B's Soapbox: Self-love and self-acceptance

So, this is just something that came to me after I read the latest email from one of my friends, but hopefully it might speak to a few more of you guys:
It's always incredibly painful for me to hear friends say that they think they're unattractive or undesirable or unloveable...and yes, I get it that all of this could be applied to me as well. Hearing them say stuff like that is like a dagger to my heart because it's just not true, and ultimately, it's just poison for the soul. Because my dear friends, you're not unattractive or undesirable or unloveable. You're fine and perfect just the way you are and don't let anyone, including yourself, tell you any differently. You have every right to be loved, every right to be desired physically/mentally/emotionally, by both yourself and someone else. And just because you feel worthless and unattractive, either all the time or just when you're having a bad day/week/month/year, don't allow yourself and other people to treat you that way. Nobody should settle for someone who treats them like shit, like they're replaceable (because you are unique and that's the way it should be), like they're just another notch on the bedpost. Even if you feel like you've hit rockbottom and you deserve to be punished by living forever alone, or worse, spending the rest of your days with someone who neither cares about nor respects you, it's not true.
Trust me, I've been there. I have been in abusive friendships just because I thought that no one else would want to be my friend otherwise. I have done certain things that I knew were wrong and that made me hate myself just because I wanted to belong. I mean, I still catch myself saying incredibly horrible and hurtful things about myself from time to time. Granted, I'm working on not doing that anymore, or nearly as much, but it's still difficult. Loving, or even just liking and respecting, yourself isn't easy. Well, maybe for some of you it is. In that case, I salute you and you are obviously a better, more well-adjusted person than I am. As for the rest of you, most worthwhile and important things don't necessarily come easily. It sucks, I know, but just try to make the effort.
Because you are perfect just the way you are. With all your quirks and supposed flaws. With your perfect or not-so-perfect physiques. Each and every single one of you. So what if they don't invite you to their party because you're too quiet. They're missing out on your awesomeness and wicked sense of humor. So what if she laughs in your face when you tell her you like her because she thinks you're a complete loser for playing games like D&D. It's her loss because she'll never know what a good listener you are, that you'll take care of her when she's sick, that you'll hold her when she cries, or that you'll take care of all her physical and emotional needs. So what if he criticizes your body the first time he sees you naked. He's neither worth your time nor does he deserve to look upon your glorious body. You just do you, be the best you you can be, and know that there is at least one person who accepts you for who you are.
Thanks for reading and I'm going to get off of my soapbox now...well, at least until I find something else that I feel needs to be talked about.

Stuff I've read: Abortion and the Culture of Shame

I've decided to start a new segment (is segment the right word for this? Maybe series? Doesn't really matter, it's my blog after all.) and it's going to be about various articles I've read. Assuming that I have a lot to say about them. Otherwise, I might wind up overloading the newsfeeds of my friends on FB. I know, I know...you all want to know about my online dating adventures, but I'm just not really in the mood to talk about them right now.
For the first entry of this segment/series I will dive right into the deep side of the pool. Why? Because I'm obviously not the most sane person and seemingly enjoy making people feel uncomfortable. Not really...but sometimes it can be fun and sometimes it is necessary. The topic of abortion belongs to the latter of the two. I read this article on how Texas has created a "culture of shame" when it comes to the topic of abortion, and honestly, it makes me upset. It saddens and angers me. Not just as a woman, but also as a human being. So, is everyone ready for a rant? Oh, and rules about comments (not that I've ever had a problem with them before, but just to be safe...): Let's not get ugly or hateful here, okay? I have to sift through them anyways before they get published, and I would hate to have to delete them. Anyways...let the ranting commence! *cue the trumpets and horns*
*ahem* It's one thing to believe something and have an opinion, but it's a completely different issue to be judgmental and try to force your beliefs on the rest of humanity. For all I care, you can believe in the Great Jewel-Encrusted Bunny in the Sky, but unless I'm interested in converting, don't tell me that it wants me to live my life a certain way. While I do believe that some Christians mean well with being against abortion, I think that most just jumped on the bandwagon and are hiding behind their beliefs to justify their behavior and to exert control over a group of people. Now, I'm not saying that all Christians are like this. I'm also not saying that any of you guys are like this, but a great number of people are. In addition to that, you can still be against abortion, but it's none of your business whether or not a woman chooses to end her pregnancy. Personally, I think abortion should be a last resort and should only happen after the woman has undergone proper counseling to ensure that she has thought this through extensively. And I know what some of you are going to say: There's always adoption! Yes, this is true, but with so many children already going hungry (even in the States) and being neglected by the system and mainstream society (and don't even look at me like that...because it's true), they really aren't that much better off. Oh, and what about that issue of practicing safe sex? Well, let's see...with so much abstinence-only sex ed and the ability to refuse that one's hormonally-addled child receive a well-balanced sex ed or to provide them with one oneself, I can see how one would be confused. Because naturally all children are born with the knowledge of what condoms and pregnancy are... One can't have it both ways! But that's right, religion generally doesn't permit for safe sex or abortions, does it? Do I really have to tell everyone about how religious books like the Bible were written by men, as in mortal men...made out of flesh and blood (and I don't care that God is listed as the author of the King James Bible!)? Even if deities took the time to either personally contribute to or indirectly inspire the authors to write those books, they aren't necessarily the most up-to-date with modern society. Ways of thinking that worked hundreds/thousands of years ago don't or can't be applied to today's society. Just like our current ways of thinking won't necessarily be relevant in the next 50-100 years.
As for the "culture of shame"? The main reason why these women feel regret or wind up becoming traumatized is because of the way mainstream society condemns them for making such a tough decision. Maybe people should ask them why they made the decision they made before they jump to any conclusions, but people tend to be lazy when it comes to things like that. Everything has to be black and white, one extreme or another, otherwise people have to utilize their brains more and thinking's oh-so-hard. (And yes, I'm mad.) Here's a newsflash: Reality consists of millions of shades of grey...or just plain 50. (I know! Focus! Serious topic...)
I just have a bit of advice for everyone, and if you decide to disregard everything else I just wrote, please, please keep this in mind: Try to focus more on being a decent human being and a little bit less on being a good follower of whatever religion you belong to. You are a human first and foremost and everything else should come in second/third/fourth/etc. We all deserve to be loved and treated with respect and kindness. If you do that, I'm sure that your deities will still thank and reward you, even if you didn't follow their teachings as strictly as you "should" have.
There, I'm done. Now get outta here before we all hug and kiss and braid each other's hair.
Until next time...assuming I haven't thoroughly scared everyone off...

