An angsty one-shot for your day. I stayed up way too late to write this.

CW- drinking

Aelin keeps the letters stacked neatly on her desk.

Each letter is stamped, addressed, and ready to mail. In tiny marks on the back, she writes the date every individual one was written. The envelopes are his favorite shade of green. A deep, pine color that she’d painstakingly scoured every stationary shop to find.

Delicately, Aelin seals the latest envelope and adds it to the growing pile.

My Love,

It’s almost winter here in Orynth. I know it’s your favorite season and you are probably sad to miss out, so I took a Polaroid of the clouds coming in over the staghorns for you.

Do you remember how we’d sit in front of Mistward every year and watch the first snow storm come in over the peeks? We would drink hot chocolate and talk for hours. About our families, our futures, anything and everything. It’s still one of my favorite traditions.

In fact, it’s where I am right now. Writing this letter to you. Just because you are overseas doesn’t mean you get to bail out. I bought two hot chocolates, but I suppose I’ll have to drink yours for you. What a shame.

Writing to Rowan was her weekly tradition since he got deployed. No matter how busy life got, every Friday she wrote him two full pages front to back. Whether she got to sit at her desk or had to scribble against the rusty bench at the bus stop, every inch was covered in her hand writing.

That was her personal rule. They had to be handwritten. Aelin felt it meant more that every piece of the letter was entirely from her. So she keeps a collection of colored pens handy for whenever the urge to speak to her husband grows to be too much.

At the bottom of the last page, next to her signature, Aelin always kisses the paper with red lipstick. Maybe it’s cheesy, but it’s the same shade she wore at their wedding.

You could see the ghosts of the color along his jawline in their favorite photos together. His beaming smile, the smudges of red on his face and the collar of his white dress shirt. A remnant from the happiest day of her life she thought would bring him comfort.

My love,

Winter is here! It’s so cold outside. You would say it’s this frigid every year, but it just feels different this time. Maybe it’s because you aren’t hear to snuggle up with and your side of the bed is empty? You were always so warm.

I keep your slippers by the couch. They are ridiculously huge on my feet, but I swear they still feel like you just walked in them. Your warmth is still there.

You would laugh if you saw me hobbling around the apartment in them. My toes slide all over the place. Truthfully, your feet are atrociously large, dear- Still they remind me of you, so I love them.

Aelin gets home late from work that night.

Humiliated tears sting her cheeks, even as she rubs them away. The feeling of that creep, Cairn’s, hands lingering on her ass.

She was used to fending off handsy patrons. What bothered Aelin is that when she complained to her boss, Erawan, he publicly berated her for instigating the customers.

None of the other waitresses would meet her eye when she looked for back up. Grave, the bartender, sniggered through the entire dressing down. Aelin could still feel their eyes on her skin as Erawan accused her of being provocative.

Rowan would have demanded she quit the job. He would have marched down to the bar and broken Cairn’s face. Possibly even held him back so Aelin could do it herself.

Aelin needs the money, though. Rowan’s accounts were frozen due to some stupid technicality at the bank. Without her paycheck, she would lose the apartment.

Sniffling, Aelin slides her feet into Rowan’s slippers and plops at her desk. It isn’t Friday yet, but she’s desperate to speak to him.

As her hand flows across the paper, Aelin knows she won’t describe the days events to him. He’s under enough stress without her work drama adding to his worries.

My love,

Yulemas is next week. Aedion is in Caraverre with Lysandra and our new nephew. Lorcan and Elide are going up from Perranth to stay with them, but the roads are so frozen in Orynth I may just stay here this year.

Besides, work is busy right now. They need someone to man the place for the people with nowhere to go for the holidays.

Maybe I’ll host a little celebration at the bar. Like we did that one year when we got stuck in the Hostel in Rifthold. We made the best of a bad situation, and it was the first time you told me you loved me. I think I’d like to relive a little of that this year.

I miss you. Please come home.

Aelin lays in her bed the night before Yulemas and sobs.

Ugly, guttural noises spill from her chest and she soaks their pillows with tears. The newest envelope is clutched against her chest, and the building stacks mock her from their spot across the room.

Her heart is so raw. Aelin knew it was a bad idea to count the letters, but there was so many. Curiosity got the better of her, and now she was bleeding for her mistake.

Fifty-six.

A full year of letters she hadn’t been able to send.

Rowan had only ever written her twenty before he was declared missing in action.

A year ago, she’d been hanging bobbles and decorating a tree knowing her husband only had a few weeks left of his tour.

Aelin had painted a welcome home banner, and her whole family made plans to come and spend the holiday with the soon-to-be-reunited couple.

She had his slippers waiting by the door. Rowan’s favorite blanket was laundered and folded on his side of the bed in case he wanted to lay down. Aelin had it on good authority that the bed would be one of the first places they visited when he arrived. Emerys had even given her a mixture of their favorite hot chocolate to make.

Everything was perfectly in place for his return.

That’s what when the soldiers arrived at her door and her world fell apart.

Lorcan came home a week later. He hugged Elide and she cried into his shoulder. Happy tears. So unlike the ones Aelin had been shedding. Her friend beamed ear-to-ear, as the love of her life gathered her into his arms and squeezed.

It was a touching sight, but Aelin could feel the hot knife being twisted in her chest. Elide’s happiness caused her physical pain, and it made her feel so selfish. She didn’t begrudge Lorcan his life, or Elide her joy- Aelin just missed her own husband.

Elide and Lorcan spent Yulemas together. Kissing and holding hands. Lysandra finally announced her pregnancy. Aedion’s expression when he opened the box with the baby onesie inside was priceless. Her cousin whooped and hollered, almost dancing with the prospect of becoming a father.

Aelin smiled. She gave her congratulations and celebrated with her family. They hugged, and laughed. Aedion took care to include her in everything, and she played her part even as she tried to ignore the concerned looks her family exchanged behind her back.

Aelin made it to lunch before she couldn’t take it anymore.

Fenrys was the one to find her having a panic attack on the bathroom floor. She hadn’t even known it was a panic attack. Aelin just assumed the pain of losing her soulmate was finally killing her. The tightening of her chest and the body aches felt enough like a heart attack to be convincing.

He gathered Aelin in his arms and counted breaths with her. His twin brother Connal was lost in the same fight where Rowan had gone down. Fen had seen the whole thing from the cockpit of his plain, and nothing he did could’ve saved them.

He shared his pain, and for the first time Aelin felt like someone understood her.

Fenrys let her lean on him as they excused themselves from the celebrations. They drove to some bar in Caraverre and spent the rest of the day wallowing over whiskey.

Aedion came to collect their drunken asses later that evening. Worry etched into every line of his kind face. It only made her feel ashamed that she’d rained all over their happy day.

He was going to be a father, and she’d forced him to spend his time fretting over her instead of reveling in that news.

Now here she was a year later. Aelin wasn’t going to subject herself to that again. Couldn’t. She wouldn’t force her grief upon anyone else this year, either. Just because she was hurting didn’t mean that everyone else had to suffer with her.

So, as Yulemas Eve came, and before she could finally distract herself with work, Aelin pulled Rowan’s blanket over herself. She’d spritzed it with his cologne, donned his shirt, and pulled his socks over her feet. Aelin did everything she could to feel surrounded by him.

Then, alone in their bed, she watched as the clock ticked down to midnight.

Rowan,

Wherever you are, I hope my words reach you and that you know you aren’t alone. I wish with every ounce of my being that I could trade places with you- would give anything, just to know where you are.

It breaks my heart, to be without you. Every breath seems pointless. I lied in my last letter. The roads aren’t frozen. I’m not needed at work. No one really needs me to be around them. I just couldn’t spend another holiday surrounded by happy people when the other half of my heart is gone from me.

When you come home, I will feel like celebrating again. I’ll wrap my arms around you, and we can make up for lost time. Just please, don’t make me wait too much longer.

Merry Yulemas, my love. We will be together again one day.

Until then, I’ll keep on writing, only so long as you don’t yield.

Sincerely, your loving wife

Aelin

Staying in an abusive space in the current situation is... hard

With Covid-19 and the current situation of the world, having to stay in an abusive place because it is the safest option is very difficult for me. So i thought i might share my thoughts here like i always do.

