the missing link

This might seem somewhat disjointed. I haven't posted here for a long time. For a while there I posted on a different blog which I thought would reflect a changed attitude that I have had over the past little while. Turns out that was just another unfinished well-intentioned project that I decided to start. Let them all pile up, right?

Anyway so snuffleupagus and I broke up late last year and I went and tried to experience the world. Turns out I had feelings for one of our mutual friends. Snuffleupagus always thought that this friend and I had something going on in the background... but both he and I can assure you that this was not the case.

So I am dating ym ex's friend (and he used to date my friend... weird) Socially unacceptable... eh, but we're happy.

So he has been on a Europe trip for the past 8.5 weeks and he is coming back this weekend. I am so keen to see him again! We have missed each other a lot. Before dating I would have to say that we were best friends. In fact, he still is somewhat my best friend. I just hope it works out alright.

Anyway I hope that there will be some more comedic reports to share with you all.

fishy eggs

So I recently hard boiled some eggs on their use by date (yes, I had forgotten I had eggs in the fridge) which, on the water test, all appeared to be happy and healthy. Coming to the end of the dozen in my fridge I have been a little more careful about the eggs that I choose to eat.

While being on Skype to my boyfriend (who is overseas at the moment and has been for the last 8 weeks) I had the following discussion regarding which egg I should eat. I thought it was rather amusing and possibly interesting enough for you to read:

me: I have two eggs, one smells like fish and the other smells like egg. Which one should I eat?

the romantic: um, an egg that smells like egg? How is that a real question?

me: well I am not sure which one is off.

the romantic: does it float or sink in water?

me: they're hard boiled. You can't do that test

the romantic: well maybe you should have thought about that before you boiled it. I would just eat both because my stomach can take anything. But you're just mornal so I wouldn't if I was you

me: but I could die if I eat a bad egg! Oh I don't know what to do!

the romantic: then man up and eat both

me: I just peeled the egg smelling one and it's blue!

the romantic: show me. Mould?

me: no, it is just blue

the romantic: then don't eat it

me: yeah, it smells like egg

the romantic: how is this even a serious question?

me: it's a matter of life or death

the romantic: ok, do this then. Unpeel both and cut them in half. Eat the better looking and smelling pieces.

me: cutting the blue egg!

the romantic: or just don't eat an egg

me: but I want to eat an egg

the romantic: holy sh*t that can't be an option. OH MY GOD WHICH EGG DO I EAT? THEY'RE BOTH WEIRD. HOW ABOUT I EAT NEITHER AND JUST EAT CEREAL.

me: I don't want cereal, I want an egg. Um, it is blue on the inside. It looks like zombie eyes

the romantic: man up and eat a goddam egg.

me: but I could get sick

the romantic: then throw up when it doesn't feel good. At least you ate an egg. Ho do they look on the inside?

me: I told you, the blue one looks like zombie eyes

the romantic: show me

I show him the eggs (putting them on my eyes to look like zombie eyes

the romantic: yeah I wouldn't eat that sh*t. Why would you even contemplate that?

me: because I really want an egg. Oh hey, the fishy smelling egg isn't blue. Oh and it looks really good on the inside.

the romantic: how does it taste?

me: like egg

the romantic: what a twist. The lesson here is that you should eat fishy smelling eggs. Badumtsh.


w

Do you ever feel like your reality is like no one elses? No wonder there seems to be chaos on the outside while you are ablivious to how it formed. I just found out that my reality was not what it was like at all... I'm doomed to live a separated life