Online Dating (Episode Two): Observations and Tips

Yes, I am still alive and you can all rejoice because, for once, this won't be a depressing post! Yaaaay!!! Anyways...the last time I wrote about online dating I mentioned the disaster of a phone call I had with a potential date. Needless to say, that was the first and only time we talked to each other, especially since I received a message from him about one or two weeks later saying that he had fallen in love. Obviously, he managed to find someone who was better versed in the ways of conversation. So, I wish the two of them lots of happiness and plenty of not awkward talks.
Today I would like to write about the things I have noticed about myself and the men on certain dating sites.
First off, am I the only one who feels that online dating is more of a full-time job? To me it just seems that if you do online dating the way these sites advise you to, you almost have to invest a good two to three hours every day, and since I'm guessing that some people (and by some, I mean me) are signed up with more than one site, that adds up. Besides, I should be using that time to do something more productive, like study.
And yes, I have accounts on several dating sites...four to be exact. However, I'm only really active on one of them. The first one (let's call it O) I actually signed up with because they had cool personality quizzes. In fact, I signed up with them so long ago that I am still listed as being in a relationship, which is obviously a lie. It wasn't back then, but it certainly is now. I keep on forgetting that I have an account on that site until it sends me a happy birthday message. Then I decided to try the second one (Z) because I thought I was really desperate (and I liked the commercials...it happens, even to me), but then I took a look at the men using it and quickly realized that I didn't want someone that badly. Maybe that was more of a regional issue though... Site number three (E) was the first German account I set up, but I don't even really use that one anymore because I can't use all of the functions without signing up for a premium membership. As for the last one (P), I again started off with limited access, but I actually purchased the premium membership for this site since it was cheaper without giving too much up quality-wise. This last website is the one that I actually use.
So, before I continue, it's important to note that the things I'm writing about are based off of my personal experiences and opinions, and they certainly aren't representative of the population at large. If you agree with me, great, and if you don't, that's fine too. We can all agree to disagree, as long as we aren't being unreasonably aggressive and immature about it. Most of us should already be aware of this, but since you never know who might stumble across this blog, I feel that such things need to be pointed out repeatedly.
Alright, on to the main show...
I have come to realize something shocking about myself when it comes to online dating, and that is that I can be quite superficial. What I mean is that I am more lenient/tolerant/accepting towards/of guys I meet in person. For example, someone doesn't strike me as overly attractive or I'm just not feeling it, but maybe this person is extremely funny or sweet. Offline, I'll gladly date someone who is incredibly funny over someone who is extremely attractive. Or at least I'll give it a shot, whereas online dating (unfortunately) allows for me to kick the poor guy to the curb without wasting a second thought on him. (Sorry.) There seems to be a whole lot of characteristics/requirements that automatically eliminate most potential partners for me. Should I list them? So we can all witness what a bitch I really am? Now, for the record, these are things that I look for in a potential partner online since it seems that I am very discriminatory if I haven't actually met the person. Sounds weird, but it's true. You can all hate me later.
1) Non-smokers - These are very, very hard to come by in Germany. It seems that the majority of men (online) smoke, be it regularly or occasionally or just whenever they're out with friends drinking. This is actually one of the things that is (almost) non-negotiable for me, regardless of online or offline. I have too many family members who smoke, and I would prefer to not become romantically/sexually-involved with someone who smells and/or tastes like smoke. I will gladly be the bestest of buddies with you, but if you smoke, there is a 99% chance of you staying in the friend zone. Of course, should I ever meet someone who fulfilled all of my other basic desires and/or needs, but smoked, I might make an exception. However, I wouldn't count on it.
2) No children and no previous marriages - This is one of my bitchier requirements (or maybe even the bitchiest one?), but hear me out. I have witnessed and heard about too much baby mama and papa drama, so unless I've met your previous life partner and have been able to judge her (or his, you never know) character for myself, I'm going with the worst-case scenario and staying away from you. As for the children, as much as I love them and would love to be a mom at some point (maybe), I know I wouldn't just be taking on the kids. I would also be taking on the parent, assuming he/she is still alive, and again that is potentially just way too much drama for my liking. This is one of the areas that I would be quite a bit more lenient on in an offline setting. Depending on the person, I wouldn't say no to a previously married father. However, I would require meeting the former spouse and having a conversation with the children (assuming the guy still plays an active part in their lives), once the time is right, to explain the situation and answer any questions. Of course I realize that at my advanced/advancing age that finding someone who hasn't been married (at least once) and who is childless becomes increasingly impossible. So, I'm not entirely delusional, and like I said, I am quite a bit more flexible about this issue when I meet someone in person.
3) No religious affiliations (or open proclamations of political views) - I usually would never think of asking someone about their beliefs (or political views), so why would an online admission about these things deter me all of a sudden? Unless I know you fairly well, I might associate certain personality traits to you if I know ahead of time which church or political party you belong to. So, it's simply a matter of avoiding more potential drama. However, in real life, I don't really care what you believe in unless you are actively harming or using your beliefs to discriminate against other living beings.
4) No major height or age discrepancies, not too far away - I know, really superficial of me. Again, things that are very negotiable...actually ultimately everything is...except for the smoking, I'm fairly flexible about these in person. However, if I can only see the raw data, I will rule out as many people as possible. This is gonna sound cold, but narrowing down the number of men I contact helps me to prioritize, and expend my time and energy more wisely. Again, sorry. Nothing against men, especially the ones online, but I don't know you, so I'm going to have to go off of the information provided.
Since I can't think of anything else to write that will make me look like a superficial beeyotch, let's move on to a few gripes I have with some men on these dating sites and my suggestions for improvement. Needless to say, you don't have to give a crap, in which case, I am curious as to why you're reading this blog to begin with.
Anyways, on to the next list:
a) Pick a decent username - Sites like E and P will actually provide you with a number, so potential suitors can't pass judgment on you just based off of your username. Hey, not everyone wants to hook up with randydude69. (I don't know if anyone actually has that name...and no, it's not mine. My apologies if you do! It's just an example. Don't sue me, I'm just a poor student.) On sites that do allow for usernames, like Z, I would advise picking something neutral. However, if you want to show that you're not looking for anything serious, then by all means, let your username do the talking for you.
b) Include a picture! - Even if it's pixelated because you haven't given me permission to see it (some of these sites, like E and P, don't allow you to see the profile picture clearly without the user giving you consent), just go through the effort of uploading at least one decent photograph. Related to this: Upload one with a clear shot of your face. Please! I think it's great that you have pictures of you having fun on the beach, but I generally don't wind up becoming attracted to someone's silhouette. Oh, and on sites like Z that are a bit more informal: Look, I get it. Sites like this aren't exactly known for creating everlasting love. However, there are still a few basic rules I think one should follow when uploading photos: No impersonations of Ben Stiller's "Blue Steel". It's cute, but best saved for your modeling portfolio and friends. Try to lay off of the topless pics. Thanks for showing the goods, I appreciate it, really, but that's not quite what I'm looking for. No group pictures. Even if you tried to crop the photo, your profile pic should not include fractions of your amigos and/or ex. Just take a friggin' selfie! (Unlike what some other sites might say, I would prefer a decent selfie over a poorly cropped group picture anyday.)
c) Fill out your profile - Come on guys, I went through the effort to fill mine out as honestly as possible, and then I stumble across profiles that haven't even been completed halfway. It's like a slap in the face. So, just do your part because I sure as hell ain't gonna bother writing you if you haven't given me anything to write to you about.
d) Winking/smiling/etc. alone won't cut it - I think it's great that you sent me that smile, but then didn't bother to write. What do you want me to do? Oh hey, that guy poked me. That must mean he likes me! (Maybe I shouldn't have gone with poked as an example...oh well.) So, unless you're smoking hot and I really like your profile, I won't react. If you can't be bothered to at least send me a "I think your profile is interesting.", then I have nothing to say to you either.
e) Try to avoid cheesy lines - If it's embedded in an otherwise sincerely written message, I don't care. However, if that's your opening line and that's all you've got to say, then I get the feeling you just copied/pasted that to a hundred other profiles. I know that people contact more than one person in the online dating world, but you don't have to insult the other person by making it so glaringly obvious that you're just playing the numbers game. You might as well go ahead and admit "Hey girl, I just want to get laid." or "I don't actually want a relationship." Thanks to site Z, I've come to strongly dislike many of my messages. That's probably because many of them are along the lines of "Are you looking for adventure?" (Umm, with you? No.) Also, I don't like being buttered up unnecessarily. I have a mirror, I know what I look like. If you were to ask anyone in my social circle to describe me, words like beautiful and sexy would not be the first words to jump to their minds. More like quiet and awkward. Maybe smart. Maybe. So, I don't need you to feed me lines about how I stunned you with my laser eyes or how I am the epitome of beauty. It reeks of lies, even if you're being genuine. If you still think you need to compliment me on my irresistible appearance, please don't open with it. Wait until we've actually met and have had a few actual conversations.
Now that I've torn into any and all potential dates, which I am sorry about, it's time for me to turn the mirror on myself. I probably shouldn't be so discriminating, even in an online setting. I'm dealing with other human beings (hopefully), so I shouldn't assume that they're all the same. I'm sure that many, if not most, of them are decent people who deserve a chance to be loved. I will readily admit, that I can be sometimes surprisingly superficial when it comes to online dating, and I should try to loosen some of my strict requirements. My goal is to write back to anyone who has gone through the effort of writing me. That is the least that I can do. I should try to upload more pictures, preferably not selfies (even though I don't know how or even if  I'll accomplish that). I still have a lot to work on, so just be patient with me. And please remember, this is just based off of my observations and very limited experiences, so what bothers me, might not bother you. This doesn't mean that I hate these guys online or that I now suddenly hate some of you because you smoke or you have been married before or you happen to be 10 cm shorter than me. These are preferences I have in a potential partner, but I'm not expecting to have someone meet all of these, but at least one would be nice.
That's all from my end for now, and hopefully, I'll have more to write about some other time.
Take care everyone! Plenty of love and hugs!         

From Sad to Zen and Back Again

First off, something positive: To those of you who celebrate it, happy Easter! To those who don't (or aren't), happy Sunday or Monday or whatever day of the week it happens to be for you.
Now on to the actual entry...
For those of you playing the home game, you are already familiar with the ginormous breakdown I had or had been suffering from for the past two weeks. Well, the good news is that everything actually managed to stabilize and I became very calm and, dare I say, borderline content. This state of mind lasted for three days straight (three days!)...and then I went to visit one of my relatives today. (I won't say who exactly, but it's not like it's that hard to figure out.)
Out of necessity, I've had to learn how to censor what I say around this particular individual, mainly because she always manages to find a chink in my armor and inevitably says things that wind up pissing me off. Unfortunately, since I can't really tell her off or punch her, this anger just gets bottled up and I eventually start to become depressed (and yes, in some cases even cry). And so, even though this visit started out very innocently, I almost started yelling at her by the end of it (hormones may be partially to blame for this, but only partially...I would've still been aggravated otherwise).
These are some of the things I had to listen to: I'm too close to my parents (never mind that I didn't live with them for about four years and that several thousands of miles are currently separating us); I should just stop visiting them (that would also include any and all of my American friends and my cat), and instead just find people to do stuff with (we don't have to be actual friends, just people who can get along with each other...because those are so easy to find! Hey, let me put out an ad on Craigslist: Lonely and desperate female looking for people to do stuff with her...or to her...I don't care! Not really looking for anything long-term. Heck, you don't even have to like me, just so long as you hang out with me!); the United States isn't good for me (while this may be somewhat/mostly true, Germany hasn't been that good for me either, but hey, I'm completely to blame for that one); I'm 28 and could be married and have kids by now (thank you for rubbing salt in the wound that I am a failure not only on the academic, but also on a personal, level); yadayadayada. So yeah, tons of fun for everyone...
Of course, the fun can't stop there because I wind up calling my parents (you know, the ones I have an almost Bates-esque relationship with), and the shit hits the proverbial fan for the second time in one day. Usually, I talk to both my mom and my dad, but this time, I only get to talk to my mom. Hmmm, this is strange. I wonder what happened to Dad? Well, he either wasn't home or he just didn't want to talk to me. As it turns out, the blog entry about the sad panda got him pretty upset...and by "pretty upset" I mean he's one mouse click away from booking my return flight home. His main worry is that I'll slit my wrists, hang myself, throw myself from one of the bridges in the area, overdose on drugs, die from alcohol poisoning, blow my brains out, get killed by one of the many random strangers I will inevitably be having unprotected sex with (I should be so lucky), or any combination thereof. Considering that he's seen firsthand how out of control depression can get, I kinda get why he would be worried...BUT it's a little too late to be worrying about lil ol' me. I have been suffering from depression and anxiety for as long as I can remember. Nobody paid attention then, nobody needs to now. Besides, if I wasn't able to end everything back when I was younger, guess what, ain't nuthin' gonna happen now. What?! It's true! We all know that I'm just playing the waiting game at this point. Aren't you glad that you are reading this depressing crap? You're probably as happy as I am writing it...
Anyways...right now it just feels like I've taken two steps forward and one step back. And no, nobody needs to alert the police, nobody needs to have me institutionalized. Seriously, if you do, sad panda will become angry panda, and then nobody will be happy. Capiche?
Please join me next time for more chaos and drama...or don't.

