Bite Me, Jason Mraz!

There it was - this morning, nearly 8 of the clock - the famously infamous Blast From The Past.
Right in my bedroom, right in my face, straight out of Compton.
KIDDING.
But come it did - from the air waves right into mine ears, jump-starting that memory of yours truly.
I'd be lying if I claimed that it did not stop me in my tracks momentarily - such is the way of blasts in general, no? So I stood in my knickers, listening to Mraz's Jason wax poetic about starting to live sans souci and love and be loved and what have you.
Oh, the sweet agony in the general heart region.
I remembered listening to that song in days long forgotten and thinking about the person that held a place in my heart just to end up tearing it and thus becoming the face on the bull's eye of my dart board of loathing and destruction.
And I found myself - as I have been known to do quite regularly of late - wondering what went wrong and at what point in time did that downhill journey start.
I am unable to pinpoint the exact date, day, moment. Such is the way of things of the past, I believe.
Yet more and more I feel that both of us were to blame equally. After things had ended, it was easier to seek him out as the one who ruined it all.

Now I think it was more a matter of two souls not really made for each other.
We met at a time in our respective lives that each of us found difficult to handle. And we sought solace and comfort. And that is what we found, in the beginning. We talked about fears and insecurities and before our eyes there the other's pain unfolded and it was strangely familiar and heartbreaking in the devastation it brought. And with that came a feeling of mutual understanding and trust. And then a fondness growing into affection. And some fierce need to keep the other close to get through the things that ailed us both. "Close" of course was difficult, us being apart some 400km. Thank God for phones and Skype and E-mail.

It is making me sad writing about this now. Perhaps it is self-pity. But there is also genuine sadness about it all. You start unwrapping that shiny present that is the other and after a while most of the layers are gone and more and more you realise what is underneath is not quite what you expected. Sure, relationships are work and it is easy to forget that when you're busy unwrapping and you are excited and you hold the other dear. You find all that you uncover interesting to the nineth, you can relate or seriously try to. You talk it over. You see their point. You join their team. You make such a fucking effort it almost hurts - only it is effortless.

In time though, the excitement wanes and with it the understanding, the happiness to go with it all, to accept things the way they are. The everyday stakes more and more claims. Unnoticed at first as you are too busy with each other to really see anything else for the brightness that illuminates everything around you. This is not made any easier by the fact that a certain immediacy is missing which is part and parcel of the long distance relationship.
For some it works - all that distance-makes-the-heart-grow-fonder. For me? It did not in the end.
My heart grew resentful and hard. 
I shall stop here.

Need to get some crying done.
Possibly some gorging of chocolate.
Thanks Jason! Really, thank you so much! You couldn't have wrecked my day more thoroughly even if you tried.
Why? Well, for starters even IF it is our god-forsaken right to be loved, loved, loved what's a gal to do when there's not so much as a smudge on the love radar. And when there's the sneaking suspicion that there won't be in the near future.
And THAT thought, my dear Jason? THAT hopelessness, is rather too much on this February afternoon.
Right, now I have to do one more thing before crying and stuffing my face with chocolate. I have to get that fucking song out of my head.
Thanks again, asshole!

She's so pretty

Can't Let Go

Last night I made true on my promise/threat to take down the leftovers of last year's Christmas decorations at last. House elf revealed himself to be somewhat of a traditionalist and cainophobe, the latter describing a person with a phobia of all things new and unknown, of changes in general - didn't know that, did you. Well, to be honest, I did not know either and to have this manifest itself in this here Nisse, took me by surprise. 

We argued over an hour about whether all-year-round Christmas decorations could be the next big thing. I told him I did not see that happening anytime soon. 

