Merry Whatchamacallit?

Happy Holidays everyone, whatever that might mean to you each indivividually. This is just a quick note while the relatives have gone out and left me home alone with 3 children and a toddler in a pear tree. My older sisters and their boyfriends are visiting us for two weeks and I'm having a great time. So far I haven't gone to bed before 5 a.m. and I predict the rest of the week will be more of the same.

I got lots of lovely presents, although I'm slightly saddened by the fact that I'm starting to enjoy getting clothes as gifts. I remember a time when clothes presents were immediately shoved aside with a shout of "Next!" I do hope I'm not *gulp*, "getting old."

The last couple of days before my sisters got here, my mother was going madtrying to pain t the house inside and out, cook, clean the floors, shine the windows, wash the laundry, etc, etc. I was supposed to help her, and for the most part I did, But my muse decided to interrupt me in her usual fashion. Or maybe that was my sloth? Anyhow, I'll leave you with this little tidbit:

Wasting Time
Write emails and a blog,
Water dead plants, walk the dog.
Write some poetry, prose or rhyme?
I think rhyme will be,
The greater waste of time.

Eggnog?

So much for the holidays, things have been busier than ever, hence the lack of posts I'm afraid. My older sisters and their boyfriends are arriving next week, so Mum, has us cleaning the house like the Queen was coming for tea. Sigh, besides that, a friend gave me a set of nails and I'm only just getting the hang of typing with claws. It's taking longer than figuring out how to gauge someone's eyes out...

Talking of gauging, the Rockstar couldn't come out and play last night because he hadn't showered, and someone was in the family bath. Is there a prize for lamest excuse since "I'm washing my hair"? In any case, the family went to Bol-Bol and we spent too much money on joystick games. Spookily my joints started getting stuck from too much button pushing, and I'm a bit worried that Mum's prediction that I was going to do permanent damage to my fingers by cracking them has finally come true. Help!

Mmm, while I try and remember what else I was going to post here's sme photos...and no they're not THOSE photos...
Mum thinks I should finance uni with a modelling career...I say, if I had a modelling career I wouldn't go to uni...































And this is my son William, looking dashing as usual...

Ah yes, I remember, I got a sitemeter last week, it's at the bottom of the page. The site has 92 views so far, not that I really care about that. No, I just want to keep tabs at who's looking, bwahaha, and the referrals are interesting too. Seems most people are coming over from Rachel's blog. Others include Hayley's Vegeterian to Vegan Blog, and this cool blog that consists solely of photos. There's also a map showing where in the world the page is being visited from, the furthest away so far being Auckland, New Zealand. Second farthest is Egypt.

More tales of love, woe, excitement, vegeterian follies, and hoodies in the next post. But now I need to go pick William up from "Baby's Daykare". Yes, I know, how can I trust my firstborn to people who can't spell?

Season of Mists

Listening to: "Three Libras" by Perfect Circle
Current mood: Melancholy, nostalgic (yes, THAT song will do that to anyone, not that i need any help).
Worrying about: Dying (yes, I know it's useless).
Quote: "Don't take life too seriously, you can't possibly get out of it alive." Bugs Bunny

Hmm, I'm considering putting those up there for the rest of my posts, I'll see how I feel about it next time I post. I've been meaning to put something up for ages, but dad discovered peer to peer trading programs and is staying up till 4 a.m. every day downloading music. In a week he's managed to do more damage to the music industry than I have in 6 months. But he's not home tonight, William is asleep, my siblings are being taken care for by the nanny, aka the tv (they're way too far gone for me to save them, I'm waiting for them to hit puberty to try and use the hormone jolt to pull them out of their brain deadness), and mum is out with an aunt.

I've got plenty to write, maybe too much, as recently I've found that I interpret a lot of what happens to me by thinking, "How am I going to write about this in my blog?", which is much much worse than having imaginary conversations with myself about what I'm going to say to X or Y next time I see them. I can only hope I'm not the only one who is suffering from this mental illness, and to be honest I don't need to hope too hard. I bet the pharmaceuticals are already making up a drug and a name to go along with it.

This is what the Diagnostic Manual will say:

Blogger Induced Psychosis

Patient displays an unusual obsession with updating their blog, which is often used as a means of "framing" the world in order to interact with it better or to give it a more television like image to perception. In some type A individuals this is accompanied by the belief that the blog has a huge loyal audience, and that they owe this legion of fans up to date and accurate information.