Feeling bad about feeling bad

So, it seems that pretty much everything I write, that pertains to me and my life at least, is incredibly depressing. And for that, I would like to apologize, especially since I know that my parents also read my blog. Not to mention that sad more easily begets sad than happy begets happy. If that makes sense. I can only imagine how tough it must be for my parents to be reading the things I write because, hey, what feels better than knowing that your child is seriously messed up and there is nothing you can do about it? I do want to thank them for being supportive, and I am honestly not trying to hurt/anger/sadden/disappoint them, or anyone for that matter.
At this point, I'm just trying to weigh my options, and as much as I don't want to give up and take the easy way out, I just might have to step back. Maybe this just isn't my fight to fight.
Studying is difficult enough as is, so I don't know why I decided to make it even harder on myself. I guess I ultimately thought I was doing everyone a favor by making the decision I made a couple of years ago. Maybe I thought things would be different. It's hard to say at this point because everything has sort of become this huge muddled mess.
All I know now is that I have some important decisions to make. In order to do that, I'm going to give myself a maximum of four weeks to think everything over. I just want to rule out any hormonal imbalances or the complications of readjusting to a regular class schedule as being potential culprits behind these thoughts. Unfortunately, at this point, it doesn't matter which decision I wind up making, I will more than likely hate myself for it. I just need to make sure that I make the one that I will hate myself for the least.
Anyways, thank you for reading, and hopefully, I'll have happier news to report next time. 

Adventures of the sad panda (or What the f*** did I get myself into?!)

I know, it's been a while and I'm sorry about that. There has simply been a lot going on, in my head at least, since we all know I have virtually no social life.
Big surprise, I am a little less than happy right now. In fact, I would say that I am outright depressed. Actually, and I'm writing this knowing perfectly that most of you will view me as weak/sad/pathetic, I have been crying for at least once a day (with the occasional dry days in between) for a good two weeks. So, my crying has been gradually increasing for almost a year. Since I would like to celebrate such a depressing twist, let's take a look back to how the mighty have fallen...
As some of you may be aware, I am currently working on my MA in Germany. Why? Because I can and because it seemed like a good idea at the time. Back in September 2012 all I wanted to do was make more use of my education and not waste away at work (I won't name my employer here because a) I don't want a lawsuit on my hands and b) I might get stuck having to work there again), so I saved up money, took the GRE, applied for grad school in Germany and got accepted, and left. I was so happy and hopeful, until I showed up at the school and found out that I wasn't fully enrolled yet. And so, with about two weeks until classes were supposed to start, both my parents and I started to freak out, and too much money was spent on getting all of the necessary paperwork sent and turned in. Let's just say, if I had known then, what I know now, I would have scheduled a return flight home right then (yes, to my parents and the kitties, don't judge!) and sent out applications to various grad schools in the US. But noooo, no tuition fees and better/cheaper health insurance and weight loss and family yadayadayada... It was gonna be greeeeaaaat!!!! Eventually it all got worked out and I was excited to be back at school and doing something productive/beneficial for myself and my future.
However, this feeling of joy quickly became disrupted once I realized that outside of the dying breed of Magister students, who need more time to acquire their degrees and typically are in their late 20s/early 30s, I was easily the oldest out of the bunch. This wouldn't have really mattered, if it hadn't been pointed out to me that my Japanese sucked monkey balls. (Okay, nobody actually said that verbatim, but it had been brought to my attention that my Japanese skills just weren't that great. They still aren't.)
Despite these devastating realizations, I continued to work hard and was rewarded with...mediocre grades (because one professor took sympathy on me) and my first German research paper being so terribly written that that particular professor couldn't even grade it (I was offered to rewrite it in English, but have since given up because I keep on running into this huge mental wall with FAILURE sprayed all over it in neon paint). So, the first semester was a complete failure academically-speaking, but it was still fun overall (I met a few really great people, I actually had some semblance of a social life, I was starting to lose weight, and I even managed to wean myself off of my anti-depressants) and I learned my lesson, which resulted in me overcompensating during the second semester with an overfull class schedule (one that included two Japanese language courses back-to-back because I'm obviously a masochist).
The first half of the second semester was still great, and then something happened during the course of the second half that started to cause a bit of a disconnect. I still felt fine most of the time, but I started to care less about my classes. At the time, I thought it was simply the sight of seeing other people being openly happen during late spring/early summer, combined with me not being able to sleep properly due to the warm weather (you don't want to know what I had to do in order to be able to fall asleep), that was causing me to feel sad and frustrated. So, I looked forward to visiting my parents in the summer/fall.
While this first visit had its ups and downs, and I wound up eating too much fast food, I was glad to be around my cat (and of course the other feline family members) and I felt my sense of normalcy slowly being restored. Unfortunately, this feeling was also accompanied by the anxiety caused by me trying (and failing miserably) to research for and type up three separate research papers. No, I wasn't able to finish any of them, so don't even ask. As much as I secretly didn't want to return to Germany, I tried to tell myself that I was practically halfway done, so I should just keep on fighting and everything would be alright.
The third semester started off okay. Except that I had yet again taken on too many courses and quickly found myself running on empty and working off of an extremely messed-up sleep cycle (some nights I skipped sleep altogether in favor of studying). I hardly engaged in any kind of social activity, when I was available nobody else was, and when the others actually wanted to do something, I just wasn't in the mood (or didn't have the funds). This past semester also saw the return of a particularly bad habit of mine: skipping classes. I think I missed a total of three, maybe four, weeks worth of classes. Why? Because I started to care even less than I did during the spring/summer. Besides, my crying also started to pick up and I didn't necessarily want to have everyone and their mother see me sob for no apparent reason.
As if classes and my own personal issues weren't already enough to contend with, I stupidly decided/agreed to apply for various exchange programs. The month, and the week in particular, leading up to my second US visit I was running myself beyond ragged. Between getting everything ready for my trip, filling out paperwork for one of those exchange programs, and spending hours in one of the university's libraries working on take home assignments and exams, I oftentimes didn't know what I was doing or what I had already taken care of or what still needed to be done. I managed to not jump off a building by writing down what had to be done each day. If you needed me to plan anything past that day, I couldn't because I was never sure how much I would be able to accomplish within the next 24 hours. I kid you not, if my inner me actually had a voice, she would've been screaming at me non-stop.
My second visit was again spent with the kitties and the parents, but it was also mostly spent contemplating the near future. During this downtime, I came to realize that I was actually dreading the beginning of the next semester. This time around, I really didn't want to go back. However, I didn't want to say anything at the time because I felt like that was a selfish thing to think. (How dare I not want to go back? What about the friends I met over there? What about the professors? Your parents are going to be so disappointed. That would be quitting and you don't quit. You're so ungrateful and selfish, not everyone gets this kind of an opportunity.) The problem is: It's stopped being fun, it's stopped being interesting, it's stopped being motivating. This is what my life looks like: I go to classes. I go back to the apartment. At least once a week I have to buy groceries. I have to ask my parents for money at least twice a month. Even though I do try to look for it on a regular basis, work isn't really an option because if I'm not in class, I'm doing homework and studying, which actually takes up more time than one would think. Today's the first day of classes and I'm dreading going. I just don't want to go. Practically everyone I know will be done studying by the end of this semester. When I return to/am in my apartment, I am alone. No cats, no room mates, just me and my thoughts. On my days off, I usually sleep until 10, sometimes even until 1 because there is no motivation to get up (compare this to my US wake-up times of 8-10). In addition to that, I am now stuck in this mess of preparing for this exchange to Japan, which I have been regretting since February. Sure, I was excited at first, but let's be honest: It's a lot of stress for something expensive that won't count for squat on my transcript, but maybe, just maybe, will look decent on my resume. Besides, I know me, I probably won't do anything over there anyways. It just seems more and more like it's just going to be a semester of me sitting around, in a different setting mind you, possibly improving my Japanese skills and delaying my graduation by another semester because, from the sounds of things, a semester won't be long enough to take classes that can be counted towards my degree. So yeah, worth it, but not really worth it. I'm still thinking about whether or not I want to go through with this, and as of right now, I'm thisclose to calling it off and just going to Japan on my own schedule (while I'm not feeling pressured to finish school in a timely fashion).
Of course, these feelings don't mean that I'm going to break off my MA studies. Regardless of how depressed I've been feeling, this isn't even an option. I have been looking at my options though, such as switching to a university stateside. Unfortunately, it seems that I am out of luck in that department. One of the schools I looked at doesn't admit students in the spring, and the director went ahead to inform me that, even if I did by some miracle get accepted into their program, only a maximum of three of my courses would get transferred. As for the other school I looked at, despite a promising start, since they do actually accept spring admissions, they aren't accepting anymore applicants for the Japanese part of their program and I am lacking the language skills for the other tracks they offer. So, I either risk waiting and losing a huge chunk of my course work, or I am stuck here.
Since it seems very likely that I will have to stay here, I have been rethinking the promise I made to myself last year about never taking anti-depressants again (not unless absolutely necessary). Unfortunately, it seems like it might be necessary after all. My only problem is that Germany still hasn't completely opened itself up to the notion of depression yet. Not everyone here is anti (even though here you won't really hear talks about depression, here it's more about burn-outs), but there is still a bit of a stigma attached to it, so I'm not sure if I really feel like fighting with my doctor or any therapists about something like this.
Anyways, that's it for me. Sorry for being such a downer... I would like to say that the next post will be something uplifting, but I'm just not feeling it. 
Talk to you guys later.

