#62 Post-data stories and uneventful days

The small details is what matters

The small details is what matters

My dear aliens, what can I say today if my life consists on being recluded between four walls of a hostile environment surrounded by torturous theories and heavily coloured sheets. Nothing. This post has no purpose, no reason to be, no content, no nothing. I apologise for my failure but as my promise stand, I want to report to you on this day and give you something.

I have no words. I am speechless. I’m sorry. My life is boring.

P.S.: At least let me give you an story.

I called him from the hospital. It wasn’t anything serious, I just fell over abd twisted my ankle. You add my inexistent tolerance to pain and it results in me desesperately calling my boyfriend, crying and begging him to come to me. It wasn’t such a big deal, but apparently I made a great freaking job in scaring him and now I was heartfeltly regretting the consequences. Damn.

We got home and after leaving my stuff on the side of the door, he left and went directly to our bedroom and I have yet to see anymore of him.

I open the doow to our bedroom slowly, curious of the why of his reclusion, already feeling that it had to do something with me but too frightened to ask; or knock on the door and expose myself yo his rejection, for that matter. The room is bright with the afternoon sun and our romm seems just like usual, a  little messy maybe but that has nothing to do with the man lying on his belly, with a pillow effectively blocking any sight and his hands clenched over our beautiful bed covers. 

I walk over and sit down next to him, putting a hand in the closest patch of skin I can find and feel his warmth immediately. It doesn’t calm me down but it helps because he is here. I feel I should be grateful that he hasn’t stormed out, even though I do not quite understand how we got here.

I don’t speak because I don’t want to and because I don’t get what are we doing here, why are we feeding each others sore moods in this precise moment, or why we are upset, or over what. Tom is not one to offer deep talk and so I know this is going to be long and exhausting, and because I don’t want to be, because I love this man, who has yet to face me, so much, I don’t want this waful day to turn back like that. 

An hour. 

An hour and  a half.

Almost two hours.

– You scared me.

– What?

– You twisted your ankle and called me as if you were about to die. Are you crazy? I almost lost it thinking you were at risk, that something happened to you, you know…

I run over every fucking terrying scenario of you… I though you…

Silence

– And you just twisted your ankle.

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#63 Almost didn’t make it and questions about being a teaching assistant

Things feel weird, days are long and I am a week away from my (temporary) freedom.

Whatsup, aliens? Had a good day? Thought I wouldn’t make it today and so mark a second failure in the brief history of this posts? Ha! You were wrong!

So what I did today … Library. That’s it. A whole lot of nothing in the morning which includes staring at my laptop’s screen and deciding that no matter how much my life is going to suck and no matter for how long, as fast as I get to the US I will get a macbook; dancing around my room and regreting, a whooole lot of regreting. In the afternoon, lead by example of my supreme leader and lovely friend, I went to the library to pretend to study and stop regreting. Little improvement but we are getting there.

I HAVE NEWZZZZZ!!!!

So basically, you should know what comes but some of my aliens are so oblivious as this resident alien, so I get and so I repeat it now, I AM GOING TO THE STATES SOOON!! I got a TA and so for and so forth but the real newz is that my friends and I decided to make vlogs of it!!!! Aliens you will see your resident alien’s face!!!! Excited? No??? Well, that’s unexpected… Anyway, we are going to try and make it happen, and you will know about it because I will tell you about it. As usual, any comment as long as it is constructive, positive or at least polite, is very welcomed my dears!! We are going to make our first attempt later this month and then start vlogging from then on. Keep in touch to know more!!

Pic not mine. Credit below.

Pic not mine. Credit below.

Also I wanted to say that I plan to make a post about the process of becoming a teaching assistant, from the stage where I am now which basically is not knowing what a TA is, to everything that might be useful so let me know if there are specifics I should address.

And that’s it aliens, night night and dream life!

Mei Mimi: (soon to be) Resident Alien

Credit

#65 #64 – Ovaries, mothers and bribing

My ovary is trying to pop through. I have a small wound in my lip (which feels like death) and I swear I just saw someone pout as she came in to the the library with a giant cup of, what I assume is, coffee. Actually, no, it was a tiny cup but she genuinely was sad to be here at this time in the goddam morning (nine-ish).

I was meant to make these posts everyday until the end of the count-down and as usual failed in my first attempt (jesus christ, did they just switched on the air conditioning? Jeez, welcome to Alaska, Mei!). Anyway, back to what I was saying, I am here to talk.

resident aline writes on paper exampleFirst things first. I wanted to tell you how incredibly annoying creative minds are. Do you have to study ‘ethics’? Here, an idea to write. And since I am not home and I decided to leave all my electronic devices there in pro of my focus in ‘ethics’ and only ‘ethics’ I rsorted to write this in a white sheet meant to stuff principles and virtues (‘ethics’). I blame my friend also. She is late and I needed her to induce me to study. Well, that ain’t happening, right? Lets write this quickly and hope it’s over before she gets here.

Well, that marvelous idea I had and that I told you about was that of the unrealistic portrayal of moms in fiction. I absolutely blame a terrible Sidney Crosby fanfic for making me question the literary value of anything and come across these thoughts. Also, I just noticed that friends in my local library sit apart so they can study better. I don’t get it, friends are supposed to be there in the good and bad and this is terrible, believe me, so my conclusion is that their friendship is crap.

Well, the thing with this mom’s fiction I’m telling you about is that they are sweet, too sweet. I am going to go ahead and say that I have the most wonderful mom in the whole wide world, buuuut what you read in fiction is  just too much that even my mom seems a monster.

Take for instance when I moved back from my apartment in Manchester. To the question “do you need all of these?” in fiction it would’ve been like:

<< My mom turned around and sweetly asked:

Do you need all of these? With an all teeth, perfect and genuine smile in display, with a tone so low that only someone with superpowers could hear it and all her love for me evident in the interaction. >>

You get me? Now, of course this is not like my mother because she is sweeter than candy but if by any chance this was the case, I believe my mom would been more like (this is allllll hypothetical):

<<My mom turned around with her hands full with my stuff and annoyed as usual she asked:

Do you need all these? With a frown in her face, and now by imitation game in mine, a clear sign of her profound dissapointment, with a high-pitched tone and her long forgotten love for me missing in the interaction. To all this I reacted as if mom just invaded my Poland and you know, the Third World War started. >>

If this is familiar to you, leave a comment 🙂

And I get it, it is extremely complicated to translate reality into words, certainly not genres as realism and naturalism, despite the constant attention to detail, could make it happen, but there are limits as in everything in life. Mother and daughter relationships are complecated, usually because we are very alike, also because cohabiting is genuinely tough, especially when all you care about is freedom and mom reminds you of the rule. This happens with guys as well. I can tell you and I can also promise you that when you leave home your relationship with your family, even if its ideal, will improve. It must be something about appreciation of the things that they do for you or something. But jeez, there is people out there, and I don’t mean fanfic writers who honestly do great help to the boredom of this world and the recreational and imaginative necessities of the fandoms, but people out there who would not even try writing seriously and yet, get published.

Well, that’s it.  I gave my rant of the day and I am happy. Back to study. Oh, also, I feel like yesterday bribed the US government to let me in legally so lets hope I can get an interview in the embassy done soon and continue ticking off days of this count-down to fly to town. That’s all, not all I have to do is hide this before my friend arrives and pretend I’ve been a good girl all along. Keep me the secret, good?

Mei Mimi: the (soon to be) Resident Alien

P.S.: Also, if you see this in iadorozu.wordpress.com, no worries, it’s me 🙂