Suffice it to say that elf was not in the highest of spirits afterwards, thus withheld all co-operation (not that there was much to begin with) and attempted to sabotage my packing efforts with all his might. I did not want to cross said elf - last time I did, my hoover broke down. This was considerably more serious in the bigger system of things and I cannot afford to make enemies right now - remember my ass-the-size-of-the-moon problem, the general lack of a love interest in this chapter of my life, the up-in-the-air feeling I have when I think of my job situation - you see my problem... So no, I cannot handle devious flatmates on top of that. I have too much fabulousness going on in my fabulous life as it is. As I am my elf's keeper I sat him down and explained in kind and gentle words that Christmas once was very much about waiting and preparing oneself, that originally it was part of a season of quiet, darkness and secrecy, of being kind to others and putting said others first without making a big song and dance about it. 

He simply looked at me like I was demented and retorted indignantly that he KNEW that, thank me very much! It was sort of his JOB to KNOW that and live accordingly. 

Upon my question what the hell his problem was exactly, he simply answered that Christmas once a year was not enough. 

Christmas was of course code for goodwill and kindness. I shall not now go into his tirade about the general lack thereof the rest of the year. What with the rushing and buying and stressing and fretting and trying to be ever bigger and better and simply more - a race that reached its climax at precisely Christmas - he felt that mankind was not on a good path. Well, doesn't take a genius, does it, to work that one out. 

Anyway, we agreed that the decorations needed to come down at some point and last night was as good a time as any after Christmas. 

We also agreed that the SPIRIT of Christmas is not something that should go up and down with boughs of holly and baubles and candles and wreaths of ivy and bits of mistletoe and what have you. 

So go out and spread some Christmas cheer all year round, you little Scrooges. 

I know - once again I have set the world's moral compass due north. 

You're welcome.

Yoga Elf

Nisse is all for self-improvement these days. Me not so much. In fact, I believe I am as good as I am ever going to get, no room for improvement here, nor sir.

Yes, I am that brilliant. In fact I am genius on a stick, wit on legs, my style and grace is bottled and sold to the highest bidder.

House guest begs to differ. Am ignoring him. 

Told him to be VERY nice to me if he wants to keep up that 5 AM chanting and not get thrown out of window some cold and rainy morning. Casually mentioned he is not miraculously turning into Buddha himself, just because he crosses his legs. His girth I informed him is not proportional to his level of enlightenment. He's ignoring me. 

A lot of ignoring going on in modern household of mine...

Very mature.

Very Zen.

What I Really (Really REALLY) Want

is to be slim and toned and financially comfortable, lucky in love, healthy, content and with a quiet mind and detached from all the silly things that tend to get in my way to serenity and wisdom - you know Zen-Goddess Greek Style with a hint of all around good person.

Did you notice how outward appearance comes before anything else?
I am shallow.  What else is new?

Hm, remember this person I had been pining for? Remember that I wrote how I understand now that we are to remain acquaintances, nothing more, and that that was ok?
The universe lent me a hand and sent him my way once more the other day.
It was an unexpected visit and it took me by surprise how ok I was with him showing up like that. I am not going to lie, my heart still skipped a beat but quickly calmed again - and amazingly that was that.
I did not spend the weekend obsessing, hoping for whatever.
I was happy that he was fine. And I believe he felt the same about me.

Do you know that is quite a nice feeling.
Makes you go all warm and fuzzy inside.

Well not really - I am not bloody Mother Theresa
And we all know - the next mistake is probably just 'round the corner, but think of the escapades and drolleries. Being unlucky in love is so much more entertaining for the innocent bystander.

Fabulous Ass

is getting fatter. Is now nearing size of full moon.
Soon will be in a direct competition to La Lune (does that sound like a tranny hooker name?) 

Need to figure out lighting arrangements - powerful yet environmentally friendly.
Thoughts? 

Aaaand We're Off

Sent application this morning.
Now waiting and seeing. Sadly, waiting and seeing doesn't burn ANY calories.
Looks like I have to go back to the gym. Get my fabulous ass off my chair. Switch Greek Goddess mode back on.

God. That already sounds like so much work.