But I said no no, no no no no, I said no no, you're not the one for me

So lately just about everyone asks me 'How are you doing' within 3 sentences. I'm sure most of them mean it well, but I'm getting fricking sick of it. The acceptable answer is: fine, thank you, and how are you?

But of course that is a lie. But most people who ask you how you are, do not wish to hear you say: I'm tired, I'm sick, I'm lonely and I'm pissed off, how about you, got better? So really, why bother asking then?

One of the things I like about Kevin is what most other people would probably consider a weakness: his complete and total inability to say anything supportive when confronted with an intensely emotional situation. Okay, I just sort of made him sound like a robot, but I do mean it in a nice way. It's not that he isn't supportive, or nice, but when you tell him something emotional, he usually doesn't know what to say, so he just doesn't say anything and let's you talk. This gives a sense of being listened to (while in reality he's probably just thinking 'oh fuck' :)) and doesn't annoy me nearly as much as all the people who say the same supportive things they heard on the re-runs of Beverly Hills 90210 and which are generally accepted as things to say to people who are sad (if I hear anything along the lines of: it will get better over time, I will positively lock myself into a bell tower and start picking of people who have a compassionate face, one by one).

Not that these clichés aren't true, and not that the people saying them are necessarily insincere, not at all. It's just... they're clichés darling, I could have thunk 'm up all by my li'l ol' self, thank thee very muchachas.

So, how am I feeling? Tired mostly, drop down tired, literally, as I seem to fall down every so often, angry a lot, which is good, because it keeps me going, somewhat lonely, but I have friends to buffer that one, and feverishly horny in an unpleasant way, which might explain the recent rise in naked men on this here blog thing. And yet I'm doing quite well considering the circumstances, so quit asking :) I've never been very good at moving on, it's a flaw not shared by others and because I am ever so bad at it, it bothers me when they do move on as if it is nothing (or when it appears so anyways, let's put it that way), but that's my issue mostly.

Besides, what's the fun of hearbreak if you can't at least dwell on it for a while? I dislike the whole pressure to get over it and move on. I demand my right to wallow in self-pity and act like a brat! I demand the right to have moodswings that are nothing short of absurd! I demand the right to be in a fever from horniness and not do anything about it! I demand the right to write incoherent ramblings on my blog, because ,by God or whoever may or may not be up there, a lot of other people are doing it and they cannot even spell!!!!!

In unrelated news: my broter went up and left (again) and my mother is all in a shambles (again) and my grandmother even more so (again), and I am simply exasperated (again again), but the silver lining is that I now have an extra room and an actual wardrobe, so my clothes no longer need to be spread around the house in whatever is available. Too bad he took the bed though. Anyways, my father took him back in (I don't know why, he'll throw him out (again again again again uh again I think) within 3 months) but is apparantly refusing to feed him so he will still be eating here. The women and gay men in this family really are just wimps towards their children, grandchildren and lovers. It's a good thing I don't plan to reproduce.

I've never gotten the whole family thing, probably because we were never much of a family to begin with. It is completely beyond me why my mother and grandmother continue to support my brother and try to help him, when he just acts all sullen and throws it back in their faces. That whole maternal instinct must be quite a kicker. I actually used to believe all families were like ours, with all brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and in-laws just secretly or openly hating each other and trying to make each other miserable, but experience has proven that some families get along.

I adored Tim's family, they were so 'together' and really seemed to enjoy spending time together, whereas my family's christmas party had fewer and fewer guests as people kept getting banned. I don't even think they still have it, the last year I went before I was banned myself, there were like 6 people. I think I basically fell in love with his family and the way they treated each other, I would have done anything to please them. I mean, his mum knitted me a sweater for goodness' sake, how great is that?! It sometimes made me sad my own was so screwy, because it must feel nice to know you can always count on your blood relations to have your back.

Another little downside to my brother leaving, is that my mother has suddenly noticed again I exist. No, I'm not being a prepubescent boy who feels his brother got all the attention. I just mean that I was always the 'okay' one: no matter what was going on, I was always in at least slightly better shape than my brother, so I could be left alone. I grew to rather like that and even cherish my invisibility. My mother therefore knows nothing about what goes on with me, she doesn't even know Tim and me broke up. But now that my brother is gone, and all the time and effort she used to spend on trying to set him right is suddenly left pending, she has taken an active interest in me, which means she is constantly in my room, talking wise lessons (don't do drugs, don't make a mess, hard-boiled eggs are 6 to 10 minutes, your boyfriend is bad for you, you don't sleep enough, your hair is too long, you have such a pretty face, why hide it?) The egg one being the most ridiculous one, since I actually went to a school with cooking lessons and can cook better than she. As for the other ones: too late, I know, I know, I KNOW, I'm getting a haircut, shut up. She's a lovely woman, really is and I love her dearly, with the right amount of being annoyed at her, but she is so clueless about the world sometimes, I wonder how she managed to get through it the last 7 years. Then again, considering the state of things, I guess that answers itself.