Online dating (Episode One): Holy phone-y awkwardness!

Yeah, I know, not my best title. But hey, it's my blog, so I can come up with crappy titles. Anywho, for those of you who don't know (and somehow magically care), I set up accounts on two different online dating sites a little over a month ago. Why? Because I'm a lonely person, my last relationship ended in 2008 (lolz...last relationship...as if I have such an extensive dating history...nuns get more action than I do...oops, sorry?...), and I obviously fail at life. I won't regale you with the details now. Maybe I'll type that story up as a prequel at some point in the future, but on to the present...
So, like I mentioned, I am now a part of the online dating community and, oddly enough, do get the occasional message. A couple of weeks ago I started messaging two guys on a semi-regular basis: one of them more desirable due to proximity, one of them more desirable based off of the number of "MPs" (i.e.: matching points - the higher the number of MPs, the more compatible the two people supposedly are), one of them a bit more...for lack of a better word at this point...opinionated, one of them almost annoyingly upbeat, neither one of them seemingly able to provide a decent picture of their face (very superficial of me, I know, but I like to look at eyes and lips...not only at full-body pics...oh well, better than the guys who don't provide any pictures at all, I guess...and yes, I put up a picture of myself...and yes, it's actually of me and not someone like Megan Fox/Charlize Theron/Stana Katic/my sister/etc...not that I would ever think about doing that).
After exchanging a few messages, one of the guys asked me about my stance on phone calls, so I tried to be honest without being a complete buzzkill. Some of you are probably already aware of this, but conversing via the phone is not my strong suit, not unless the person on the other end is Miss Chatty Cathy. I'm a good listener, I like to listen, and if you ask me questions, I will answer (most of the time). However, actively talking to a faceless voice? Not really my cup of tea. I prefer e-mail and face-to-face conversations (text messaging and Skype don't count). I did provide him with my cellphone number because I figured "What the hell! He's probably not gonna call anyways." Lo and behold, I didn't hear anything from him for almost a week...and then my phone rang earlier today (or yesterday evening, depending on when I get around to publishing this entry). Yes, it was him. He has a pleasant voice, which is good, and the beginning of our conversation went over well...until it was my turn to ask him something. So what did I do? Essentially it was "Tell me something about yourself. About your background." Why the f*** would I say something stupid like that?! It initially made sense to me because we had been talking a bit about my background, so why not ask him about his. Besides, I wasn't actually counting on him calling anymore, so you're going to have to forgive me for being caught off guard (at least a little bit). But yes, it was a bit of a rookie mistake (I guess?), and I was chastised for it. Supposedly, you can't just sit down next to someone and say something like that. I guess in the world of dating and relationships that's a big no-no...maybe even in general. Considering that we're still getting to know each other and that this was our first phone call, I wasn't really expecting to receive a lesson on etiquette. Well, not really etiquette in that sense, but kinda. As a result, I felt mildly aggravated and humiliated and a part of me just wanted to pull the emergency brake and get off the train at that point. In retrospect (since it's already been like seven hours), the feeling reminded me a bit of when I was younger and had to listen to my father lecture me on something that most people probably wouldn't have even noticed (or if they had, they would've made their slight disapproval known in a slightly less grand manner...my father isn't actually a bad guy...no seriously, he's not). Of course, now I'm thinking "Great! You make me feel stupid, just like my father and grandmother did/do occasionally... Let's get married!" We talked for a bit afterwards (I'll spare you the details), and as we encountered another incredibly awkward moment of silence, I decided to use it to end the conversation. I told him that I needed to make dinner (which I did), and asked him if we should set up a time for another phone call (supposedly, I can call him whenever...which kinda irks me...just a bit...it's kinda a lackadaisical attitude). Right now, I just get the feeling that he might belong to the group of people who have a tendency to talk down to me, but I'm going to give him the benefit of the doubt because we haven't actually met in person. Who knows, maybe things will get better once I've gotten used to talking to him... I'm just not overly optimistic (I mean, optimistic according to my standards) about this right now.
Oh well, it's not like I know how this dating stuff works. I had to actively pursue my last boyfriend, and the only other relationships I had were during elementary school, so a looooooong time ago (Those were so much easier: "Hey! I like the way you run. Do you wanna be my girlfriend?" *sigh* I'm so old...).
So yeah, that was my super depressing update about my "love" life. I still feel like someone punched me in the stomach (but I think I already felt like that prior to the phone call...), so hopefully that will pass. I dunno, maybe I'm overthinking things (I do tend to do that...)...
Alright, it's bedtime for me, probably not for you, but good night anyways!
I'll try to come up with more stuff to talk about for next week (hopefully). Then again, I have to take four exams next week, so I might have suffered a nervous breakdown by that point.
Regardless, take care!            

To withdraw or not to withdraw...

As some of you might have noticed (by some I mean everyone who is friends with me on Facebook...which equates to one, maybe two of you), I have stopped typing up elaborate comments on various articles. Not that any of you really care (or have even noticed).
I've been trying to keep my mouth shut and fingers from the keyboard as much as possible. Sure, sometimes I'll still like a(n) comment/article, maybe I'll type a short sentence, or write something if it's someone's birthday. It's not like I want to come off as a complete douche (not that anyone would really notice that either).
So, why would I go from typing up comments and trying to entertain my friends to not wanting to type up anything at all (on Facebook at least...I hardly use Twitter, and special rules apply to this blog...you're all here at your own risk)?
To put it simply: I've become disgusted with myself. Yeah, yeah...I know what some of you are thinking. "How is this different from how you usually feel about yourself? Is this supposed to be news?" Well, no, this wasn't meant to be some kind of revelation. It's a bit weird to explain, but my self-loathing just managed to reach a new depth, that's all. I guess I just got beyond disgusted by my own comments that were becoming increasingly depressing...to me. And if I, as someone who is always already mildly depressed, manage to make myself even more depressed, then how are the people on my friends list going to feel? Granted, I've been known to say that I would rather have everyone hate me, but if you don't already hate me, then, I'm sorry to say, I don't have the energy to go out of my way to make you hate me. I need that energy to keep myself from curling up in the fetal position and sobbing hysterically every five seconds. Just kidding...maybe...not really. (Okay, it's not that bad...today at least.)
Anyways, I just didn't like what I was typing up anymore. Besides, hardly anyone was reading them (I don't know this for sure, but let's just say it's an educated guess), and even if someone was, what is he/she gonna say? "OMG, you need to talk to a professional about this" or "You should end your life ASAP"? Even if someone wanted to help, he/she couldn't.
And no, none of you needs to be concerned about me. If nothing has happened to me in the past 28 years, nothing will happen now either. I still have to finish working on my MA and then pay off my student loans... Oh, and there's always my precious ball of fluff (no, not that "fluff")...that is currently living with my parents and the rest of the Fluff Brigade. *sad*
I guess things could be worse: It could still be Monday. For some reason (depression, obviously), I could not stop myself from crying. Writing about my feelings *sob*, talking to one of the Japanese teachers *sob*, watching American Dad *sob* (that last one isn't true, but I did cry a looooot). Actually, Sunday and Tuesday weren't that pleasant either, but Monday was bad.
Maybe reading all of those articles and processing them in my comments wasn't the wisest choice... Especially since many of them just made me feel like a complete failure, which I am, but I shouldn't necessarily be subjecting myself to constant confirmations of said fact from outside sources. I'm also guessing that another contributing factor was the last phone call with my parents (which took place on Sunday...last Sunday). Even though I'm usually slightly less depressed, if not neutral, after talking to my parents, somehow this last conversation just completely irked me. I don't need rainbows blown up my ass every single time I talk to them, or anyone else for that matter, but something was...off. More than likely, I was already so depressed at that point that everything my parents said just sounded more negative and critical. I guess I'll find out when I talk to them later (it's already Sunday for me).
Of course, I'm still not completely out of the woods yet. There are several other factors contributing to my current blue mood, so it probably won't go away for a while. I won't mention all of them because that would probably be enough to fill a whole series of books (or provide enough material for ten Woody Allen films). Maybe I'll talk about what else is on my mind in future posts, but for now this incoherent, sad little update will have to do.
Will I return to typing up lengthy comments on Facebook? I don't know. I probably shouldn't. Most of my friends seem to be too busy enjoying life (or Candy Crush) to be bothered with my rants, so I might be better off saving my thoughts for here.
Oh well...since it's way past my bedtime and I still haven't been able to organize my thoughts properly, I should stop here and try and get some sleep. By the way, if you see me, just please refrain from asking me how I'm doing. At least for the time being. Just assume that I'm doing okay because that's all I'm going to tell you anyways. It's the one thing I'll lie about. Don't want to, but I also don't want to risk talking about how depressed I actually am. At least in person. The blog is different. That way I can cry without having anyone look at me. So, it would be really great if you could just keep the conversation light for now.
Oh, and thanks for listening (well, reading)! Maybe next time I can write about something funny and lighthearted, like sex. What can I say? I have a weird sense of humor...        
  