About a month ago, i decided i would leave and even though i have no money or energy left, i started actually physically looking for jobs and hostels where i can stay. It all happened after a very bad day and me finally getting the courage to tell my friends that i can't do this anymore and i want to leave. I might make another post about all that but just know that my friends are amazing and i don't know what i have done to deserve their love.

In the midst of me scraping little pieces of strength from my being and stacking them up and feeling like i might be able to do something while the emotional abuse continued... the govt. told us all to stay at home. Oh! If only i had one. My classes got cancelled and now are online (going to class was my way of finding a little peace in a day), i never got any call back from the job interviews i gave and i don't know if they didn't want me or are just not calling anyone cuz of the epidemic.

Life has been stuck for the past 2 years, i was just breathing and even that was hard... now i finally tried to get up and this happened. Life seems stuck again. Everything is dark again and i can't get enough motivation to even prepare or study properly for class.

On one side, my brain is thankful because if i had left when i was gonna i might not have even been healthy rn, i would have no resources to help me and i am not even gonna go into the whole "my family would definitely black mail me into coming back and then keep me in chains forever".

Right now, my brain is trying to be very selfish, i have food, shelter, and no need to leave this "safe space" for some time. I can try whatever i want to after this situation gets under control. I have lived 28 years with them in this hell... what's a few more weeks?

But, i can't breathe. This place is my hell and no matter how safe from the virus it is it is still hell. And i can't handle being with them and acting like all is fine... it is making my soul vomit up fragments of memories i can't handle rn and at the same time making my brain procrastinate to the extreme from doing anything productive even when i try my hardest.

I am swimming in this weird pool of blurred confusion where i can see both anger and hatred swirl around me but i can't move my hands to touch the feelings. It's like my brain knows i need to stop everything and just breathe again cuz the strength i gathered to leave is depleting fast. I can't sleep again, my brain keeps itching, everything is wrong... ughh

I am trying to be productive, but i can't go outside which literally saved me (classes and walking). I decided to take some online courses to prepare for some jobs but i can't even do my homework rn. I hate myself like this... not only i can't do anything to help the world... i can't even help myself. And everytime i talk to them feels like i am a two-faced liar because i talk as if nothing ever happened.

And then again, dunno because my brain has put a cover over all feelings or maybe it is dying too, i feel empty... broken beyond repair but walking around just fine. I can't feel anything properly. I hate this. I hate this more when i see myself complaining when the world is falling apart. Who am i to... i am just one tiny spec of dust when compared to the world... i am not important enough to be saying things like oh! It's hard. Like the world is burning and i am sitting here crying about my little unimportant in comparison issues... i always do this... never helping the world in any way ever...

NOTE: please know that i understand most people have it harder than me and that i should be thankful that i have a roof over my head and clean food to eat. I can see my privilege and am thankful for it. The reason for this post is not to complain or insensitively ask people to look at my small personal issues in the face of a worldwide disaster and i pray we all can stay safe and healthy and that this epidemic dies down quickly. The reason for writing this is to make a written record of my current feelings as i am feeling very much confused and can't really put my feelings into words (just writing this post had me wanting to pull my eyes out)... I just want to explain how being emotionally abused but having to stay with the abusers 24/7 is like. Tumblr is my safe space and i can say many little things here which i might not be able to say any where else. If you think this post is hurtful to someone or should not exist please message me and i will take it down.

He dumped me on the night we went to see his favourite band playing live, cca three years ago. It took me years to move on, I never actually managed to forget him until two weeks ago when i met his late gf, whom he shagged after me, and then started shagging both of us the same time. Two timer.

So i met her and we kind of became good friends, and once she opened up, told me all the dirty little lies he told about me, gifts he given me (how degrading he was like about me "Oh I bought her this cheap shit, but she likes it so it's fine).. He moved to my hometown without telling me (we were planning to move there anyways), begged me to visit him and I was like, Okay, can do, so I can see my parents too. He told this back behind my back as I was begging him to visit, and that I was portraying him in in a bad way in front of the cheap hostel whore he started to have a thing with, he said stuff about me like 'She made me look bad in her eyes, I am disappointed in her'. I let him to stay in my bedroom in my parents house, My parents took him out of dinner yet he shagged someone else behind my back. On the morning my eyes have been opened he sent me some bullshit message about he had a dream with me. My response was that 'I cannot talk to you anymore' and blocked his ass.

Years of anxiety, tears, self destruction, thanks to this one selfish cunt.

I hope you fucking get this back from life, you piece of shit! I hate you, My parents hate you, and so do my fiends. Don't you ever come near to me or you'll regret!

Regrets, I Have a Few....

Feeling unsettled about your completely transformed life with your newborn? Wishing that you could wave a magic wand and just go back to the way things were? You could be suffering from WHID Syndrome.

Which of course, is a completely fictional, unrecognised condition - but as everyone seems way more comfortable if a new mum’s feelings can be labelled as something, then let’s call it WHID or What Have I Done Syndrome for now.

Throughout pregnancy I was told countless times about this overwhelming rush of love that I would feel upon meeting my new baby. By the time my due date was approaching, I’d imagined what this amazing rush would be like. I suspected that if it didn’t arrive the second he was born, then it would catch me up later. I’d be doing something fairly mundane like hanging out washing, or perusing varieties of digestive biscuits in Tesco when all of a sudden this luminescent, ethereal figure would descend from the sky, sprinkle me with magical dust and I’d get this amazing glowing feeling that would leave me tingling from head to toe. Once I’d been sprinkled, I’d know I’d felt “it” for sure and I would never see, hear or feel things in the same way ever again. I would then spend the next few years floating around in this loved up, post-partum haze of joy.

And then he arrived. Ta-daaaa! And all I felt was knackered, emotionally hollow, and like someone had punched me in the fanny whilst wearing a knuckle-duster.

But I wasn’t too concerned about the absence of the love dust at first. It’ll all come after you’ve had a bit of sleep, they assured me. So I slept….nope, still nothing. Sore fanny – check.  Knackered – check. Emotionally hollow – check. And that was it.

For the next few days I just stared with bewilderment at this tiny human who I suddenly found myself sharing my life and my boobs with, feeling a steadily growing, rather uncomfortable mixture of resentment, regret and…well, just nothing much else really. Where was this massive thunderbolt that was supposed to happen? Wasn’t this thunderbolt/magic dust/rush of love the only thing that would help me get through the trauma and the sleep deprivation and all the crying? Why had Mother Nature fucked up my order?

I turned to my trusted pal Google for some answers, creating a browsing history that would surely have seen me on Trafford Social Services watch list had it fallen into the wrong hands;

Not bonding with newborn

Don’t feel love for new baby

Hate new baby

Missing old life post-baby

Regretting having baby

British Airways flights to New York (yes really – at 3 am one morning, I contemplated a flit to another country as an actual feasible solution to all of this!)

A trusty internet search engine can normally solve most modern day problems, from what the fuck “on fleek” actually means, to how to cook the perfect Beef Wellington. However on this occasion it just wasn’t coming up with the goods. Nobody else seemed to be in the same place as me, feeling vast amounts of nothingness, mourning a life left behind and just generally feeling, well, a bit sad.  

Everybody else on the internet was either having very serious feelings on a clinical scale, or else they were more loved up than Hacienda-goers circa 1992. Why was there no middle ground?

Let’s start first with those happy, loved up baby-bearers. Social media was full of friends, acquaintances and celebrities who’d had babies around the same time as me, but nobody seemed to be finding it that hard to adjust. In stark contrast, the rest of the childbearing world seemed to be cracking on very nicely with new parenthood thank you very much. I trawled through all the Instagram pics of smiling mums in fresh pyjamas, clutching their new additions with grins as wide as their c-section scars. Every hashtag compounded the fact that I was clearly just crap. Each #Blessed felt like a smack in the face. My hashtag would’ve said #thisisfuckingshit

Then there were the people who were at the other end of the spectrum. I read article after article about that condition that I might’ve had but dare not speak its name in case it came true. It was like Candyman – if I said Post Natal Depression out loud then it might just appear. Did I have PND? I didn’t think so, but I wasn’t deliriously happy about the arrival of my baby, so surely I fell into this category? Did I have to pick a side? After a week of going through symptom checklists I eventually came to the conclusion that I probably didn’t have it for a variety of reasons. And so I continued, and just got up each day, cared for my baby in a functional way, but felt no connection whatsoever with him because I just wanted my old life back.