Mmmm, maybe not. In any case here I am, and feeling a bit blue. It's one of the simple side effects of traveling so much, you leave a little bit of yourself in every spot, and sometimes you just ache for places and people and it is just a wave that needs riding out, because one can't just take the next plane to Timbuktu every time you get a bit "non-homesick". People often ask me where I think home is, and all I can ever reply is "What home?" It's like Rachel used to say, "If home is where the heart lies, and the heat lies, then where is home?". Right now I'm having one of those rare downers that constitutes missing everywhere and everyone at the same time, and this added to the fact that old friends have been coming out of the woodwork to say hi and everything reminds me of England, the place that comes closest to home in my mind.

Not to say with all this that I don't love Mexico, or the people I do have near. And even less so that I would trade in my nomad days for a more sedentary life style. Hell no! I would never exchange the dozens of rooms I couldn't decorate to fit my taste because they were rented or because it wasn't worthwhile due to the short amount of time I was going to spend in them for a permanent set of four walls I could do as I wished with. And I wouldn't trade the hundreds of people I know but hardly get to see, for friends that were always there. No, I really do like things as they are, but sometimes it's a lonely life. But this feeling will pass, probably by the end of the week, and I'll be moaning again at having slept in the same room for the past six months and not being able to stretch my wings.

So, who dropped me a line? I heard from Janacua, the third boy I ever kissed. We had a few dates in Mexico City after meeting in a chat room, and then I ran and hid. I was 15 at the time and to be honest I still haven't got the hang of saying good bye properly, and I was about to go back to England. To his credit he didn't hold a grudge and we chat and exchange emails every once in a while. Um, and not to my credit at all, he was writing to tell me that as usual, I've left it forever to answer his last email and he hopes I'm still alive.

I got an email from Daniel, who is a darling, even though he's usually more melancholy and pessimistic than I am in my worst hours. The email was to say hi, since I haven't been online in a while (we're chat buddies), um and to mention he was feeling blue...I rest my case. Then again he usually manages to lift my spirits whenever we chit chat and not always by showing me the dark side of things. Shoot, now I'm trying to resist whistling that tune from "Life of Brian".

Next person on this stroll down memory lane is DLB#1 aka David Burns, my genuine first ever boyfriend. Nice guy, funny as hell and a gorgeous body. Why oh why did I break up with him then? Ah yes, lovely though he was, in the end I realized we were really friends with benefits, I loved him dearly, but NOT like that. And I think the feeling was mutual. I was a bit cruel.. okay I was too cruel to him in the end, and although we still exchange emails it doesn't happen as often as it should. So note to self: write David more often.

Last email I got was from Rachel, who is either too busy or too sad to update her blog, so I'm a bit worried about her. Not too worried though, as I know she is spunkier than she admits and will be all right no matter what. She's managed to not turn cynical and boring despite being VERY smart, and that is a rare gem. Out of all the people that are far away, she's the one I miss the most, and my best friend. Sorry to say that at times I've been cruel to her too, out of sheer oblivion or immaturity. Again, being the little ray of sunshine that she is, we're still in touch in spite of that.

And for all of them and many others I am grateful. So I'm going to stop being such a weeping willow now. But thinking back, I guess I've been unkind to a lot of people, and if any of you are reading this, all I can say is I'm sorry, and it genuinely was not malicious, it was probably more of a case of me being silly, or selfish, or childish; and it's all down to me not being quite domesticated or polished, so don't take it personally.

In other news I finished my first term of uni on Tuesday, with flying colors, all 10's except for a darn 9 somewhere, so all A's and a B for you Brits...I stayed up all night Monday to finish a web page for IT that isn't online, and does not look anything like this webpage, which I also made, but much much better, thanks to this. I might upload it someday, just for the hell of it. I also showed my teacher my blog to which he replied "Stop fussing you nerd, you've already got a 10." Yes, bow before my mighty nerd powers, pestering my teachers into giving me top scores! Mmm the Virgin Mary talk didn't go as smoothly as planned, but at least I didn't get stoned, and my opponent was a bit rubbish too, so never mind.

I have a frightening reinscription through the internet coming up, which I've been told is going to be hellish. Apparently I have to pick a schedule, but there's only so many spots for each schedule, s if someone comes along with better grades than me they can kick me out of the group and I have to find a new schedule. And the system has a tendency to go offline....

