Goddag! Jag älskar dig!

It's interesting how people react to the fact that you're Swedish. They thow the phrases they know at you, or tell you about the bands or carbrands they know of, and in some cases they have long monolouges about the very cool cars in Västerås (raggarbilarna!) that meet every year and that Miss Julie is on in Dublin and all sorts of things.

Well, I think that the above was the best reaction so far though. We were out for one on thursday and I happened to be talking to the bartender a bit. When he found out I was from Sweden he said "goddag!", and "Jag älskar dig!". Now this is maybe not the most practical phrases to know in a language. I answered "But we just met!" wich made him a bit embarrassed I think. I kept talking to him though, and I also returned the day after. There's just something with bartenders, I don't know why. Cute bartenders especially.

So friday was fun, or would have been fun if everyone wasn't so very tired (and sitting at the back close to the fireplace didn't really help, especially since everything got covered in soot). Also, unexpected company showed up and started talking to me like we were old friends, not two people who dated some time ago untill he ended it with a textmessage. He had no obligation to do it in any other way, but it was unexpected and hello, text. Anyhow, he asks me if I left a hoodie at his place, wich I didn't. "Are you sure?" "Yes, it was probably someone else." "Really sure? A grey hoodie with like pockets and stuff..." "Well give it to me if you really want to" "Sure!" "Yeah, well, you have my number." He didn't respond to that. What the? What does he mean by this? And then he keeps talking about architecture and travelling and how he likes the smell from the fire and my god and then he just leaves. I don't understand men. At all.

Well, cute bartender guy did cheer me up by asking me out (even after I shouted "I'm just so tired of... Guys!" while he was standing right behind me) but we did leave quite early to go over to Dave's and fall asleep in front of Rocky Horror.

Today is saturday, the sun is shining, we're all awake and not very hungover and we're going into town to spend all of our brand new shiny money. I am going to buy some presents, and possibly a sweater. Glorious. I think maybe washing the soot of first might be a good idea though. Tonight I think we're just watching movies or possibly going for one, and tomorrow we're going to Limerick! Yay.

The bottom line then: All men are assholes, if not to me then to someone else. The date seemed like a really nice guy, and he was clearly a total dickhead. Some other bartender in some other part of the word might be wonderful towards me, but I have a distinctive feeling that he might be treating someone else, who happens to be in the same country as him, a bit crappy. And the cute bartender who's number I happened to have will probably turn out to be an asshole as well, but I'll give him the benefit of a doubt for a while.

Do androids have nightmares of electric raptors?

Cause I had nightmares about pretty real ones tonight. I tried to hide but I new I had to run, run and keep running, don't look back just run. But I tried to hide. Behind a small table. A sofa table. Very... un-concealing.

There where so many raptors. Big, scary, slimy raptors. I just knew Jurasic Park would come back to haunt me one day. ("Clever girl..." Famoust last words.)

I the end I think there might have been raptor-bbq but that was only one of them, the bottom line was that I was never safe. Ever.

Raptors man, raptors.

Today was a kind of shitty day at work, 99.9% of all the customers where pissed off and I was tired. I made good soup (fish, lentils, carrots, potato, tomato, chilli and orange) for Hannah and Amalie (and poor Maria is alergic to fish and ate pasta) and almost cried to Grey's Anatomy 'cause that show is so fucking miserable! They're all just so bloody miserable all the time! Sheesh.

Raptors.

just kidding

There was an easy-to-remeber adress to my pixbox, sorry. http://CookieKitten.pixbox.se.

further thoughts

It hit me that this thing with rejection is very much about feeling stupid for trusing someone. Feeling small and naive and a bit pathetic for believing. Believing in yourself for a little while.

Don't get me wrong now, I do believe in myself. But theres a cold shadow of a doubt, the doubt of a fourteen year old girl, a very naive girl, that stirrs inside upon the total rejection of a lover, actual or hoped.

I do reject as well, but never as harshly as the latest two times I have been rejected myself. Or at least I hope not. This is not about my feeling for the people who reject me, this is about my feeling about being rejected in general. I have to admit that if I'm down it's not because of this, and I'm not really down, its mostly philosophical ponderings.

Apart from stupid it makes me feel angry, most of all angry. What right do people have to make me feel for them and then turn their backs? What right to make me feel stupid? Then again. All of a sudden I realize I've rejected poor defenceless people worse than this. People who beleived in me. That makes me feel naive too though. Not powerful or respected.

With these thoughts I bid you goodnight, but first I want to encourage all my readers to check out my new picure-posting place, pixbox, where my photos will be posted from now on. Unfortunately without an easy-to-remember direct adress. But on the other hand accessible to people who are not part of the great machinery known as Facebook, the great monster of subtle copyright theft. Feel free to do the rss-thing. And remember - all my photos (as well as everything else I create) - are copylefted.

(poll)

Okay, I just want an opinion. I'm going to colour my hair, should I go for darker or lighter?

Shadows

Saturday night turned out a bit to wet but all in all it was lots of fun. I should've skipped that last bottle of red wine though, sunday was harsh. So so harsh. But the upside was that I in the extremely drunken state I (helped by Amalie) arrived home in managed to take my contacts out and fall into bed without washing off my makeup. And late sunday afternoon my new eyeshadow still looked perfect! Thank you Urban Decay!

Apart from that, everything about the house goes straight to the house blog, no longer seventh heaven, only 22 Vicar now.

And when it comes to me, I'm still wrestling, and I realized I cope very badly with rejection. I guess everyone does, but it's so much harder when it's completely unexpected. It really gets to me. So I'm wrestling all these different things, unwelcome emotions that cast their shadows on my otherwise so bright day. I'm not feeling lonely, I don't long for any companion, temporary or lifelong, I don't want anyone to share stuff with, I'm completely happy having my bed to myself!

So why, for heavens sake, do I still miss? Why do I think about people that I know are not interested, or to emotionally fucked up, or simply just in the wrong country? I think it's just about the fact that I can't handle the rejection. That the fact that I am unwanted, and so badly unwanted that I'm not even worth being personally informed of this, is more painful than the actual loss of the people who reject me. Not so strange I guess, no one likes being harshly dumped. And if you feel like going Freud on me I guess it can be traced back to my childhood (no names mentioned).

The thing is, the person I miss the most has'nt really rejected me. But I still miss him.

Dont let the dream come true

I don't know where the phrase comes from but it's been in my head all day, along with "don't go wasting your emotions", is that ABBA or something? Suiting though, I'm wrestling my emotions a lot right now. I feel so much more than I want to. I don't want to miss, or feel at all, but I do, very much. Probably just PMS, but it feels real enough. So I'm searching for reasons to not feel, and the reasons arent enough, and drinking chocolate milk with wiskey makes me share to much.

I keep telling myself that there are plenty of reasons not to fall.