Dear Emily

To dear Emily, Recently I know we haven't been getting along as well as we used to. I know that you are telling everyone that it is my fault. Perhaps at times it is. I cannot help that I have a lot of psychological issues that have come to the forefront recently. All part of my trying to get better, according to the doctors. Recently I feel that you don't even know that I exist. I do. I feel, I breathe and I hurt. It hurts me that you don't even seem to care. You tell everyone that I lost touch, that I am apathetic about the whole situation. I'm not. I hurt in every fibre of my being. In fact, the very defining factor of borderline personality is that we feel emotions far stronger than others. I'm dying on the inside but I have to be a rock on the outside or I'd melt all over the floor. I thought you understood that, and that was why we were friends. I thought you understood me inside and out, and I loved you more for respecting me. Now you don't even seem to understand the words I use to talk with you. I don't know what went wrong, I don't know when you stopped understanding me. I don't know when I ceased to speak the same language as you, but all I know is that I am tired of swimming upstream. You tell me you can't handle my dark thoughts so I don't tell you. Now you complain I don't tell you anything. I do, but trust me, there isn't much light inside my soul. At least not right now. When you stopped caring, I lost something to live for. I lost motivation to keep contact with the outside world. My box is my world. Chaotic and messy and disorganised. But it is here that I sleep, eat and breathe. Here tha I come back to in order to feel safe. My bad accepts me just the way I am. Now that you don't, I have no reason to leave my bed. These four walls enclose me but they protect me from the unfamiliar world. These walls keep the danger out, or at least that is what I feel. I know I don't matter to you anymore. I know you are only going to be my friend if I do "the grand gesture". I'm struggling to keep myself on my feet, how can I use my arms to do anything else? I'm OK with us drifting apart if it is mutual, but why does it have to always be my fault? Why do I always have to cry? Why? It's not my faiult the world is grey. I just keep myself alive if I have something to live for Goodbye old friend. I think I might have dreamt you

He and he

So I have been going out with Snuffleupagus for almost 1 year (we celebrate it this Friday). I love him more that I can imagine. More than I ever thought was possible.. especially more that I thought I loved the boy. It gives me reason on reflection that I didn't ever love him but was more in love with the idea of him.

Ryan lives up North with me. I recently went back South to visit my family and friends. I had a lot of fun during the past week. I spent a lot of time hanging out with my friends, especially Metal-head. I am not sure if I mentioned Metal-head and my relationship as yet..

We met in high school, year 11 to be precise. I was introduced to him as my best friend's boyfriend. Over the 6 months that they were going out for I gradually became better friends with him, even perhaps to the point of having an interest in him. When he broke up with my good friend (lady xbox) I of course lent all my time to her and reminding her how wonderful she actually is. These days she doesn't count her relationship with Metal-head as an actual relationship. For starters they never actually kissed each other, but there was a mutual attraction between them during the time they spent together.

Through this "break-up" time I maintained my friendship with him, even if it was less time-consuming that it had been in the past. After about 4 or 5 months I was getting up the courage to rekindle our strong friendship and after consoling lady xbox, she'd mentioned that she wouldn't really care if a friend of hers went out with Metal-head, provided they ran it by her first.

No, I am against the "dating your friend's ex" thing, but my attraction to Metal-head was quite strong at that point. I finally plucked up the courage to ask him out so to say, only to find that my other excellent friend at the time was actually interested in him. Psycho-phys also happened to know that I had a "crush" on Metal-head and I gave her first attempt. I heard nothing over the course of a month and after much hesitating asked him to lunch with me. Part way through lunch I found out that he had, only just the day before, asked Psycho-phys out and of course she accepted. No doubt my heart was broken but it didn't dent my friendship with either of the two.

Over the course of year 12 I battled my growing feelings and loyalty to my friends and eventually moved North to attend univeristy as I had just missed out on a place for my course in my home town. It was somewhat sweet relief as part way through year 12 I happened to pull Metal-head aside and mention to him that I had to stop hanging out with him as I was very heavily interested in him. Actually, I do believe I used the words "madly" and "love" somewhere in there, which pains me to recall how silly a young hormone-driven mind can be.

Barely a month after me leaving, and having finally got over my first boyfriend (which lasted barely 2 months over the summer holidays between the end of year 12 and the start of uni) I find out from my Psycho-phys friend that she and Metal-head had broken up. It was heart-wrneching as I listened to her cry on the phone to me. I am not sure if it was only due to her crying and being so tormented or if it had something to do with the news that he had taken up with Bi-emo not two days after.

Bi-emo has a reputation for having "been around" although I was surprised to hear that she was a virgin before Metal-head. She has used to be my friend until about year 11 when her crazy aggressive and sexual ways impeded my ability to be politely tollerant of her.

So, Metal-head was dipping in the dirty. He was immediately tarred with a tainted brush.

That was all a few years ago now.

Dad had always teased me about Metal-head having a "crush" on me for some years. I always shrugged it off as I really didn't believe it. I had been living up North for some time and had my share of romances to solve any young person's desires. You only have to read my previous entries to see the profound effect they had on me. It was all talk from my dad, according to me, until this most recent visit South.