Struggling with feminism...

Today I've decided to share my thoughts on this particular blog entry that deals with the issue of feminism. I was going to write something short and potentially funny, yet slightly profound, on my Facebook wall, but then I couldn't get myself to shut up, so I figured: Why not publish it on my blog?

So what can I say about this before I pass out? Personally, I don't like the term "feminist". This is probably due to the fact that this and any related terms hold a negative connotation for me. Many times when I hear someone call themselves a "feminist", they either do so while engaging in the "oh-so-fun" male-bashing or they happen to be someone like Miley Cyrus. Now, despite the fact that I have been known to crush a few male egos (it really is a gift...j/k), I love men. I mean, I loooooove men! Was that too much?

In addition to that, I can't really identify with most feminists, so I would never think of calling myself one. I hold doors open for men and women alike; if I am financially able to, I am more than willing to pay for others (unless it happens ALL the time, and I don't get ANYTHING in return...); I tend to naturally get along with men more than with women (because let's face it, women can be bitches...then again, so can men...); etc. I just don't buy into the whole "men have to do/be this, women have to do/be that".

As for the engagement ring, here's a news flash: You don't need one to be engaged. They're 1) too expensive (I mean, seriously, do you know how much a 1-carat stone costs? Go ahead, google it, I'll wait...), and it is too impractical/potentially dangerous for a klutz like me (Come one, when will I wear it? When I'm out and about, hanging out with my friends? Pfffft... Besides, it would probably lead to my death anyways, just like new socks...and errant razor blades...).

Unfortunately, it is still true that many men are raised to be fearless, which oddly enough does result in a fear of fear and vulnerability. That being said, I have the same issue, but this probably has more to do with a combination of me wanting to make my father, the Army of One in persona, proud (tut mir leid Mama...hdl), and me not ever wanting to be hurt by anyone ever again (that is its own little story that doesn't need to be elaborated on at this time).

However, while I do believe in equality between the sexes (if someone is better qualified for a job, they a) deserve to be hired for that job, and b) deserve to receive an adequate pay, regardless of whether their reproductive organs are laid out according to feng shui or not...you might not want to quote me on that one), I will openly confess that I do worry from time to time that men find me too intimidating... I mean, do they? I honestly dunno...it would explain the lack of a boyfriend... Maybe one of you guys could tell me? Or maybe one of the guys could tell me? I actually am kinda curious about that...

Anyways...all in all, I guess I can be considered to be a feminist in some ways, but I wouldn't restrict myself to that label. It really boils down to: Are you a decent human being? Yes? Then we'll get along and I can respect you. If you want to act like an asshole, fine, just don't expect me to respect or interact with you. That applies to everyone equally...well, except for family, you're kinda stuck with those people... 

So, what do you guys think of feminism? Should everyone be one? Would you consider yourselves to be feminists? Let me know.

A bit of self-hatred

Here you lie before me, yet again. Looking at me with those wide eyes. Do you expect any mercy from me? Whenever I look at you, my hate towards you increases. As much as I want to kill you, I know that a simple and quick death will never do. I want to hurt you, I want to see you suffer, I want to hear you scream. Just give up, accept the inevitable, let me take over. Give me your soul so that I can tear it to shreds. I don't want any part of you to survive. Are you crying? That's so cute..and pointless. Everyone has a breaking point, even you, so just give in. Fighting me won't save you. So what should I use on you first: the baseball bat, the knives...how about some of sulfuric acid? What did I say? Fighting won't help. Oh, you still think that someone will come and save you from me? Assuming that there is someone interested in saving you, how will they stop me? We're inseparable, aren't we? But all joking aside, nobody will come to save you. Because nobody really likes you. No, nobody ever has. They all hate you. Everyone has been lying to you. They always have. I'll be doing them a favor by killing you. That's right, nobody will miss you. Oh ssshhh, it's alright... Now, where to start? Do I break your kneecaps? Dislocate your shoulders? Or should I just go ahead and cut off that ugly face of yours? Do you know how many people have been traumatized after looking at that...whatever it's supposed to be? I would be doing everyone a great favor by removing it. Don't worry, this will actually be an improvement to the way you looked before. Oh, and don't cry over missing out on love, sex, and happiness. Nobody wants you anyways. Let's face it, someone would have to be really fucked up to be interested in you. That's it, can't you feel the calm descending on you? Give in to the inevitable. Let me save you from yourself and this pathetic existence of yours.

Death of Selflessness

Before I start with the actual entry, I would like to apologize, yet again, for not updating my blog more often. I promise to do my best, and hopefully, I will be able to provide you guys (whoever you may be) with more frequent and entertaining rants/stories/etc. on a more regular basis.
Alright, on to the main event: The following is a short story I wrote in November 2008 for one of my classes. I don't want to go into too much detail, but there were a couple of things that happened to me in that year which may have influenced the storyline just a wee bit. When I started out, all I knew was how I wanted the story to end, and so I basically worked my way backwards. It isn't the best story in the world, I discovered a few things that I wanted to change as I was retyping it for this blog, but I got a good grade for it, the instructor liked it, so (with a few tiny exceptions) I left it the way it was. Feel free to comment or not comment, either way I hope you all enjoy it!

Death of Selflessness

“Wait! You forgot your lunch!” “Ah, you are too good to me,” Jacob replied as he gave Rebecca a kiss on the lips. “Yeah, yeah...just leave or you'll be late for work.” Laughing, Jacob drove off, and as his taillights disappeared in the distance, Rebecca let out a long sigh, placed her hands on her hips and returned to the house. The house always seemed so dark when Jacob was gone, even with all the curtains and windows open. “So depressing...,” was all Rebecca managed to mutter as she let herself plop onto the living room couch. After turning on the television and realizing that, as always, nothing interesting was on at eight in the morning, she turned the television back off and stared blankly at the wall. Rebecca and Jacob had lived in their six-bedroom house for three years now. She personally felt that living in such a huge house was overkill, but since she knew that it would please her husband, she had decided to give in. Yes, Jacob and Rebecca were married, even though the road to the wedding had been littered with its own share of bumps and potholes. They had separated five times before finally settling down. Each break-up had its own reason: Jacob cheated on Rebecca, Rebecca cheated on Jacob, he thought Rebecca had cheated on him, Rebecca went to Europe to advance her career, and the cause of the final break-up was Rebecca's pregnancy. This last separation had been especially devastating and surprisingly unifying at the same time. Jacob had run out on her, and Rebecca had gotten into a horrible accident. It had been so damaging that she ended up losing the child. When Jacob had come crawling back with an increased amount of affection for her after the miscarriage, all she had wanted to do was shove a few fuck yous up his ass, but she eventually took him back anyway, mainly because she saw how miserable he was without her. Funny, Jacob never struck anyone as the miserable type. He was, after all, a CEO at a Fortune 500 company... Still staring at the wall as if in a hypnotic state, Rebecca couldn't help but think that having a child would keep her preoccupied...and of course, how different her life would be if she hadn't miscarried. However, she couldn't possibly have a child now...well, SHE could. Her body had managed to recover from that experience. Unfortunately, Jacob was still very adamant about not having kids, which is odd considering that he was hardly ever home to begin with. Being the good wife that she was, Rebecca had given in...and secretly hated herself for it. That was just the way it seemed to be lately...or maybe it hadn't been that way just lately. She had always catered to everyone else's needs and wants, and during the times she had to herself, Rebecca just didn't know what to do. “No wonder I'm so bored whenever Jacob's at work. I have nobody to look after but myself,” Rebecca said to nobody in particular, “Am I really that pathetic?”                                                                         