Which reminds me, I did get a haircut. It's uh weird. I have ears.

Also, I decided to stop my speaking cunt experiment (with regard to facial hair for those not in the know) for a variety of reasons:

1) It's too much damn work, you can't no shave the rest, it looks terrible and I hate shaving every two days.
2) It's really warm and itchy!
3) Only lesbians like it, and I'm not sure if that's a good thing.
4) My mum loves it, which is always a bad thing. And raises questions about her sexuality.

So this weekend, it's gonna go!

Ow for good news from the work place: Kelly, one of my colleagues, is pregnant, which means she has to quit right away (no, that part isn't the good news). Pregnant women aren't allowed to work with small children because they run the risk of getting the Cytomegalovirus (CMV), which is potentially dangerous to unborn children. (I think I might actually have that right now, it would explain my symptoms and it is very common to spread through day-cares, but it's not dangerous to an adult, only annoying for a while). Anyways, she has to quit right away and will be replaced starting july. But she works 30 hours instead of 20 like most of us and now there are 10 hours left pending, and our coordinator Niek has decided to divide those over me and Katrijn. So now I have a 25 hour contract. Technically it means I have to work 5 more hours, but that's nonsense, in less than a month I've already worked 35 hours and I get paid for 20 no matter what. So I won't actually work more, but I will get paid for 5 more hours, hooray.

I don't mean to be derogative towards women (again again again), but working in an all-female place, I have noticed how terribly bitchy and sneaky they can be to one another. Maybe it is just the specific location I am at, but the intrigue, scheming, gossipping, and cutting each other down whilst smiling is really out of control. While I like each of these women (well, okay, almost each) separately, I very much do not enjoy having them all around the same table. Really, it's almost frightening, especially when you missed all the history for these bitter resentments and have no idea what's going on. Sometimes I think even they forgot what it's about exactly. The first reactions to my new contract were -in keeping with the tenure- somewhat mixed. While some were I think genuinely happy for me, others seemed to be rather 'bitten in the arse' as we say and offered some cynical comments, whilst smiling sweetly of course.

So another question (not that anyone bothers to answer these unless penises are involved, but what the heck): is it different working with men than women? Or did I just end up in a volatile environment? Anyone have any clues?

And now: picture time.

Boy Toy of the Blog is this guy, whose name is Jiri. And that's how far the extent of my knowledge about him goes.

There are so many things wrong with this picture of Pamela Anderson. I don't really follow the career of her breast intently, but didn't she get them reduced? Because these do not look reduced and it is a recent picture. The legs also look haggard, which makes one wonder why she insists on putting them out there like that and we can only be grateful that at least she remembered to wear that silky little red thing that tries to pass as underwear. Most disconcerning however is her face. What the hell did she do? Has her nose always been like that. It's not just the pose, I've seen other pictures where she looks like that (by 'that', I mean an aging drag queen who just realised (s)he went out in public wearing only red silky underwear and is trying to keep up a smile, but inside is screaming with terror). She looks like she had some seriously iffy face work done.

And then there is that pimple on the face of the planet. Here she is impersonating a very rich orange, one overdue to be made into that porridge you make with vitabis or some other dry cookie. Here she is trying to convince Eminem to sleep with her, or that's what I make of it anyway. Here she is on the cover of Maxim, trying to convince the two straight men that haven't yet, to sleep with her. I believe here she has given up on the human race and is attempting to screw a ladybug or possibly a fly. They then flew straight into a bug zapper to escape her overstuffed vulva. The rest are really just pictures of her in misguided clothes. But hey! at least she's wearing some! Oh... forget I said that.

To prove the world is a cruel place, it's been reported that Jessica is now dating Jared Leto. Which is unfair, because Jessica is a plastic orange adult-toy and Jared is well, this. And this only after he came out as gay, which was probably just a joke, because we've seen Jess in some flimsy skirts and there's no way she's hiding a penis under there...

...or is there?