I was one of the lucky ones, I was reminded. I’d had a textbook birth, which resulted in a beautiful happy healthy baby boy, I should be happy. I should be grateful. Didn’t I know about all the people who longed to have what I’m so nonchalant about? Of course, I knew this was true, but it still left me unable to explain why I felt so empty about everything. The only answers I could find lay in chat room discussions at ridiculous hours of the morning, because let’s face it – 4am is the witching hour of the new parent! I discovered a myriad of mummies (and a few dads as well) who were speaking out about how they felt about the arrival of their new baby and – just like me – they weren’t particularly over the moon about the disruption, the chaos or the sleep deprivation that had been thrust upon them. One mum wrote something like “We planned our baby, she is well cared for and loved but I wasn’t prepared for how much she would dominate our lives. I continually find myself missing how things used to be and feeling I’ve made a huge mistake that can’t be undone now.” Another lady described it as all the pieces of her life being thrown up in the air and falling back down in a random mess that she just didn’t recognise.

Yes, I thought! This is me, and exactly how I feel! As I read further, more and more people were saying the same thing. Once someone started off sharing, it gave courage to all the others that were previously afraid to speak. Here we all were at 4am - Selfish Arseholes Anonymous. One mum of a three week old baby owned up to having a packed suitcase full of essentials in her car boot, ready for the day when it all got too much. 

But just like my unbooked flight to New York, she never quite made it either. Once the murky mists of sleep deprivation had passed, and once the 4am outpourings had been shared we all had one thing in common; we all got up in the morning and carried on. We fed, we changed nappies, and we tried to do our best to keep our new hatchlings alive and well for another day. And whilst we did it we probably cried a bit, or shouted at our partners, or possibly even both because deep down we were wishing we could just go out for a spontaneous run, or nip to the pub, or sit down and watch TV for half an hour completely uninterrupted, and have a brew that we actually manage to drink before it goes cold. I’m fairly sure that nobody ever stares at a shitty nappy thinking they’ve totally won at life. No, we actually feel a bit pissed off and a bit sad that this is our life now for the next few years at least. And actually – what I wish someone had told me is this: It’s OK to feel a bit sad because sometimes, being a parent IS a bit crap and life pre-baby WAS probably much easier!

So if you’re reading this at 4am, staring at your baby and feeling shit that you’re not in the New Mummy Delight Club, and worrying that you might have PND because of this then relax – embrace the diagnosis of WHID Syndrome and be assured that there are some easy ways to treat it:-  

1.       Firstly, accept that it’s pretty normal and that you shouldn’t feel guilty about it. It doesn’t make you ungrateful or a bad person for lamenting over your old life. Your old life was probably a pretty great one involving gin, a disposable income and being able to go for a shit in peace. Well who wouldn’t miss that?!

2.       Keep the channels of communication open with your midwife, your health visitor and your partner/friends/family. Contrary to popular belief, health professionals don’t have social services on speed dial, on standby to whip your baby off you the minute you admit you’re not loving life. They actually recognise that this upheaval is pretty normal. If they (or you) spot anything that just might be PND then they will be able to support you. Similarly your partner or friends might actually be relieved to hear you say “Christ this is grim” and then everyone can drop the façade that becoming a new parent is all just snuggling your baby and eating lemon drizzle cake all day, because it’s actually fucking hard!

3.       Disregard all social media posts that depict the perfect life and the wonders of being a parent. It’s not reality and serves only to make you feel as though you’re doing it all wrong. In the same way that nobody’s Facebook profile picture is ever a photo of them hungover, vomiting into the cat litter tray with their Disney pyjamas on, nobody is going to show the gritty, shitty side of new motherhood which usually involve eye bags you could use for your entire Aldi shop, and the toilet bowl looking like a scene from Hostel every time you attempt a poo. It’s all bollocks, and in the words of Public Enemy “Don’t Believe the Hype”

4.       Do what makes YOU feel normal and ignore the Should Sharks. You know the ones who say things like “Oh, you should go to Baby Massage and get out the house because you need fresh air really” or “Going back to the gym so soon? You really should rest you know, because new mums shouldn’t exercise so soon…blah blah fucking blah!” So go to baby massage, or don’t. Go to the gym, or don’t. Abseil from a building dressed as Batman, or don’t. Stay holed up at home, or go out and paint the town – just find your normal, whatever that happens to be.

I got through the worst of my WHID Syndrome by having frank and open chats with my Health Visitor, staying off Instagram for a bit, and establishing a near-sexual relationship with white chocolate Magnums that lasted most of summer. I’ll never be completely cured though, as WHID is recognised as a chronic condition that will probably stay with you until the day you wave your baby off to Uni and turn his room into a walk-in wardrobe. I’m afraid to say that symptoms can only be managed and not completely eradicated. Things that are known to cause the odd flare up are:

-          Those rare English sunny hot days, which result in the temptation to sit in beer gardens and drink Corona all day rather than breastfeed/be responsible for a child

-          Indie bands from your youth getting their act together for a comeback gig that’s not in your hometown but technically still near enough for you to attend. If you could stay away for the whole night, obviously. Or get really pissed on Red Stripe. Or were able to do Britpop-style bouncing up and down without your uterus falling out in the middle of Leeds Academy.

-          Awareness of purchases that would have once been doable. Admittedly extravagant purchases that would’ve meant beans on toast for dinner until the next payday, but still doable. Sort of. But on maternity pay? Massive LOLZ!!

So when an attack of WHID strikes, allow yourself a bit of wallowing time (anything from an hour to a day is OK, any more than that and you might want to have a chat with your Health Visitor ) and then I’m afraid you’ll just have to suck it up buttercup. That Corona isn’t going to be sipped in the sunshine, that designer bag isn’t coming to live with you, and you might just have to download the band’s latest album on iTunes. Your time will come again, but those things aren’t gonna happen for you right at this moment. You have a far greater and more important task to focus on, and you’re the centre of that little person’s universe. That’s feeling has got to taste better than warm Red Stripe!  

When I came to the new hostel, I was greeted by a very friendly receptionist. She took me immediately to my new room. Which was for me, and me alone. It felt a bit luxurious. It kind of was. I did have, kitchen, toilet and shower - FOR MYSELF! The room itself had a lot of space. I thought that I really deserved it.

A whole hostels decor was modern and cosy. It resembled some sort of hipster place. At least the wooden tables from pellets and other recycled material gave a hint of it. On another side of the building, there was an area for camping trailers, tents and several huts.

The front yard was the most charming place. It had several level sitting areas, it because, the place was down the hill. In between the sitting areas there ware hanging hammocks. Over the front yard, there were a thousand flashbulbs crisscrossing a whole place. In the background would play some Johnny Cash songs or other well known good old songs. I felt relaxed, and there was a lot of foreigners. Therefore, I didn't have to break my tongue trying to speak my own language and feel ashamed for not speaking properly.

Later that evening I went out to smoke. There were very few people. The crisscrossing lights were on. It looked so beautiful, I was mesmerized. I walked around looking at it. A few minutes later, after running up and down like a child. I was finally ready to go to my room. Suddenly, noticed a stranger sitting next to the entrance of the hostel.

(Stranger): - You really like those light? Huh?

(Me): - Well, yeah. They look cosy, and pretty cool too. This kind of decor I have seen only in Greece, in some small garden.

(Stranger): - I guess, they do look cosy.

(Me): - Are you local?

(Stranger): - No, I am from Sweden. You?

(Me): - Well, I am semi-local. I don't live here for the last 7 years. I landed from Denmark, last week.

(Stranger):- So, what are you doing here?

(Me): I am trying to apply for a visa to Japan. I will go there in August for a year. (Some people were passing across me and him, I was about to go in, it was a bit cold. For some unknown reason I decided to sit down). Probably, I should sit down. May I?

(Stranger):-Yes, sure.