Twelve hours later and nobody to talk to but herself, Rebecca was fuming. Her husband should have been back three hours ago, and he didn't even have the courtesy to call her and let her know that he would be late. Sure, Rebecca could have spent hours on end chatting and hanging out with her friends, but most of them lived overseas. She could have spent time with her mother, but she lived faraway, and talking to her was also out of the question because she had to learn to live on her own and not constantly rely on her mother. Rebecca hated shopping or partying or any type of socializing, and so had no other choice than to stay at home...and think. Most days, she didn't mind being alone, but today was an entirely different story. She had built up a rage to end all of modern civilization if packaged in a nuclear weapon, and that upset her even more because she couldn't explain this extreme onslaught of hostility. And yet, here she was, stewing in it, with Jacob set up as the most convenient target. Somehow, after spending most of her life living for others, all of a sudden, she was sick of it. Something had to be done, and before this black hole of self-neglect swallowed her whole... There he was...that selfish prick of a husband. “Hey sweetheart! I missed you soooo much! There was so much work to do...,” Jacob exclaimed while swooping down and showering Rebecca with tender kisses. Usually, this gesture would have been enough to placate Rebecca; instead it just added fuel to the fire. To keep herself from blowing up at him, she tried to say as little as possible, and therefore could only reply with a dry “Aha...” Of course, she was thinking about slapping that stupid grin off his face, but she figured that physical violence was still uncalled for. “Just let him push me a little bit further,” was all she could think while grinding her teeth. Everything would have gone well, and Rebecca would have calmed down if Jacob hadn't said this: “Sooo, what's for dinner, lover?” “First off, save yourself the sweet talk, and how does a fist down your throat sound for dinner?!” “Umm, not good? What's wrong, hon...” “What did I say about the sweet talk? Zip it. If you want something to eat, you can make it your damned self. I'm sick and tired of catering to your lazy ass! Yeah, you might earn most of the money, but at least you get to leave this depressing hole for eight to ten hours every day. I've done whatever you have wanted me to: I took you back after you cheated on me; I groveled before you, begging you to take me back after I cheated on you; I accepted your apology and took you back again after you falsely accused me of cheating on you; I refused a prestigious position at one of the leading international publishing companies so I could be with you; and then, I took you back again after you left me when I was pregnant and then miscarried!!! Why? Because you were so pathetic, I thought you were going to slit your wrists! And still...that's not enough, is it?! I'm a good housewife! I stay in shape for you! I do things in the bedroom that I could never, NEVER, mention to a living soul! And most importantly...I desperately want children, but because you're still so “traumatized,” I can never have children! I mean what's the point of this damn six-bedroom house, if we aren't going to fill it with children...or other people anyways! And why do I settle for not having any children? Because I am TOO FUCKING GOOD TO YOU!!!!” Storming out of the house, she heard Jacob yell something, but she couldn't have cared less about him at that moment. Rebecca was feeling energized and free as she drove off in her car. She didn't know where she was going or what she was going to do once she got to this unknown destination, but she felt lighter than she had felt since...well, ever. It hit her about fifteen minutes later: hunger...and something else, something rather sneaky... She hadn't meant to blow up at him like that. What would happen once she got back home? Will Jacob have changed the locks? Put her things on the street? File for divorce? This guilt and anxiety started to eat away at her in much the same way as she wanted to eat away at burritos, hamburgers, and huge bowls of spaghetti drowned in tomato sauce and shredded cheese. Chewing on her lower lip until it bled, she fought with herself about whether she had been in the right or the wrong. “Yes, a conversation was necessary, but that wasn't a conversation...that was me tearing him a new asshole... It's my fault because I could have just stopped catering to him all the time, and haven't I always been that way towards everyone? He should be more sensitive towards my needs and wants though too...” This mental and emotional war of worlds went on until Rebecca could have passed for one of the wax figures at Madame Tussaud's. Old habits die hard, and before Rebecca could smother the last bit of life out of her self-destructive selflessness, it came back with a vengeance. She decided to not only get herself something to eat, but also decided to get Jacob his favorite fast food. While waiting for the food, she thought to herself, “We'll get through this somehow. We just need to have a calm, more thorough conversation about this. We can work it out.” A new spring in her step, smile on her face, and food in her hands, she was ready for a new start. For a new Rebecca, who could be selfless and take care of herself as well. She couldn't wait. However, she would have to wait forever for she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her stomach. She was confused. Confused as to why she was losing control over her body. Confused as to why her shirt was getting wetter and wetter and darker and darker. Confused as to why the ground was getting closer and closer to her face. Confused as to why the world around her was getting darker and darker. Somehow she now knew what was happening as she started crying. “No...I can't...not now...” was all she could say before everything went completely dark.                                                                       

The next morning the police reported that a young woman named Rebecca Marie James had died from a gunshot wound to the abdominal region at the age of 28. On an even sadder note, her unborn child had also died. To this day, nobody knows who shot her or why. Many people who knew her intimately, not that there were many people who knew her to begin with, also asked themselves what her last thought could have been. If they had truly known her, it would have become clear that the last thought would not have been of what she would lose. Even though it seems silly, she could only think of getting her husband his food.

Letters (Part One)

Dear everyone who crosses my path, Why the frack are you staring at me? Is there something wrong with my appearance? Are my shoelaces untied? Is my fly undone? Am I bleeding profusely? Do I have all of Kpop-dom sitting on my head? What is up with the staring? Is this possibly the first time you've ever seen a human being? When you guys (and girls) stare at me like that and it's not just an isolated incident, there are a few things that happen: 1) I worry, 2) I get paranoid, and 3) I get pissed off. Luckily for you, my parents raised me to not randomly punch people in the face, which is good for you, but not necessarily so healthy for an angry Bettina. If you're staring at me because I'm tall and fat, I know. If it's because of the big boobs, I know. If it's because I have fish eyes, this too I know. As much as you people are staring, I might as well move to Asia or Africa because at least then I could understand the staring. The bizarre thing is, about 99.99% of the people staring at me are fellow Europeans and Americans. Congratulations! You've all been deemed impolite d-bags, who should know better and should be ashamed of yourselves. Thank you for helping me reaffirm my choice in future continent of residence. Sincerely, Borderline Ticked-Off

Much-needed Update

Hey everybody, I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while. I know you've gone with longer periods of radio silence, but still. I haven't posted in so long because I wanted to prep some countdown posts for my blog, but I can't seem to focus or get my internet to cooperate with me long enough to get much of anything accomplished. In addition to that, school has taken over most of my daily life (as it should). So what's been going on with me? A cold, mostly. Oh, and research for my two papers that are due by the end of this month. Of course, there's always K-Pop to listen to...oh, but wait...you guys don't even know about that development, do you? Well, that is unless you've been paying attention to my Facebook or have actually been around me these last few months. Anyways, the plan for the next few posts will be a series of countdowns. They should be very video-heavy, and hopefully, quite enjoyable. Also in the works, videos of yours truly. Yes, I want to try and post videos of myself. Why? Because I'm that self-absorbed. I don't know. Look forward to all the fun! Take care, Bettina

