I think this is just going to be a crappy weekend.
Let me preface this by saying that SAD is totally kicking my ass this winter, far worse than it has in years. That, and it's been a dreadful year in a lot of ways (between having to do hospice care for my grandmother, losing all my friends when I switched majors, relapsing back into my ED and not being able to lose weight fast enough and feeling hopeless for not knowing what the hell I'm doing with my life despite being at the age when I should have graduated). I'm miserable, lonely, always cold, isolated, withdrawn and desperately trying to hold it together.
Anyway. I'm going to be 23 on monday. I have no friends in this godforsaken state to go out with. Even my old friends that I see very rarely are too busy to even bother with me. There's nothing to do. I have no way to get money to go out and treat myself because Wells Fargo conveniently didn't send out my replacement debit card when mine expired at the end of January. It's absolutely freezing. My rent went up. The only good thing was that my mom and dad were going to take me out tomorrow night for Italian food and wine. Well, my dad has decided that he doesn't want to miss a chamber concert (seriously, they go every single weekend) so that's not happening. We can't do it on Sunday night because I have an 8am chemistry exam on monday so I can't drink that night. And to top it all off, I feel revoltingly fat and I still can't do anything about it as my achilles tendon is still sending shooting pains up my leg. I just want to scream.
And I know I'm being whiny and overreacting. I know it. That's why I'm bitching in a blog.
I'm just sick of feeling this isolated and unloved. I don't get what's wrong with me. I want friends in this state. I want a boyfriend who likes me and would surprise me with flowers on my birthday. I want to have my life together. I want to be sure that I'm doing the right thing. And I just don't know anything.
I am so thrilled for the Neil Gaiman scents, even though almost none of them sound like they'll work for me. How is it that Beth can make scents that I rationally know will smell awful on me so enticing?
Bilquis -- No, because it has the honey of doom. But... rose otto! Myrrh! Ambrette! Warm musk! How I wish I'd ever met a honey blend that played nicely on me.
Mad Sweeney -- Not for me, but I wish I had a boy to put this on a breathe in deeply and contentedly.
Mama-Ji -- Oh, this one is really, really, really incredibly tempting. It's not at the top of my order list, but I do love me some cardamom and nutmeg. It just depends on the other "spices".
Mr. Ibis -- YES! There is absolutely nothing in this blend I don't like. Vanilla flower? Musk? Sandalwood? Aloe? Please give now, thank you very much.
Mr. Jacquel -- Probably not because of the patchouli but it does sound lovely. Amber and hyssop, such a lovely sounding combination.
Mr. Nancy -- Ooooh, maybe. Sugar cookies, lime and rum... mmmm... I'm a bit leery about tobacco but this one has to go on the list.
Spider -- Hmph. If not for the vetiver, this would be a 'well DUH'. I wonder if I'll ever find a vetiver BPAL for me.
Crow Moon -- Okay, probably not because of the vervain, but that makes me so sad. All the florals sound lovely.
Oborot -- Oh yes! This sounds like a dark, thick blend I could really get into.
Fire Pig -- Absobloodylutely! If only because I'm really missing Hong Kong and Chinese New Year right now. Besides the fact that peony is one of my very favourite florals and everything else sounds delish.
Re-cap: Yes to Mr. Ibis, Oborot and Fire Pig. Maybe to Mama-Ji, Mr. Jacquel and Mr. Nancy. No to Bilquis, Mad Sweeney, Spider and Crow Moon.
Like everyone else, one of my resolutions this year was to read at least 100 books outside of classes. This is just my way of keeping myself accountable and possibly to give other people suggestions of books they might enjoy. I also write lame mini-reviews which you are welcome to giggle at.
1) Balzac and the Little Chinese Seamstress: A Novel by Dai Sijie.
A lovestory (of words and people) set in a rural village in China during the Cultural Revolution. It heightens one's understanding of the horrors of Mao's plans for "re-education" and goals for China. Despite the injustice and the potential for anger, this story is charming and gentle, choosing to focus instead on making do with reality and finding an escape in language. Absolutely beautiful, a wonderful way to start out the year.
2) The Penelopiad: The Myth of Penelope and Odysseus by Margaret Atwood.
Margaret Atwood does it again! As a reader, I've often wondered about the backstory of popular myths and what Penelope was REALLY like has always been up there in my mind, especially as I find her so much more interesting than Helen. The language is, as always, devastatingly beautiful and honest without being blunt.
3) Life Before Man by Margaret Atwood.
I'd never even heard of this particular Atwood work and, at the end of it, I can understand why. It must have been more shocking when it was originally written, but for me, the swingers were uninteresting because they seemed so normal. Lasje, however, with her dinosaur-fascination did manage to hold my attention to the end. If you're an Atwood fan, it's worth a read but I wouldn't recommend it to anyone just starting to explore her work.
4) Lighthousekeeping by Jeanette Winterson.
This is a lovely, quick read that I could have spent a month on. Silver's story woven in with Tristan and Isolde is absolutely breathtaking. The wonderful thing about Winterson is that she manages to write what feels truthful in a way that it is different upon every reread. Her honesty is multifaceted and prone to slipping away under scrutiny.
5) Willful Creatures: Stories by Aimee Bender.
A quirky collection of short stories from the author of The Girl in the Flammable Skirt. I can't possibly describe them without using the words "surreal" and "bizarre". With characters from a big man who keeps a little man as a pet to an insomniac with an iron for a head, these stories will either draw you in or leave you out in the cold.
6) Piranha to Scurfy: Stories by Ruth Rendell.
This collection of Rendell's short stories definitely has its weak points, but the first and last story (introducing Ribbon the literary snob and Ben who stumbles into a relationship in a village where everything works... differently) make up for it. Rendell's background as a mystery writer shines through as these stories are full of questions and waiting with baited breath for whatever comes next.
7) Eleven Minutes: A Novel by Paulo Coelho.
Maria is a girl who, at a young age, determines that love will not come to her. By the time she is 19, she is working as a prostitute in Switzerland. The title comes from her realization that sex takes only eleven minutes to complete and yet people are obsessed with it, a theme that she will continue to wonder about through the whole book. Her trials and triumphs are sometimes fascinating, sometimes bordering on idiotic. All in all, worth the read but nowhere near Coelho's best.
8) The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien.
I'd actually read this before, but it was one of the books that I read when I was 8 and trying to prove that I could. It didn't mean much to me then but this time, I'm awestruck. I love the poetry and the songs, the dialogue between the characters. It reminds me that I really need to go back and reread the Lord of the Rings trilogy and The Silmarillon.
So, after freaking out the other day I remember why I always ought to pay attention to my feelings. My friend was in a car wreck. She's going to be fine, thankfully, but the timing was just odd.
My timing seems to be consistently odd. I don't know if I truly believe in ESP and other psychic things, but I do know that I have a lifelong pattern of knowing when something bad is going to or has happened. There are almost daily moments of knowing little things, but these are the main ones:
1) right before my mom got phone calls telling her of my grandfather and uncle's deaths, i told her not to pick up the phone because it was going to be bad. we were living in Japan and neither of them had been sick before they died.
2) i dreamed of my grandfather's death the night before he died. not just of him dying, but the exact manner of his death.
3) i did the pre-phone call thing when my grandmother had the final stroke that put her in hospice care. i answered my phone and said "it's grandma, isn't it?" before my mother said a word. i'd actually been anxious and worried for a few days before, starting the day that she had her first stroke.
4) the morning of 9/11, i had a feeling that i needed to take the train into penn station instead of the WTC. i'd never gone into school that way before.
I think I need to stop dismissing these feelings.