At first, he seemed as average, boring guy, even he was swede. From my experience dealing with Nordic people, I always running out of what to say to them, very fast.

This time was not the case. We talked. A lot. It was about everything. It was about all kind of political topics, travels, his job. He did say, that he will look around Vilnius, and then will travel further. I had the same plan (to deliver papers to the embassy and go to Kaunas). That's, how I end up talking with him till almost midnight.

That night, I could not sleep until 6 am. It was cold, the bed was terrible, a noise outside. Somehow, I managed to wake up. at 10 am, I barely rolled out of my bed. Then I made the decision: "

Fuck it, I will stay one more night, but this time, I WILL SLEEP.

" So, I went to reception and paid for one more night. Then I took off to complete my mission: - TO GET MY VISA!A few hours later, I came back to my hostel with all the bags from the station in the hyped mood - "

I got my visa, my mission is done. Now I can go to sleep

!" because I almost fell asleep in public transport. I am about to enter the front door, and guess who do I see!? Same stranger, from yesterday...

I told him my success story about a visa. He was happy for me. After a few more minutes of chatting, I finally, moved inside to find out where I am staying, because it became inconvenient to stand with two backpacks. My shoulders were in pain. The hostel receptionist showed me the room. (

It was a room with 3 bunk beds, and several people already there, some from Greece, some from Lithuania, and god knows what...)

First things first, I NEED A SHOWER AND CLEAN CLOTHES! I started to unpack, and get ready for the shower, I really felt that I need it. I went to women shower, started to undress, suddenly I realized, that I don't know the door code to the room. (because all the rooms had their own door codes). Well, fuck it... I will ask to write down for me in Reception. After a hot shower I got dressed, I wrapped all my stuff into a towel and went down to get a door code. I had absolutely no intention of meeting this stranger, I just wanted to chill. I got the code and went back. The room was full of people. It felt crowded and uncomfortable. Well... Maybe I will wait a bit longer. So I took off to the common kitchen with some food I bought previously. I felt a bit hungry.Guess, who do I meet? That stranger again! He was as surprised as me.

(Stranger): -Are you stalking me?

(Me): - No, are you stalking me?

(Stranger): -Just hungry.

He was making some fancy salad, with nuts and ham. Then tried to boil some quail eggs. The view was amusing. I have never seen anyone trying to make quail eggs. I could not hold myself back but to tease him.

(Me): - Do you know what you are doing?

(Stranger): -Yeah, I am making eggs.

(Me): - Have you tried them before?

(Stranger): -Nop, but I want to try.

(Me): - Good luck with that!

So, we end up talking again. This time about nothing, just chartering. When he finished making his amusing food. I followed outside. It seemed as something appropriate thing to do. Since I had nothing better to do, the room I had to sleep in was filled with people.

We sat down, he offered some beer. (Even It has passed quite some years, I have not touched alcohol ). I accepted his offer "

why not, I did fail to buy actual beer last time due to, this new law, that alcohol is sold only until 8 pm.".

Conversations evolved naturally, with no force or too much force. There was no need to think, what to say, or what not to say. I did not care, really. I am on holiday, I didn't come here to make friends, I just talked.Meanwhile, I forgot about all my tiredness. It felt comfortable and comforting. The stranger was listening with great interest. He was chipping in, with his thoughts and his own experiences. It was simply so engaging, and free to talk. Maybe, also because I was a little drunk. (It does not take long to get me drunk).

Later, conversations became more interesting, more personal. We talked about our families, jobs, interest. He asked me, about my personal life.

(Stranger): -What about your personal life?

(Me): - What is personal?

(Stranger): -Like a boyfriend?

(Me): - I don't like drama. I don't have time for it.

I was not really honest with him. I haven't lied to him, but I didn't say that I have a boyfriend, for the last 5 years. I actually don't know why... Is not like I have something to hide.After the second beer, I came to realize, he is quite handsome. Maybe, because he is quite intelligent, or rather open for everything. I never valued physical appearance, it always looked so empty to me. I always was interested in what is happening in peoples minds.In that particular moment, I saw a lot of potential for more closer chemistry. I was even thinking to myself, If I would be in my early 20's I would sleep with him. I really had to hold myself back not enter the flirting game. Simply, my mature and logical brain cells told me not to complicate things. And if this fate to meet this guy, I will meet him again, maybe in more convenient circumstances. Now, let's just enjoy his company.

But my desire to spend more time with him kept growing. He would listen to me, no matter what I say, or whatever weird shit I would tell him. I reached a point, where I really wanted to pee, but if I will go, I will never meet him again. He will probably get to sleep, and then I won't see him tomorrow. But I had to let go, It was already after midnight, no one around. I can't be that selfish. Before going to our rooms, we agreed to meet for coffee tomorrow.

After a short toilet break, I went to the room. Wait, what? Why are you here? He was there as surprised as me, standing there almost half naked, getting ready to sleep.We said goodnight to each other and went to bed. I could not really sleep, but think, how to spend more time together. I know I had to let him go, but what if he could give me a ride to Kaunas? No... I can't ask for that... It is too much... Damm, I will never meet him again... We will part tomorrow. What if, we just stop somewhere, and camp somewhere together, just to spend more time together. Arghhhhhhhhhh! No! That's, simply wrong... I have to let go and forget about it.So, that's how I fell short on sleep again!

The morning came, my brain was early up. I was staring towards his bed and kept thinking about how I don't want to part him. Just one more conversation! (Now, I felt like a stalker). He finally woke up. I left the kitchen to warm up croissants so we can have breakfast together. At least something, before he leaves.

I came up to the lobby, where fresh coffee was served. He was not there. I turned my back, and he was right behind me.

(Stranger): -Good timing.

(Me): - Yes.

We sat down to eat my prepared breakfast. He started to talk about today's, plans. He mentioned about visiting the market in Gariunai. I pinpointed for him on the map and told him it is in the direction towards his destination. His goal was to reach Poland today. Well, good for you...

Then he asked about plans for today. I told him I am going to Kaunas. He googled it.

(Stranger): - I can take you there.

(Me): - (without any hesitation) AGREED!

Well, what a coincidence... That's what I what I wished for, BUT I WOULD HAVE NEVER ASK FOR IT. After a few cups of coffee, he asked.

(Stranger): - have you packed?

(Me): - Yes, I just need to pick it up. You still need to go to Gariunai. I will show you around.

That's at least a legal excuse to spend a bit more time together. I was sure, he also wanted to spend more time with me, otherwise, he would have never agreed to meet for coffee, or take me to Kaunas.

After picking up my stuff, I went to his car, which was parked just behind, hostel territory. The car had a tiny semi-trailer attachment. Which was ridiculously small to me, but very well organized.I got into his car. We are talking about travels. I could see he is distracted, or simply tired. He almost missed a turn. We reached the market, I showed him more continent place to park, instead of a pinpointed place on the map.

We walk around the market, tasted local goodies. Until, it was really time, to take off.On the way to Kaunas, he would give me this look. I have seen it before. It is when there is chemistry between people or someone you like but you yourself don't know or don't accept yet. Suddenly he said.

(Stranger): -That was turn to Kaunas. I think we are in Kaunas.

(Me): - What!? Already!?

Time flew by in the split second. I hoped to spend just a little more time together. I tried to invite him for lunch, just to stall more time. But he really had to go. We reach the city centre and I got off. Then I offered at least stay in touch via Facebook, but I knew that our paths would never cross again. There is no such thing as fate. If there would, there would not be a need for divorce.There is only lucky coincidences, and logical patterns. If people are in the same building, they are bound to run into each other, so that happened here. But I am happy to run into you. I still have so much to tell you, that's why I started to write this diary, so I won't bug too much, because as you noticed I can be too much.

But It was still amazing to experience, how two extremely different people can bound closely in such a short time. Long ago, I learned to appreciate what I have not to be greedy, so thank you for the time I had with you, even we will never meet again.

Endurance

Courage is being scared to death - and saddling up anyway.

Am now on the opposite road of suicide. The amount of challenges and the height & harshness of the level of my life is so incredible I’m literally interested and excited what i’m able to do even more, or when will be the day when i will actually pass out on the street, because i’m getting quite near it. I’m just forcing myself to keep on walking. Actually walking is what I’ve done lately a lot. Perhaps even more than ever in my life. Definitely. because of my inability to sit for couple of weeks, I’ve been just standing and walking. though the lovely skin on my pretty ass is fine now finally. Still - never going back to sauna! And i’m burning up already without it.