Thursday night Ivonne phoned me to tell me she had to hand in a photography project the next day and would I pose naked for her and 2 of her classmates. Now, I still don't know if I should feel offended or proud at the fact that when her original model fell through, I was the first person she rang, but of course I agreed almost immediately. I've always wanted to pose for life drawings, but I've never had enough time to commit to a project of that immensity, so this was perfect. It was the most fun I've had taking my clothes off since, um lets see, Saturday. And no I won't be posting the photos on here, and you can't have copies, that includes you Mr. Rockstar. The last time I had nude photos of me, the mobile they were in got stolen, and heaven knows where they are now...

Speak of the devil, I went to see Narnia with Mr. Rockstar and it was lovely, I love fantasy stories with magickal creatures and a good versus evil plotline. The CGI animation is just amazing, the outfits and makeup were incredible, and the music was very good too (and don't take my word for it, the resident music man, Mr. Rockstar concurrs). And I{m just a sucker fot gryphons. I read the book when I was little, but what really got burnt into my young cerebral cortex was the scene in the animated movie when the witch tortures and kills the lion. My only complaint is there not much in the way of blood in the film, which isn't surprising since its a PG and a Disney film to boot, but both of us thought a darker version of the film for adults wouldn't go amiss. Mr. Rockstar won absolutely no brownie points wishing out loud that we would soon get to see more of the witches cleavage...anyhow, the point is its a great film despite the lack of gore and will some director please, please, make the rated R version?

Silly Love Songs

Oh fudge. Just when I thought I was safe. Just when I thought I'd gotten over my bohemian ideals and found my cool hearted, firm handed, practical self together... some sod puts up love poetry along with the grades up on the Wall of Laments (and not Commerce) at uni. It's not even that good, but I have to admit I like it. I might even copy it and post it for my Spanish readers. As for the rest of you, sorry, I've always felt translating poetry is probably as useful as turning it into a crossword puzzle.

Feeling inspired myself lately too, there's a contest for short novels in the works at the moment which has caught my eye, so I might write a piece for that, especially since I'm nearly on vacation. Oh yes, I seem to have survived my first term of uni without psychological scarring and plus a few friends. All that's left is presenting this blog for an IT class and giving a talk on "Mary, Modern Woman, and the Church." It's the counterargument to a classmate's talk, which will basically be all faith and no science, but he can cry at will, which is a weapon I don't count on. But do not worry, I can make the Whore of Babylon look good, have nice powerpoint slides, etymology and animated snowflakes on my side...

Went out with the rockstar and some work people last night, they're a great bunch and I had a lovely time. I ate too much too. Played with the rockstar under the table a bit more than is proper as well, tee hee, but I couldn't help myself. Oh, and he made his first appearance in one of my dreams tonight. Now, anyone that knows me well enough can tell you my dreams are extremely important to me, that I obssess about them for days, write them down and analyze them like new lovers, and then sometimes I even dream them over on purpose. In my dreams everything makes sense, even if it shouldn't, I feel in total control of myself and I know my surroundings. I sometimes even have the sneaking suspicion that my dreams are more real than my waking life. But anyhow, thats subject matter for another post, my point is, he's made it in there, so he's doing well.

I was reminiscing with my parents today about the ups and downs of our religious life...well okay, the downs, there haven't been any ups. Mum used to be a practicing Catholic and would have probably made it to heaven if it hadn't been for Dad, who used to be bitterly cinical and disbelieving of the church and clergy in general. That is until he hit his midlife crisis and started believing in everything, from crystals and astral forces, to old men in clouds and virgin births. Too much, too late for his younger offspring I'm afraid, my little sister and brother, and myself have NEVER been baptized, so we're going straight to hell according to some sources (please, please don't let the Mormons baptize me after I'm dead!). We talked about how my aunt has a tiny minibar fridge with no food in her house, but always manges to have at least three big bottles of holy water to sprinkle and bless visits with. And we fondly remebered the time that my Dad, after I asked him to take me to get baptized, spit in his hand, dabbed his finger in it and, making the sign of the cross on my forhead with dribble said: "Okay, there, your'e baptized". This got me thinking: shouldn't everyone have the opportunity to have even a small vial of my father's holy drool? It's thicker than holy water, and it's good for baptisms, weddings, excorcisms and funerals. PLease send a sae and a donation to the usual address.

Ah and speaking of addresses, I got a lovely postcard from Rachel! Which reminds me, I really ought to get round to sending her birthday present, maybe that way, it'll get there for next year's celebration....