Things I am grateful for

Since today is Thanksgiving, I have decided to compile a list of things/people I am grateful for. Hence the title "Things I am grateful for"... I know, how very original. Just read...or don't. 1) Being back in school: Let's face it, there's nothing more sobering than returning to school and realizing how stupid you are compared to all dem youngsters out there. If I had at least had a job that utilized my educational skills then I could overlook this nagging feeling of inadequacy, but that just wasn't the case. However, I do love being back in school. It provides me with certain challenges that can be quite painful sometimes, but I would much rather take this kind of stress than having to witness the slow and excruciatingly painful decay of my brain. 2) A lack of hand sanitizers: Thank you Germany for not being obsessed with sterilization! Sure I've seen antiseptic sprays, but I can count off on one hand how often I've seen them. You just don't see people here whip out their hand sanitizers everytime they've thought about touching something. If you want clean hands you simply wash your hands with water and soap. What a novel concept, right? Plus, this also means that you won't hear "Oh, I can skip washing my hands. I'll just use the hand sanitizer." after someone uses the restroom. *shudder* 3) Public transportation: I don't have to worry about gas. I don't have to worry about parking. I don't have to worry about traffic. Sure, I have to share a space with other people and sometimes I have to stand in the bus or street car, but I'll gladly do that than be worried about all of these car-related issues. Oh, and you're not necessarily faster if you do decide to drive. So that's out the window too. Here's another bonus for you party people: You don't have to worry about drinking and driving. You can go out and have a few drinks and then just stumble into the bus or street car. 4) Eye candy: Sorry people, I have needs too. The number of attractive people is quite a bit higher here than at my last place of residence. I know: "How dare you be so superficial? Have you looked in the mirror lately?" Uhh, yeah, I have. I know what I look like. I'm not saying that I want to date a skinny or overly pretty guy or anything like that (a wicked sense of humor, intellect, and amazing voice do trump muscle mass), but I can still appreciate physically attractive people. To me it's more like going to a museum and appreciating the various works of art. "Oh, how can you objectify people like that?" It's simple: Until I become acquainted with you on a personal level, you're another living creature sharing this space. It's not like I'm going out of my way to ignore people, but if you don't give me the slightest of clues that you want to interact with me then I'm not gonna bother you. 'Nuf said. 5) The expected: My parents: I would like to express my gratitude for having tolerant and accepting parents. Yes, we have our issues, but when I look at the way some of my friends are treated by their parents and families, I am fully aware that my parents are genuinely good people. They don't care if you're gay/straight/bi/trans/black/blue/Hispanic/Asian/etc., but you can't be an asshole or complete douche. My parents never mentioned how they felt about other groups, so I grew up blissfully unaware of this unnecessary hate and discrimination that so many people seem to have. My parents might have made a few mistakes in their time, but raising a bunch of blindly prejudiced fools was not one of them. 6) My siblings: I have to mention them because otherwise war might break out (j/k...kinda). Both of them still have quite a bit of growing up to do, and they really need to learn how to become more self-aware, but both have their hearts in the right place. So, you two, continue to work on yourselves and everything should be fine. 7) My nephew: Yes, he deserves his own spot on this list. He's such a cutie. I can already tell that he's gonna be a complete heartthrob, and he's going to be one of the coolest people ever because anyone who can enjoy RuPaul, "Gangnam Style," and Family Guy is a shining beacon of hope for humanity. Then again, I am his aunt, so he has no choice but to be cool, right? (I'm not conceited at all...) Who knows, maybe I'm just really grateful to have a disciple to corrupt. *mwahhahaha* 8) The kitties(!!!): Of course, the kitties deserve a place here. They're kinda like my children. My moody, fluffy, children with claws. Without them life would honestly be terrible. Sure they can be irritating, but there is this unconditional love, and in a world filled with people who, at times, fake feelings of love and compassion in order to gain some kind of benefit or advantage, I can come home to my cats and know that they at least don't hate me. 9) The people who accept me for who I am: Some of you know that I have said that life would be easier if everyone just hated me, and it's still true. If everyone hates you then you don't have to care about what you say or do. In fact, I still don't know why you guys like me (or merely tolerate me) or miss me. However, it's you, who make life more tolerable, naughty and fun. 10) Booze: Yeah, I needed one more point so that people wouldn't be confused by a list that only includes nine points. Alcohol definitely is my drug of choice. Seriously, can't you hear my liver screaming. Just kidding, if it were to actually start screaming, it certainly wouldn't be because of the friggin' booze. Anyway, that's it. If you've made it this far without bleeding profusely from your eyes and ears, congratulations! Yeah, that's all you're gonna get. I mean, what do you want? A cookie? Some kind of medal? Get outta here! Get off da friggin' internets and spend some time with your family unit of choice, okay? Happy Thanksgiving to everyone and bonne chance with surviving Black Friday...ugh, I know, I feel so bad for you. All those people going psycho over stuff that they're only buying because it's marked down...I mean, the volume is insane, and try talking to customers with all that noise and suffering from a sore throat...it's like you're at some kind of night club, except the music sucks (well, mainly because there is no music) and there is no booze (wouldn't it be more fun for the employees to be completely liquored up?)...oh wait! Something else to be grateful for: NO BLACK FRIDAY!!! Because it doesn't exist in Germany! Thank you! Yes, winning! Winning! Oh, I mean, oooohhhh... Until next time!!!

Adventures in Dreamland (Episode Zero)

Dark hallways, soft red and pink lights, rooms on either side filled with men and women involved in intimate conversations and other activities. How did I get here? Why am I in this building? Trying not to attract attention to myself, I start to wander past the rooms, highly aware of my own breathing. Every so often I can't help myself and peek into the rooms: Men with their hands on womens' knees and thighs, whispering sweet nothings into their ears. Women seemingly hanging onto their every word and laughing at the appropriate intervals. I know that I'm here for a reason, but I also know that I need to get out as quickly as possible. Right in front of me the hallway opens up into a bigger room filled with more people. What do I do now? If someone sees me, they'll think that I belong here and I will never make it out. I glance around and am relieved that noone is paying attention to me, but as I try to move forward, one of the women looks right at me. Our eyes meet and my breathing stops, but after what seems like an eternity, she gives me the slightest of nods and I sneak past them into one of the few empty rooms. I look around and try to gather my thoughts. I try to calm my racing heart. There is another door I can use as an exit, but as I move towards it, I hear a man behind me. "Excuse me. Where do you think you're going?" Please don't turn around, just run. However, I can't and I slowly turn around to see a man in a business suit. Brown, slicked-back hair, piercing eyes, a no-nonsense expression, and exuding the air of superiority. He isn't the most attractive man, but I can't seem to tear myself away from him and his stare. "You're new, aren't you?" No, no, no, this is a big misunderstanding. I want to explain, but I can barely breathe. Suddenly, someone else joins us: the woman who saw me a few moments earlier. She tries to distract him. "Oh no, you don't want her. She's too inexperienced, but I will be more than happy to assist you." I'm grateful to have her in the same room. "No need. I saw her first and she seems perfectly capable of fulfilling my needs. Besides, if she's so inexperienced, I will see to it that she only works for me. Is that a problem?" "No. No, of course not. Would you like for me to leave?" "No, that won't be necessary. This will be quick." What?! No, this can't be happening. What does he mean with "quick"? I want to defend myself, to run, but I'm trapped in my own body. All I can do is stand and stare, my naturally wide eyes growing increasingly wider. He starts to walk towards me, and I can see a hint of a smirk. It feels like eons have passed before he reaches me, before he stands so close to me that I can smell him, before I can hear his calm and steady heartbeat. His voice is deep, smooth and almost soothing as he places his lips closely to my ear and gives me the first instruction: "Take off your clothes." I take a few steps back and raise my fingers to the buttons on my shirt. Even though I'm so nervous, I somehow manage to skillfully unbutton my shirt and let it fall to the floor. After that, I remove the rest of my clothes until I'm completely naked and exposed. I try to look at him, so he can tell me what to do next. He seems pleased. "Lay down on the bed." I look around for the bed and lay down so I can look up at the ceiling. Pretty soon, I see him lifting up the covers and getting into bed next to me. "Turn around and face me." I shift onto my side and find myself face to face with him. Our noses are touching each other and I can't stand looking him directly in the eyes without my eyes fluttering wildly and threatening to shut on me, so I just stare at his chest. "Put your leg around me." I steady myself by putting my hand on his arm, but accidentally place my leg between his legs at first. Always so clumsy, even here, with him. "Sorry," is all I manage to say and quickly place my leg on top of his. I can feel it, I know it's there, but I'm nervous. Is it the fear to disappoint? I can feel the anticipation building. I can feel him. What if I don't fulfill his expectations and needs? My heartbeat is getting louder and stronger with each passing moment. Why do I care? So close, almost...

Conversations with Myself (Part One)

I can hear her slink up to me. That look of pure disgust and utter amusement at my suffering. I don't want to listen to what she has to say, but she'll say it anyway. She always does. What a mess... You really have a knack for fucking things up. However, I can't say that I'm surprised. It was only a matter of time before you screwed up this relationship. It wasn't a relationship. Not like that. We were...are friends. Really? But you certainly would have liked one with him. What was your plan with this...boy anyway? A bit of corruption? Were you going to take his innocence and introduce him to your world of perversion? Shit! She really knows how to drag out my darkest thoughts. What an annoying bitch! I wouldn't have let that happen... Oh my gosh! That's right, I forgot...he's your SUNSHINE! You really are a piece of work. Was he going to save you from yourself? From your depression? From me? You really thought that, didn't you? So stupid. You know, with your stupidity, I'm surprised that you don't just forget how to breathe. That's really enough. Oh no, I'm not done. Yet. You do know that she's better for him...don't you? Look at you, you're older than him. She's actually in his age group. She's prettier, cuter, probably smarter, quirkier, more innocent...oh, and far less depressing. Just imagine it, a year with you and the kid will be half as cynical as you, on anti-depressants, and contemplating suicide every time he looks at your sad face. Oh, and don't even get me started on the sex. Your last boyfriend couldn't stand the sight of the jiggly mess you've become so much that he couldn't even stomach the thought of fingering you. How was your sex life with the kid going to work out? Were you going to scar him for life? I can't help but feel sorry for him! Poor kid. I know how traumatizing it is for me to watch you masturbate, so I can only imagine what horrors he managed to escape. Her laughter at my misery. I can't stand it. Tears roll down my face and she laughs even more. Yes, I know. I was stupid for thinking that happiness and love would ever be able to find me. She leaves me, but the laughter lingers. I have been defeated by her again, only a hollow shell yearning for death to strike me down. I should be so lucky. My true punishment will be survival and the knowledge that she will return.