It’s the fever, have had it for .... some weeks now. It all started when things started going down the hill with Mr. Croissant (the French ex-boyfriend i talked about in last entry). This and adding up complications with family and homelessness situation caused me stress-level that i was ultimately unable to eat, not just eat but also threw up plain water. and no, that was not the case of my bulimia. My stomach was aching constantly and only redeem i found in was in drinking some alcohol. Ahh that again! Well if you don’t eat and sleep normally, obviously you going to get Loco a bit, which in my case is not that hard. And since close ones won’t handle it (i really don’t blame Mr. Croissant, i can’t even handle myself sometimes) I do things in my way. In not-normal way. My weird way. Even though I will handle it all in the end, it is odd for other eyes. And because I have rebellious behavior, it’s harder for me to put energy on explaining myself, rather using it more wisely on wielding.

Quite many interesting and annoying symptoms took me one day into a state where i was in such great pains for hours after waking up that i had to call an ambulance. I was at Mr.Croissant’s place that morning. The nurses came and said they have to take me to hospital for tests. On that very moment all I ever wished was someone to be with me. Jesus was out of town and I couldn’t reach anyone. Mr. Croissant decided to not come with me because he needed to sleep. I suppose, for some people sickness is too much to handle. I didn’t see him for a week or so. Had to do all the hospital visit on my very own alone. It was awful. I never said no one really how awful it was. People poking around me and the awful wait in high pains where I wanted to throw up on every second. I guess when you face the harshness of life - you always end up alone. Nobody really fucking cares! But I will always have myself. And since it’s literally impossible to leave your own company - You are the strongest partner You have!

After getting tests done, they diagnosed me with infection and I had to start antibiotics-cure which totally destroyed my immunity, that’s why I’m still running in fever. The melancholy that came with this was even worse. I mean, I was already down in pains, fever, being zombie, not able to eat but forcing myself keeping 9 pills i had to take all together every fucking day in my system was causing me depression more than usually. Obviously because Mr. Croissant was all of the sudden being distant, not talking with me for days and just disappearing in leaving me in a big cloud of question-marks “What are we even anymore?” I finally dared to ask him couple of days ago and got the answer: “Let’s be friends”. Well I don’t know if he just wants to get rid of me but can’t really because I have plenty of my belongings still in his apartment and I’m waiting to get my own home. Maybe he won’t even speak to me after I’m done being homeless. Maybe I’m just paranoid. Maybe he’s just busy and I was simply Too-Much... I hate that I still have feeling towards him and I think about him too much. In a perfect world it would be perfect to remain as friends, but my body has too much of intense memories and it still loves him. Stupid Love! I wish I was an android! Or maybe I am. An alien from The Dark Side Of The Moon! Or maybe I’m just one brain-fucked-up person. Yet... at the same time, I am the Most strongest person I have ever met, read or known about. I am a mess and amazingness at the same time! And I wish to see what i am able to do more. Maybe we just need some time... Time should fix things......? It is just amazing how much a single person could love and hurt you at the same time so much like no one have ever done. And again, I’m not blaming anyone, not even myself. I’ve done blaming myself all the time about all the horrors in the world. Things just happen, and sometimes they fall and break - C’est La Vie!

I think only broken people truly understand other broken people. Meanwhile one of my friend have been a lot of a mental support. I haven’t mentioned him here before so I will call him with a name Hannibal (name changed). He lives in the same block where my brother lives and we often meet in the backyard for a cigarette when I’m walking there from my ‘Polly Pocket’ (a temporary hostel-room i can stay) to get my things. I’ve been doing this wandering around in the city for quite a lot and daily because all of my stuff is in different places, which is super annoying. Anyway, we met already back in winter. He had a brain-damage because of some stupid violent people on the street and now is dealing with his disorders and epilepsy. But he is one amazing person and I love having conversations with him! He motivates me keep on walking and not giving up. And I’m thinking - if he can make it with his disorders - I can make it! And if I can make it - he can make it! He also saved me from drowning suicide attempt last winter, so he have literally saved my life. Hannibal, Andrew, Tiffany, Jesus and few more friends have been biggest motivational supports for me, especially past these weeks, months and even longer. I don’t know how I would have survived without my friends. I love them with all of my heart!

And after everything, everything that has happened and what is still happening and my ever lasting fever, I feel like I’ve evolved so much. I don’t know what is the limit that a person can have in pain and struggle. But I’m definitely testing them. I keep on walking the streets even though with every step I feel like I might pass out and fall. But I keep on setting one foot in front of another and passing meters. Because of my poor eating and waking up early and going to bed late, walking so much, too much. I keep on losing weight. All of my even tiniest dresses have gone loose. Some girls might be happy about losing weight. I am not. It doesn’t also help the fact that I also had to give a test for possible cancer. And have to wait for laboratory results for 9 weeks. I think it’s probably nothing and all cause of stress and melancholy. But it doesn’t mean that deep inside I wouldn’t be worried as fuck about the result. If it will be good - I will be the happiest girl in the world, if it will not..... well - I made a decision to force myself into having as much fun as I can meanwhile. Even though it’s hard because of different symptoms. Today i discovered a new one. I wonder what would be a reason for a person to bleed from an ear?  Next week I will have another doctors appointment and I will run some more tests. Getting poked is annoying but more annoying is to not know what’s going on. 

I have started to appreciate life a lot more. What is the reason and what have I done so wrong that I have to live through all those things? I wonder often.... Maybe it is growing me even more stronger. So controversial feelings with everything. I feel like I have different persons living inside of me. There is that fierce strong me who can jump over anything. A melancholic pocket-kitten. An evil twin who causes mess. A good-kind responsibility girl. Suicidal me which is the harshest, I don’t want to see her anymore. And creative artist with infinite imagination. Kinky ‘Lolita’. And loving person who wishes to take care of someone special. I probably miss mentioning some sides more, but you get the picture - it’s very wide area. I guess that’s why I also sometimes say I have allergy for boredom because I won’t stay in one personality for too long. And that’s why it is very hard to be my partner. I would need a seriously strong person next to me. And I do wish it! A lot! I feel I have so much love and care to give. I want to make somebody very happy. Give attention and care and all the wonderful things I know I’m able to. It works both sides. Taking care of somebody and loving somebody also helps me, because it is one big motivation. So in a way it might sound even selfish. And yet it’s not. The only issue between it is that the magical person would have to deal also with all of my dark shades. And different personalities. So that’s why it would take a super strong person for it. And I have been so naive with so many men. Men who promise me worlds. And never deliver. Who make me believe they can handle me - they can’t. Only I can handle myself. And actually I do that everyday better. Even when every day gets harder - I still deal myself better. And when I’m in control of that - I’m in balance. And when I’m in balance, all those personalities melt into one Grey Red. The one Grey Red I admire. The one Grey Red I am proud of.

I am not afraid of anything else than myself. I’m afraid of the wonders I am actually able to do when I would only have a chance to. 

I push my limits every day. It doesn’t matter how sick I am. Or moments when I feel like giving up. I just can’t, I have things to do, places to be, people to meet. New levels of life to play. Achievements.

Next week I have a photo-shoot coming up. Am excited about this! Have no idea how sick I will be on that day but I know - I will pull it through.

After 1,5 month I will have my Super-Awesome-Bday-Party coming up. My every-year traditional celebrating in my favorite bar The Moon with my wonderful friends and musicians, will also create and perform a stand-up myself. Am very excited about this! This is a big deal for me, because with every birthday I celebrate every year I survived. I can’t believe it all could have ended so much long ago..... yet it haven’t. So this is something to cherish! It so much is!

And I’m also happy for a new eye-candy that walked into my life just when last one got bitter...

I was sitting on the metro station being melancholic, waiting for a metro. Hazy and in fever, when he walked passed me. He looked at me and our eyes met. He stopped and came to me. I saw him for the first time in my life and I knew we both want each other. “You are my Everything!”, he said. “You are my Queen!”

