to a dance lesson today. It was my first time at that particular dance school - I had to spend 1,5 hours in the neighbourhood and I wanted to do something. What a disappointment. I had thought that since it was quite a popular school, they would have nice facilities and high-quality teaching. The room was very crowded, and the choreography wasn't that interesting. I got all sweaty though, and that's always a good thing. Bad thing was, the shower was just pitiful. When I complained about it, they said, this isn't gymnastics. Right. Thank you. Bye bye. Whatever.
Today, I wore a combination of colours I've never worn before. It was just an idea. I had like half a minute time to decide what to wear and I turned playful. And I got three people saying something nice about the clothes and the colours. How funny is that. I think my fashion sense is somehow weird. I'm like three years late or something. I can wear very different styles each day. I love to dress really well, I like going to that kind of parties. But I also enjoy wearing just about anything. And I also thrive naked.
I was never interested in makeup when I was younger. Maybe it was just because it was something that belonged to the blond, popular, partying girls, not the intelligent ones. I just couldn't be bothered. I think I am about the only one who even got married without any makeup. And it wasn't a small informal wedding, it was a big church wedding with everything you can imagine. Makeup just wasn't my style, I never used it otherwise, so my reasoning was, why bother this time either. I've changed, I like makeup, but I can as well go without any.
Six hours from now, and I should be ready to wake up. It’s midnight, and the others are sleeping. I’m supposed to pack for the kids and me, plus get some sleep. It’s only a one night trip but nevertheless we need to have a change of clothes for each, plus I need to have three changes of sports wear as I don’t intend to wash too much clothes. I hope that the family enjoys their time together while I’m dancing. I’m so excited! I got such a nice message from the teacher: looking forward to dancing and enjoying together!
I had dinner with an old friend today. She has gone through some major changes in her life during the last year or two. Separation and divorce, joint custody, from hard-core stay at home mother to working outside of home, children in daycare and school, from vegetarian to meat eating... She felt so self-secure about her relationship to her husband. Their marriage was something really different, it wasn’t like the rest, there was no suppression, no patriarchal bullshit. Yeah, right. I’m not happy about their marriage crashing, it came as a shock as she always gave such a different impression.
I bought a new skirt. I don’t know, maybe it’s too cool for a middle-aged mother like me. I didn’t even try it on, I’m sure it fits, and if it doesn’t fit now, it will, in a week or two. I’m this certain about my new eating habits sticking! I have already had two people noticing I have lost some weight. It can’t be a lot, but I feel good. Funny thing, I’d really like to get pregnant some time soon. I’m not worried about gaining too much during the pregnancy as the nursing always makes me lose weight.
Now I’m going to list a few things I enjoy: morning papers, dancing, sleeping, receiving snail mail letters, receiving birthday gifts and other gifts, sex with myself, sex with other people, serial killer novels, knitting, somewhat violent American movies, sleeping in a tent, travelling in a train, travelling in a bus, travelling, good-looking men, good-looking women, skin that is not pale, skillfully combined words in fine literature, high quality wine that someone else chooses, getting oral sex, giving negative feedback at a store, singing, being naked, bubble bath, listening to the radio in the car, talking in the phone, shopping.
She works as a janitor at a local school. Twenty years back, we worked in another place together. Already then, her choice of clothing was baffling. It still is. It feels like she has no idea of what kind of colours, textures, materials, styles etc. go together. She has plenty of clothes, so it's not like she hasn't got enough money to get decent clothing. Her idea of style is just something completely different. I'm sure that the way she combines clothes is never going to be stylish. It hasn't, in the past 20 years, and it never will be.
School killed my love of sports. It has taken almost twenty years to regain some positive thoughts about moving myself, getting sweaty, doing it just for the fun of it. Somehow what we did at school was so competitive, fun only for those winning and succeeding, not fun for those of us who feared the gym days and still can taste blood and tears when even thinking about school sports. I get goosebumps when I drive my children to the same sports field where I used to taste that blood and tears in my mouth. And they do it voluntarily!
"Fame! I wanna live forever, I wanna learn how to fly HIGH!"Anyone remember Fame? It must have been twenty years ago. They were so cool! The school was so cool! I remember this magazine saying: "Who wants to live forever? Not Leroy Johnson."- Now I'm starting to doubt if it was his real name or just his Fame name. Anyway, he didn't last long, did he? He died in drugs quite young. Didn't live forever, that is. It would be fun to see Fame again. Wonder if they released the series on DVD yet? Ah, those songs! And hair!
I can feel the effects of not sleeping in my voice. My throat feels strained and rusty and scratched. I know sleeping is a good idea, and as I have told, I like sleeping. But some days there just aren’t enough hours for getting enough sleep. I tend to take my own time when the others are sleeping, and this has a negative effect on my voice and health. Why can’t I just go to sleep then? Good question, hmm. This time I had some serious work to be done: I’m releasing a ton of books to the nature tomorrow!
What a wonderful time I had during the weekend! I spent the weekend dancing, in a group of wonderful women, sweating, laughing, screaming, singing, crawling on the floor, listening to the music, all the time dancing and thoroughly enjoying myself. The teacher was so wonderful, she was so beautiful, tall, slender, muscular, funny, attentive, beautiful. Why oh why are there no dance classes like this in my home town, and actually not even near my home town? I even asked for this specific teacher's classes, even though she doesn't even live in the same country as I. I miss dancing!
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