I haven't written anything of significance in awhile because I am having somewhat of an existential crisis. As I am a bit way too good of keeping up appearances, I've steered away of putting this out there for the public to see (confession time: I worry way, way too much about what other people think of me. I have got to get over that shit). But the facade is cracking and there are only like 2 people who read this, so maybe this, this putting it out there, will do me some good. (Facade should have a c with a curly tail. Don't know how to put that in because I don't know fucking html. Ahh! Note to self: Go back 10 years, learn how to program websites so that 10 years later you can blog properly. Or become rich programming websites for other people. It's all good). I won't go into details here, but suffice it to say I have to make some decisions that I don't really want to make. And I hate this because I'm in constant worry of making the wrong decision. Which is sort of irrational as I've made it this far in life without things going horribly, horribly wrong. Ok, so there have been some fuck-ups and I've done some stupid shit (fucking around with a college guy when you're 14 in a small town will indeed make you known as a woman of ill repute or, in Kansan speak, a whore); however, it's not as if I've ever done any time or reduced to drinking mouthwash to get my alchohol fix. At any rate, I'm the only one who can decide what to do or what path to take and it's kind of wigging me out at the moment. When I have things figured out (ha!) or at least have made a move, I'll let the internet public know, as I'm sure they're sitting on the edge of their seats in suspense.
To put my life in perspective, there have been a few highlights this week:
- after a couple of weeks of crazy cd testing, I'm almost done with this year's edition of the project that pays my rent. This is due in great part, indeed probably 95%, to my kick-ass programmer and his team - this
is the fucking awesome place to turn to if you, dear reader(s), have techno projects. It's so nice to work with people who are not assholes.
- a long, long time ago in a previous life as a brunette I was an academic (seriously, the Doctor almost was a doctor). As such, I published an article in a essay collection on Thomas Mann's Tod in Venedig
and then basically forgot the thing ever existed. Whilst googling myself recently (yes, I am that fucking vain) I discovered that on last year's Abitur
exam in Hamburg, students could write about my essay. For the German speaker(s) amongst my reader(s), here's the link
(scroll down to Aufgabe III
). It's so weird. Something I wrote is considered intellectual. I can think of many adjectives to describe myself, but intellectual is not one of them. For crying out loud, I can't even pronounce Kyrgystan correctly (although I do know where it is!). If only those poor kids knew how I've ended up - almost 33 years old and blogging about having existential, woe-is-me crises.
- the stress I've been under has had one positive aspect. My body's rocking, if I don't say so myself. I tried on a pair of pants today (I needed a mental break from thinking and retail therapy is helpful for things like this) and I fit into a size 36. A 36, people (that's a European 36, not US - a US 36 is just a very scary thought). I'm thin! For once in my fucking life I think I'm thin! Yay! Now I'll probably go back to Kansas for Christmas and gorge the weight right back (Note to self, number bajillion: but if I drink and smoke enough while in the states, I can offset the junk food cravings. Pack lots of Gauloises. Skaterbol
: buy lots of wine).
More later about what I'm looking forward to in Kansas (trying to think "glass half-full") and stuff I want and might just fucking buy (thank you German tax office for giving us money back this year) because consumerism could possibly be key in solving my silly crisis.
Oh, and by the way, why is it that the likelihood, as expressed in a percentage, that in a bus of 50 passengers the smelly crazy one will sit next to me over 90%? Is there something about me that says, hey, you over there, you smell like you haven't taken a shower in 3 months AND you're a schizophrenic off your meds? Then next to the Doctor's where you wanna be? I don't think so!