I have a lap and heartful of love to pour somebody over with and if You really love me as much as You say and are that Strong Man I have been looking for - I will make you the happiest person in world! <3

If You can handle me. 

And I love how he treats me. Even though we come from so different backgrounds, there is something about You. I must find you a name. It is too late and I already promised You I will go to sleep. We will see again tomorrow. I can’t wait.

--

I don’t know if I am again being naive, or this is the outcome of my fever which makes me weak. But I need closeness and love. And that’s what I want to give back as well. Too early days, too early. Yet I’m pretty impressed on by quickly things can happen. Well... I will write more about what all happens. I am getting more bold with this. And mostly because I am not afraid of anything else than myself. And myself - I can handle. :)

All in all, I think I’m pretty good. I will keep on forcing myself into doing everything I have to. Will attend all the responsibilities and appointments. Will sort out eventually how sick I am. Or maybe it’s just simply all because of stress, which is very likely. Get over of hurtful feelings and stay friends with actually an amazing Mr. Croissant. as a person. Because even though if things are painful, I can see through all of the shades and see what is behind it. The Good. There must be Good! In life at all, I mean. I think with all of my depressions and melancholy, all of the fever and sickness - I still see Good. That’s the other personality in me that dominates at this very moment right now - In every bad situation - I have ability to see and find something good. See! For example: if i wouldn’t burned my skin in sauna-accident, then i would have not started doing my long walks. Doing my dating with myself in the city and finding new places, new areas, having new thoughts, getting stronger. If I wouldn’t lost Mr. Croissant - I would have never known the amazing him, had the good memories, learned so much about myself and survived also so much, met this new person in the end. If things that happened few months ago would have not happened - i would have not known the pain of it, and the amount of pain I can actually have. The mental and physical. If I wouldn’t be homeless i wouldn’t appreciate little elementary things. If i wouldn’t ended up in hospital because i couldn’t eat, I wouldn’t know how important it is to take care of yourself EVERY day, daily, every second. If i wouldn’t had the 21 days of insomnia, i wouldn’t know how precious can sleep be and how sacred it really is in order to maintain your health and mechanisms. If i wouldn’t been an evil twin-sister and mess things up - i wouldn’t know what I lost and how to cherish and take a better care of them in future. 

This year has been incredibly intense. And i have learned more than ever. I will remain doing mistakes, as we all do. Because we are just simply humans. But I will also remain learning every day as big amounts as i possibly can. And doing and giving my all and the very best I possibly can. No fever can tear me down!

And now - it is time to finally sleep, get some rest. Because tomorrow there are new and a lot of meters to walk. New battles to fight. New fever to win over!

I Love You

Life

So, that was then. After the forgettable childhood, I had the privilege to further studies at UMS (a governmental university kinda), and technically my life really started there. Not exactly sure why I picked the university out of all places, but I guess it was the thrill of seeing new and faraway places that I was almost certain I will never have a chance to visit (back when I thought I could never achieve anything great in life). I was so excited to be there. Everything was new -- the people, the scenery, the way we study. It was the beginning of one of my great many realization: there is more to life.     Soon after, I got to know these two fellows from a church. Oh and did I forget to tell you that I learned about Christianity just the day before I went oversea for further studies? I met a pastor when I was working part time at an optical shop and he introduced me his belief on the day before I flew away, and right after I reached the campus and stepped into my hostel, the first conversation I had was with the two fellows from a church called Hope. I was a very introverted person back then and having conversation with them made me nervous and excited at the same time. Feeling that if they are from a church, they cannot be that bad, and that I do need some new friends here, I gave them my contact number when they asked for it and started my church life for 5 years there. It was such a... journey (I tried to think of a suitable adjective here but failed). It was during the time I at campus and church that I learned to face my flaws and admit my weaknesses, it was at that land below the wind that I learned to open my heart to people and express my feelings, it was where I healed my soul. I would not say that it was wonderful, as I have clear memories of the hurtful things happened during the time (me hurting others and vice versa; mostly me hurting others though). I cannot thank those people enough for what they have brought into my life: the ability to appreciate life, the possibility of knowing joy, the understanding of how important it is for us to support each other in this world, etc. Greatest gifts in my life so far. Well actually they say Jesus is the greatest gift, but I am still trying to figure that out.     Those were the times I feel most important in my life, because important lessons and realization were imparted to me... however it might not be as wonderful it looks for others. It was in that period, I got struck with depression twice self-diagnosed but it was pretty obvious).It was in that period, I had to come to accept that I had always felt insecure and had low esteem. And during my studies I had to extend my academic years because I did not sit for some finals when I was depressed. I gave my family and friends plenty of reasons to worry, and of course some others who weren’t too kind to criticize. I guess for most people, when they learned my history they see me as a laughing stock. What I did and what happened back then damaged my credibility and image. I was weak. Or at least that was what I thought. And unfortunately the sad part of the story did not stop there. I did not instantly become good after those awkward events and started a life that is new and great. Even the moments during my internship and graduation period, they look grey. I was so clueless that I did not know what to believe in anymore. I could pretend that I was normal and can hang out with many friends, but deep down I was in fear. I still did not see a clear path in my life. I could not stop being envious when I see friends around my age seem so sure about their life and career already. And then and then and then, I never really told anyone about it. I did not think anyone could help.     After I graduated, I went back to my hometown for New Year break. Then more stuffs happened. A family member deceased, my mom went blind afterwards. And I used these events as an excuse to stay back. After a few months, my mom completed her surgeries and was able to see again. I got called by a relative from KL, asked if I could work for their company in KL. Thinking that this feels like a convenient exit from my long break and another fresh start in a different location, I took the offer without giving it too much thoughts (which I really should have). And the result is that I had to leave because I really don’t know them much and not sure what plans they have for me. And I couldn’t bring myself to talk it out because I was afraid it might offend them. Not to mention the uneasiness I felt in the office, about why exactly they brought me in and how much of a relative they saw me. I just hate dealing with these emotions, they affect me deeply. In the end I had to admit that I prefer an environment where I can act more objectively. Hence it became another ugly scenario in my life, but it was another big leap for me in terms of life lessons. If I were to ever become a person that is comfortable with myself and also others, I have to be me in every scene of my life. I refused to do so for so many years because being myself all the time is the synonym for ‘selfish’ in my dictionary. I guess my dictionary might be outdated.     Today, I am waiting for the training for my new job to come, it is a job recommended by friends and not one that I would prefer. But feeling that I might learn something new there and it is best not to fool around without a job, I took the offer. I just wish that this time, I will make more good decisions and know when to quit. Until then, I hope whoever reading this is also doing great in your life.

ciao for now, Firenze

What a semester it has been! As I am writing this last post, I am currently back home in the United States with mixed feelings. I am happy to be home where everything feels comfortable. I definitely missed my friends, family, american coffee, chipotle, oh and of course driving my own car. But on the other hand, I do feel a little sad about leaving Florence, the place I got to call home for the last 4 months. After living somewhere for so long, it sort of becomes a part of you and now that part seems to be missing. I made some of the best memories of my life in this city and friendships that will last for a lifetime. The strangest part about all of this is not knowing when I will ever be back or when I will have the chance to see the friends I spent every second of every day with. It’s crazy to think that it’s all over and I will never have this same experience again. It was a once in a lifetime experience but I would not have changed any part of it for the world. 