Aside from catching up every day, he would randomly call me up and insist I join him for dinner as he had accidentally defrosted too much meat. He stayed at my board-games night well beyond a normal hour ( until 4am or something) when he had to be up at 8:30 the next day. During this board-game night we'd (the group) gone for a 3 hour walk where the usual young-person shinanigans ensued. Some of this involved him wrestling me toward the garden so he could drop me in the bushes as they, amusingly, would swallow me whole. I believe at one point i latched onto a lamp-post and in his effort to drag me toward the garden, had gripped my around the middle quite tightly and I was lifted off the ground. We were a little too close to be considered just funny and the other person we were with thought so too, although she didn't mention anything until the morning.

The biggest thing, I think, was my last night in the South where there was huge joint birthday to which many of my friends were invited, Metal-head included. I had to leave early due to my pending flight in the morning, but once it was time for me to leave, most people were significantly under the influence of alcohol to perhaps loose some of their inhibitions. I went around the group to say fare-well to the people I had spent a fair amount of time talking with, and did the usual hug as is what is expected. I of course met up with Metal-head and hugged him too while saying goodbye. He, however, hung onto me a little too long for a usual friendly hug, and it felt somewhat more intimate than it should have. Actually, it felt very much intimate. I think it had something to do with his arm placement.

I am getting the strong impression that the tables have turned here. He used to be the occupied one while I fawned over him, but now I am accopuied and I am getting the impression that he is fawning over me somewhat. I could be wrong though.

Earlier in the night, though, I squeezed back into my position on the couch, after grabbing another drink of water (yes, hard core drinker, I am) and the gap between Encyclopaedia (male) and Metal-head had narrowed. So yes, I squeezed back in, fitting quite snuggly back into my spot. Metal-head however had decided it to be hilarious if he fell back onto me and squashed me further that I already was. It was very tight and yes, he body was lying against mine in quite close quarters. In order to save the ciurculation in my arm I extracted it and placed it the only place that was really available... around his torso. It took me a moment to realise that this was somewhat inapropriate for friends to do, but my arm was there long enough for all the people in the room to see and of course for Metal-head to become fully aware of it.

Perhaps this attraction thing is somewhat mutual. Or maybe it is to do with each of us unsure where the line between friendship and beyond it actually lies. I am advised by Hipster, Snuffleupagus' friend, to talk it out with Metal-head and find out exactly where each of us stands and how we feel. I am rather scared at the thought.

I dated a hobbit

Short, hairy and enjoys travelling (plus doesn't wear shoes) the man that holds me is most indeed a hobbit. A wonderful repairing one. He is serving a rebound type job, and he's doing rather well at it. It is so nice to be in the arms of someone who actaully wants you, who listens to what you say and cares about your problems. A fresh breath of relief from the one-sided relationship with the boy.

I know it won't last, I had to pull the plug. I was going back to the north soon, and I was still broken. Damaged goods. I left and set my sights on bigger fish, but then he took a hold of me by the train and in the wind with my hair everywhere, the rain pelting the roof. His passion and feelings for me were shown in the desperate kiss that fell from his lips onto mine. That is what I crave most, the forceful desire of one to show his feelings. To feel wanted, adored and respected by another. The best healing from the difficult time I have had since ending it with the boy and being homeless, chased and hated by those that I trusted.

Oh the healing of being wanted.

My hobbit helped to put me on the right path and now the future looks bright.

The magpie or the currawong

Busy busy busy. Life took a slightly downward turn there for a while. I guess it was my own doing. I put myself into a house that was not a home and sought refuge with a person who couldn't hold me the way I needed to be held. I broke under pressure and have suffered severely from it. The big bad wolf is after me still, sensing a way to take advantage. I fear, I live in fear, I fear the dark, the shadows and the boogie-man behind every corner... lurking just out of sight.

I ran to a place I feel would shelter me. And shelter me it did. Fed, watered, tissues passed. Care in every visible meaning of the word. Comfort does not come so easily especially when the demonds are in your own mind and eating you alive. Out of habit I head home like a Swallow. I hide with my head in the sand. I am the Emu who runs and the Ostrich who hides.

I fear that I hide in loudness and brash behaviour. Here in the land of my birth I have spread my social wings and tried to reap the comfort from social support. I fear I am attention-craving, loud and brash like the Magpie. I can only hope that I am as graceful, elegant and respected as the Currawong. The sound of it's song so much sweeter than that of the crying Magpie; the broken, scared and hurt Magpie.