Temptation Calling

Or texting, as it was in my case. In order to explain this, and how I came to the realization that I must be stupid, let's go back a few weeks to St. Patrick's Day. Naturally, I was at work because that's where I always seem to be when others are off living life and having fun. As fate would have it, I would wind up repeatedly helping customers in the canning room. One of these customers happened to be a fairly attractive young man whose right leg was wrapped up. I talked to him about what had happened to his leg and found out that he had a tear in his patella. It was light conversation...and then came the shocker: "Are you single?" "Yes." "Can I have your number?" "Sure." Without thinking, I had handed over my phone number to a stranger, an attractive stranger, but a stranger all the same. Honestly, I wasn't expecting to hear from the guy, but, surprisingly enough, he started texting me the next morning.
Maybe I should have taken the texting as a sign. I know I'm a bit ancient when it comes to modern-day courtship (not to mention that I've had so little action that I'm practically still a virgin), but the texting seemed a bit off. However, I decided to overlook it.
Maybe I should have taken the breakdown of my cellphone as a sign that this potential connection was not meant to be. However, I still ignored everything and bought a new battery and phone. Why? Because of a boy.
Another warning sign came up when I offered to meet up with him and got no response. Why would you ask for someone's phone number and not want to at least occasionally hang out with that person?
After about a week of not hearing from the guy, I decided that maybe this wasn't quite meant to be and was determined to occasionally send him texts, but not get my hopes up. Of course, this was the sign the universe needed to throw me a curveball and send him through my line at work. This encounter led to a seemingly renewed interest in communications between the two of us.
He had supposedly helped to set up a fairly popular adult entertainment site on Facebook, which I was able to verify later on. I liked the basic concept of the site and felt that this open view about sex might be a potential unifying factor. Unfortunately, I was then also able to find out, thank you social networking sites, that he was not only in a relationship, but that his girlfriend is also currently pregnant with their child.
Really... I mean, really? REALLY?! PFFF, WHAT THE FRACK?!?! Why would you ask me if I'm single and ask me for my phone number? Why didn't I ask him if he was single from the beginning?
So, I wound up torn between being pissed at him and at myself. Well, I still am. However, I resisted the voices telling me to do what I had seen my sister do: Shoot first, ask questions later. I needed to know if this information was the real deal or just plain false/antiquated, but I didn't want to walk into the situation with guns blazing. I wanted to lure the guy in and then, when he felt safe and comfortable, gently feel my way through to the truth.
Needless to say, that kinda fell through. After telling me that he missed me and really wanted to see me and that we should really hang out at some point (had I not previously suggested this?), I had to tell myself that I needed to find out the truth, and if need be, kick him to the curb.
And that brings us to yesterday... I went on my lunch break, turned on my phone, and received another text from him. We chatted, one thing led to another, and he asked me if I would have sex with him after I was done with work. What? Sex offered to me on a silver platter? The bestest gift anyone could ever offer me? Now let's ignore that I'm going to be standing on my feet for almost eight hours (trust me, I would welcome the time I got to spend on my back afterwards), get off of work at midnight, have to be up at six in the morning, and am therefore supertired (and yes, I get the irony of me still being awake at this time...I mean, I might as well have said yes to the sex). In addition to that, let's overlook me being on my period and not wanting bloodied-up nether regions to be the first sexual impression. Oh yeah, the guy's in a relationship and going to be a dad! And I don't even know if the girlfriend knows about our interactions...
I thanked him for the generous offer (my parents raised us kids to always be polite), but declined due to my schedule. Needless to say, he had a bit of a hissy fit (ever heard of masturbation?). He stated that he could always find someone to sleep with him (yes, it's called your right and your left hands), and of course, my reaction was to get mad and tear into him (you cross the bull, you get the horns), which caused him to apologize (destroying egos, it's a talent). Here's the thing, I'm not a teenage girl blinded by "love," so if you think you can pressure me into having sex with you or doing some crazy shit, that won't work with me. I've had the pleasure of being in abusive relationships early on in my life, and so I've come to learn that I might as well be alone than be a puppet. I was raised to do the right thing, even if that means making some hard decisions. I don't mean to brag, but making hard decisions is my specialty because if someone threatens me with fewer friends and sex, I feel alone most of the time anyway, so even though I care, I know that it isn't worth the pain in the long run.
So, what's the current status? I didn't have sex with him (I would have loved to), he is in a relationship (and she doesn't know about our interactions), and I feel stupid and like the biggest joke in the universe. It's either people who need mothers and therapists, people who want to make fun of me, or who just want to use me for their own selfish agendas.
Now mind you, I don't care about an fwb-type of relationship, or even having sex with someone who is already in a relationship, as long as everyone is on the same page. However, if someone doesn't know about it then they probably wouldn't be okay with these "extracurricular activities," and if you're going to become a parent then you should focus on your child first (at least most of the time).
Anyway, I've cried a little bit, even though I didn't want to. I'm mad at myself for handing out my number and for not having sex (hello, we all know how badly I've been wanting some physical loving!), and I'm upset with this guy.
So, the conclusion is that I must be stupid. However, I'm sure that with a lot of booze and battery power, this crisis shall also pass.

Adventures in Jobland

As some of you are aware of (and by some, I mean like all two of you), I suffered from mild hypothermia as a result of my last attempt at making some money around two months ago. As a result, I had to quit my job of delivering newspapers. Oddly enough, the universe decided to take a break from laughing at my pathetic excuse for a life and threw me a bone. The bone came in the form of a job offer from Wal-Mart, which I gladly took. Of course, since the universe is worse than M. Night Shyamalan (sorry Mr. Shyamalan), there just had to be a twist: I now work 90 minutes away from home. I wouldn't mind a commute...if I could take a bus/street car/train/etc. So, I've managed to trap myself just a little bit. I'll deal with it for now, and hopefully, I can come up with a decent solution (which I should since I now spend 15 hours...on the road...by myself).
As much as one hears horror stories about working at Wal-Mart, I haven't come to find it that terrible. That's probably because I have this habit of having the almost opposite reaction to situations than the average person would. So, the worse a situation is expected to be, the more, dare I say, positive of a reaction I tend to have to it.
I've come to realize that some of the worst customers are actually Wal-Mart employees (go figure). Self-checkouts can be great when you have a steady stream of customers coming through, but some people just don't get that self-checkouts are there so you can ring yourself up. It's weird because most people can tell you that suicide means to kill oneself, but those same people seem to not know what self-checkout means. Hmmm...
In addition to that, most people don't know how to shop or organize their groceries, and yet they all seem to know how I'm supposed to do my job. Here's the deal: You shop for all non-food items first, and then you go through the grocery section (dry items first and dairy/frozen/other refrigerated items last). The second rule is that unless you're bagging your items yourself, you should put the items on the belt in the order you expect the cashier/bagger to bag them. Remember people, I can't read your minds and if you want to have a speedier checkout, you're going to have to help me at least a little bit.
Now, do I expect my customers to read this blog and learn from it? No, of course not. I'm idealistic, not delusional. I never expect anyone to pay attention to me, but who knows, maybe I can provide some entertainment for someone.
Since it's almost time for me to get ready for bed, I'm going to finish this entry here. However, I will do my darndest to keep everyone on the up and up about what's going on in my corner of the universe.

Alla prossima!

Foray into Jobland

This blog entry was intended to talk about my first week at the first job I've had since July 2009. That is until I managed to screw up my body temperature after the first morning at work. So, what kind of job did I manage to get? Drumroll please...Newspaper carrier. Yeah, that's how I feel too.
Don't worry about me though. I had to call in and quit the job today (yes, it would have only been my second day). I'm not proud of it, and had I thought the situation through more thoroughly, I wouldn't have applied for this job in the first place.
I didn't mind carrying out newspapers...even after slipping and busting my knee on someone else's driveway. I didn't mind the physicality of the job. Trust me, I need to lose at least 50% of my current weight, so from that perspective, the job would have been a godsend. What I did mind was that I was jumping from an extremely hot car out into the extreme cold and vice versa. Multiple times. For two hours. Now, I've spent a couple of hours out in the cold, but I was out in the cold that whole entire time, and so it didn't take that much of a toll on my body. Unfortunately, the extreme temperature switches caused everything to feel way too cold for me, even in a heated house, dressed in sweats, wrapped up in a comforter. After several unsuccessful attempts at falling asleep (two hours worth) because everything was just too damn cold, I put on a robe, and sure enough, I finally managed to fall asleep after 15 minutes. Fastforward to 1:15 a.m.: My alarm went off, and I woke up drenched in sweat and feeling terribly nauseous. After trying to work my way through feeling hot and cold at the same time, and fighting against urges to vomit and pass out for almost two hours, I made the difficult decision (for me at least) to go against my principles and tossed in the towel.
Afterwards I went back to bed and passed out for a few more hours.
I do feel a bit better now, but now I'm back to square one jobwise.
As for you readers, I guess the moral of this story is to be aware of one's limitations, and know when it is absolutely worth killing yourself over a job and when it is time to back down. Don't quit a job just because your body feels sore or you feel a bit tired. However, if you're so sick that you have to go to the ER, and your job had a major and direct role in this, then you should definitely consider your options.
Well, I'm finally done with my rambling.

As always, lots of love from my little bubble in the universe.

Take care,
Bettina

Home Life (1)

Here I am, standing in my brother's room...wondering why in the world I have been stuck with doing his job. It is 10 at night. My mother's sleeping in the room across the hall, and even though she has to be up by 5 in the morning, everyone is still wide awake, loud, and borderline obnoxious. I can hear my brother laughing in the garage, my sister and her boyfriend are also still laughing, my father is either drifting off to sleep or (when he is awake) making borderline inappropriate jokes and just generally talking way too loudly. I just want to sit back and relax in a dimly-lit room. Who knows, maybe watch some Anthony Bourdain: No Reservations.
No, instead I'm stuck cleaning out the litterbox in my brother's room. Why? Because he is incapable of doing it himself, and my sister asked me to. So, I decided to be nice. Of course it didn't help that my father told me to be flexible. I may be a quarter of a century old, but due to a lack of a job and having to live with my parents, I don't have a choice but to listen to my parents. Not that it really matters because whatever I do I will always be Miss Inflexible to my father. Oh well, such seems to be my fate.
Fortunately, everything seems to have finally calmed down, so I can now sit down and take a few deep breaths.
Here's to the end of a hectic and loud day...

Until some other time,
Miss Inflexible