I cannot even begin to explain how amazing it was to live and go to school in a different country for an entire semester. I love being a student at the University of South Carolina, but being abroad was the perfect change of scenery from my pretty normal life. I got to experience an entirely different culture and see things I wasn’t sure I would ever see in my lifetime. I traveled to new places and countries every single weekend and somehow got school credit for all of it. I was able to visit 9 different countries and 34 different cities. It was the most exciting and exhausting time of my life. Traveling can be difficult and confusing, but these were obstacles that I had to continuously overcome and now I know that I can confidently be in new places and be able to figure out things for myself. Also, after everything has all been said and done, I am so happy that I chose Florence as the city that I studied abroad in. Florence was absolutely the perfect choice for me. It is a small yet beautiful city that sits in the perfect location. Before choosing Florence, Rome was actually my first choice; however, I don’t think I would have liked to be in such a large and busy city. I loved how Florence was completely walkable and I didn’t need to hop on a metro to get from one place to the next. There was also plenty of things to do and see in Florence so I never got bored of being there. Overall, Florence is a stunning city that is rich in history since it is was the heart of the Renaissance. I loved that right outside the city were the rolling hills of Tuscany with all the beautiful vineyards that everyone always thinks about when they think of Italy. Lastly, the location of Florence was great for traveling to other places in Italy as well as for the rest of Europe. Florence is under 2 hours away from Rome, Milan, and Venice by train. In addition, Italy is in a very central location to be able to easily travel to many other European countries. Even though the Florence airport is pretty small, you can also easily fly out of Pisa and Bologna or even Rome and Milan if you had to. Oh and of course, all the Italian food pretty much made Italy the best place to live (pizza, paninis, pasta, wine, gelato galore)! 

So it’s safe to say that studying abroad was pretty much the best semester of my life; but now that I am home, I can also say that I learned more during this semester than any other. What I mean is that I learned more about myself, the world, and so many important life lessons that I could never learn by sitting in a normal classroom. Let me begin. 

The main thing I learned about myself throughout this entire experience is that I really can do anything. Before coming abroad, I was so afraid of the world but I realized that there’s really nothing to be afraid of. No matter where you are or how big you might think the world is, it’s actually pretty small. You’re never lost or never too far from home, or even just the feeling of home. In other words, you can always find a little piece of home in a person or a place. This could be meeting another American in your hostel in Croatia or getting Starbucks in the city centre of Budapest. Little things like these can be so comforting. Throughout the last 4 months, I pushed myself in ways I never thought I could. I noticed myself doing things that would normally terrify me, but I did them with confidence because I was put in situations where I needed to be confident. Now I know that I really can do anything I put my mind to and there’s no reason to hold back from all the opportunity that’s out there. 

Another important lesson I took away from this experience is that the world does not revolve around me. Yeah, yeah, I guess I knew this before but it wasn’t until I was put in situation after situation where I completely had a lack of control. Although I might try to plan for things and control everything that’s happening, this is nearly impossible. There are so many things and so many other people that play into each situation. Even though I might think that my needs are the most important (because they might be to me), they are definitely not to everyone else involved. No one is going to go out of there way just to benefit me and to make my life easier (unless I paid them or something). Everyone else is just as concerned with their needs as I am concerned with mine. Of course there are some extremely nice people out there that do like to put others before them; however, as a whole this is usually not the case. Different people want different things and they will do things differently than I might and this is completely out of my control but it’s okay. At the same time though, it is important to be selfish and to stay true to the things that you want to do. You need to make your needs and desires a priority. Know when to compromise but also know when to choose you. Especially abroad, when you are living a once in a lifetime experience, make sure that you are not going to regret things that you didn’t have the chance to do because who knows when you’ll get the same chance again.

Life is so short. Stop waiting for someday and make someday today. If you keep putting off the things you’ve always wanted to do, those things may never actually happen. Take advantage of every single day that is given to you and do something special with it. While in Florence, there was so much I wanted to do before I left but it also felt like I had all the time in the world to do it. Before I knew it, that time was flying by and I really had to start doing everything that was on my list. I started doing one new thing every day until I left. Even if that one thing was just going to a coffee shop I always wanted to go to, I made it a priority so that it would be something that I would actually experience instead of just forgetting about. No matter the things you’ve always wanted to do, don’t wait around for them to happen to you; but instead, go out and make them happen for yourself. 

Last but not least, I learned that things do not always go as planned and when they don’t, it’s just time to find a new plan and keep going. Since so much is completely out of our control, there are always going to be times when things go wrong but its important not to get too hung up over these types of inconveniences. Just remember that it’s not the end of the world, although it might feel like it. There is always something you can do to fix the situation and get back on track. Even when things go wrong (because something probably will), just keep going. Everything is going to be okay. 

Well, I think that’s pretty much it. Again, this semester was absolutely incredible and I could probably go on and on about it for the rest of my life. I am so thankful for the opportunity to truly experience the world and learn more about myself than I ever thought I would. There is still so much more of the world to see and I am so excited to continue exploring in the years to come. As for now, Florence will forever have a place in my heart and I cannot wait to return one day in the future. Ciao for now, Firenze. 

bediquette

“A lovely hostel. 8 dinar/night.  Secure, and centrally located. Checkout is at noon but sometimes the owner will barge into your room at 9am, take your mattress, put a new crappier one in its place, and assure you that you can go back to sleep.”  This is the review that Donna Wheeler failed to write for my hostel in Nabeul.  

And let me give you a piece of advice for dealing with me: if you want to stay on my good side, do not wake me up with a loud knock on the door, shove your way into my room with two other people, assure me that 'this will only take 30 seconds,” take my mattress, explain it's necessary because there's a truck outside, and then appear very confused as to why I'm pissed.  (“But the truck is outside!”)  It will not help your case if you are an idiot that talks too slow and fails to pronounce your words in any meaningful way.  

Upon relating this story in the office of a friend of mine while she was supposed to be working for the Embassy of a country that will remain unnamed, I pointed out that taking one's mattress while they are sleeping is simply bad 'bediquette,' at once expounding a truism and coining a term[*] in a single dialogue.

We were both pretty pleased with the word, and immediately decided that it should somehow result in our becoming very wealthy.  The more astute among you will say, “Wait a minute -- it's your term, why should she get rich off of it?”  

This of course did not escape me, but I was also at a loss as to how to turn a clever word into lots and lots of money and I wasn't exactly going to get into an argument over intellectual property rights before she explained it to me.  

As it turns out, she wasn't sure either, so I guess the word can just belong to everyone -- the way I can still say “You're fired” without having to pay Donald Trump[1] a single penny.  

Other examples of bad bediquette include hogging the covers; kicking the covers that you aren't even using off of the other person and bunching them down to the foot of the bed where nobody has them; 'creeping'[2] someone out of bed; pushing someone off the bed by kicking them repeatedly; leaning in very closely and then making loud I'm-possessed-by-a-demon-but-still-asleep vocalizations right into someone's ear while they're sleeping; and bringing someone breakfast in bed including orange juice and hot coffee, quietly setting the tray on them, and then waking them up with a loud bang or “Oh my God! Poisonous gas!”

Calling someone's species into question following coitus is bad bediquette. Throwing up on someone and going back to sleep is bad bediquette.  Going to sleep first and snoring loudly is bad bediquette.  But plugging a snorer's nose so that he or she possibly has a nightmare about drowning before waking up is acceptable.  

Some people are born knowing these things, and some people are not.

When I was a little kid, I once threw up on myself and my friend and went back to sleep.

I'd had a lot of pepsi and pizza that night, and we'd stayed up late watching normally unobtainable television programs.  I was tired enough that I decided that my whole throwing up was just a dream.  My friend didn't wake up, and I put my head back down into my (puke-covered) pillow.

It was soon apparent to me that it was not in fact a dream, and I wondered if I could actually spend the night with my ear plugged in such a manner or if I would really have to wake up and deal with the situation.  Maybe one of those minor deities like the Tooth Fairy or the Easter Bunny would clean it up for me if I could just sleep through it.  

Maybe it could still be a dream.

Not so.  I woke up the friend whose birthday we were celebrating and broke the news to him, and we did a cleanup job about as good as you'd expect from a couple of 12-year-olds.  We were unable to wake my other friend (I do not remember how hard we tried. . .), so he spent the rest of the night in my pepsi-soaked half-digested pizza.  

Back to the hostel -- I might have simply begun my day after being awakened so rudely, but went back to sleep on general principle (if not spite).  And then shaved in the sink before checking out. I gave back the key and stood expectantly until he asked me what I wanted. . .

Some people say that it is easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.  People also say that the best revenge is living well. I do not abide by either. One of them is not good enough. The other I will not allow to be true.  

My good friends, Brad and Heavy, were once jumped outside a hockey game for wearing the wrong jerseys.  When I met them, Brad was pretty excited about getting punched in the face for the first time ever, and was very proud of how he open-hand slapped his various assailants.  As an incredibly athletic 6 foot tall 200lbs man, his poor technique was not particularly relevant.  

Heavy, who has instigated physical conflicts with individuals for infractions as minor as wearing white pants, was in considerably lower spirits.  He had spent the majority of the struggle pinned between a wall and a bike rack getting kicked by yuppies while Brad experimented with different swatting techniques.  And no sooner had Heavy finally got to his feet in all readiness to dole out fiery vengeance than the cops showed up and ended the conflict.  

Heavy wanted to go find the pudgy little pirate that had started the whole thing, but Brad, after being shut down by the waitress assured him that “those guys were losers, and being losers is punishment enough!” Brad then proceeded to brag about how his jaw didn't even hurt.  Heavy assured him that it would tighten up by morning, and within the hour Brad couldn't shut up about how much it hurt, which didn't make him any more inclined to go find the pirate (indeed the prospect of getting punched in the face a second time seemed to have lost much of its original appeal by that point).

Now to me, any group of individuals exhibiting undesireable behaviour should experience a cost comparable to the benefit which that behaviour affords them.  

A group of four attacked a group of two, and suffered no ill consequence for the infraction.  It's bad practice to let a monkey get away violence; it's bad practice to let human children get away with violence, and it's bad practice to let human adults get away with violence.  

For me there is no real difference between dealing with dogs, monkeys, or humans -- you might say that you can talk to humans, but for the most part they don't really listen, and they're responding to little more than tone, gesture and context, just like the monkeys do.  

What they understand is cost and benefit, prospect and consequence. A monkey bites someone and gets a piece of meat, he's going to bite the next person carrying a hunk of meat, too.  But if a monkey bites someone and gets throttled, loses a friend or two, and gets nothing -- well, he is seriously re-evaluating the profitability of the whole biting and stealing thing.  

And here we have these yuppy thugs beating up two guys with no consequence other than a dirty look from a cop and maybe half of them got slapped by a really cheerful badminton player.  Why not cause problems for the next guy wearing the wrong jersey?  

One reason would be because there's that crazy red-headed guy that has the uncanny ability to make his shirt disappear at the utterance of a moderately hostile word who won't leave them alone, keeps beating them up, and keeps asking why they're not wearing white pants.  

If you have one of those guys in your life, you probably don't want two (unless you think that crazy red-haired guys are like those homicide-inducing worms in that episode of X-files[3], where being infected by one will result in death, but when infected with a second the worms kill each other, causing the patient to be cured).

So while a selfish unspiteful guy like Brad is living well and allowing a bunch of thugs to run rampant so that they can be someone else's problem; a spiteful, angry guy like Heavy is doing his part for society, instilling fear and thoughtfulness into those very same people. Living well.  The best revenge need only be carried out once.

And so we come to permission and forgiveness. Let it be known that whilever[4] I am in the room, it will indeed be much much much more difficult and painful to ask forgiveness than it will be to ask permission.  I will make the slogan inaccurate if I have to do it single-handedly, one inconsiderate douche-bag at a time.

So I'm standing there, looking at this guy, and I tell him that I paid for a night of undisturbed sleep.  And he disturbed me.  

He highlighted the fact that he'd apologized, and what more could be done?  I replied that I wanted 2 dinars back.  

Now, one of the things that made me so incredibly mad about this situation is that this guy could have a) told the dude with the truck to come back some other time, b) told me in advance that he would need my mattress, c) put me in a room where the mattress did not need to be taken away at 9am or d) offered me some kind of compensation for my trouble.

He displayed no intention to do any of these things. He did apologize, but it is almost certain that his actions were carried out with the intent of an apology at their conclusion. 'Regret' carries no weight in matters of action.

It's funny how you can make someone do something just by not going away. He only gave me one dinar, instead of two (which amounts to about 67¢ instead of $1.33), but the psychological effect of being compelled to reach into his pocket to give me money because of his own poor behaviour was my desired outcome.  

What I wanted, really, was for him to know that I existed, and that people like me existed.  People that wouldn't let a slight go unsatisfied.

In Yellowstone National Park they found that the very idea of a wolf in the mind of an elk affected its browsing habits and thus the growth pattern of the forest, resulting in an altered community structure [5]. Elk who have never encountered a wolf before browse anywhere without fear, which prevented new trees from growing and inhibited the populations of various other species.

The reintroduction of wolves had almost immediate effects: the elk stepped into line, new trees began to grow, and shit got done.  Maybe this guy had never seen a Sherpa before, but now he knows that people like me exist.  The next time there's a truck waiting for a mattress, he won't be sure if the person sleeping on that mattress is a Sherpa or a Brad (Heavies you can see from a pretty long way off. . .), and he is more likely to be inclined to behave differently -- perhaps more considerately or fairly.  

One might suppose that the existence of a diligent press can have the same effect on the behaviour of politicians; indeed we might all be well served by a healthy wolf reintroduction into that arena more than any other.  

It should be noted that, not surprisingly, upon giving me the dinar, he told me not to bother ever coming back.  I had of course anticipated this, and had considered the likelihood that I would ever return to that town, and the corresponding probability that he would remember me if I did.  

In instances where there is some question as to the most reasonable course of action, one can often allow a trusted rule or principle to guide you.  In Chess, you may often hear “When in doubt, push a pawn.” It is generally true, but I will spare you the analysis and justification.

In this case, there was indeed a guiding principle that lay my path before me:  Never Let Someone Cross You for Free.  Neither Rome, Genghis Kahn, Braveheart, Cachito, or the Sahara Desert would allow themselves to be crossed without consequence, and what rational creature would haphazardly throw down the gauntlet before any one of them?  

You might think that this policy only has tangible effect (in game theory, for example) when players interact with each other repeatedly or when the results of interactions are communicated to broader populations.  

Since I will probably never see this guy again and the interaction was not televised, you may argue that it was a waste of energy.

To this I say: 1) I got a dinar 2) I take heart in knowing I gave cause for him to modify his behaviour in future interactions with others (a version of my kindness to strangers. . .) 3) If everybody did what I did, there wouldn't be so much crap to put up with in the first place 4) there is something to be said for the air of a person who doesn't let shit slide. Be it an imprint on the universe, or the attitude that results when you are pleased with yourself, or even the pheremonal change resulting from not being dominated.  It could perhaps be delivered more palatably by suggesting that we communicate our habits.  A related question is how well do we mask our habits, and how selective are we between the two?  Another discussion, certainly.  

But once we have chosen to be true to ourselves, one might argue that all other decisions follow, and there are no other decisions to be made:  your course of action is set before you.  

When you are made aware that this is the choice being faced -- the choice of whether you will look in the mirror with satisfaction or disappointment -- is there any question as to what you will choose?  

Don't despair if you've known yourself to fail this test, because as long as you live you will ever be put before this same fork in the road.  And it will be a difficult decision until you finally realize that you can not appease disappointment in the mirror with anything but gumption (Not including the context in which you are a suspect in an interrogation room behind two-way glass and the detective looking on is disappointed that you're not guilty, especially because you are making the case for your innocence with great gumption and his disappointment is more arising from the fact that he will be late for dinner again because he still has no real lead on the case. That kind of disappointment 'in' the mirror won't be appeased by gumption at all.  But I'm not talking about that) .

Until the next coalescence of prime numbers in our somewhat arbitrary dating system,

Sherpa

Don't Tread on Me

* I'm sure many of you will point out that a simple internet search (via google or duckduckgo, whichever you prefer) reveals that the term 'bediquette' is already in ciculation.  I am now sure that I will not be widely credited with coining the term, but I wonder if any of those other people managed to somehow turn a profit from their vocabularic innovations. . .

1. what a douche bag

2. a gradual process in which you continuously crowd and lean on the person you're sleeping with, so that over the course of the night they are inched towards the very edge of the bed and are forced to either get out of bed and go to the other side, or else fall right over the edge

3. X-Files Season 1 Episode 8, “Ice”

4. one more brand new word from sherpa -- pronounced: 'WHILE-EVER'

5. Ripple and Beschta, 2004. “Wolves and the Ecology of Fear: Can Predation Risk Structure Ecosystems?” Bioscience 54(8):755-766 http://www.cof.orst.edu/leopold/papers/04_August_Article_Ripple.pdf