I need to:

• sleep
• eat properly
• get my act together
• start working on that project
• focus enough to start working on said project
• start working on my other project
• stop worrying my mother
• stop smoking so much
• stop trying to self-destruct quite as buoyantly as I have been doing in the past few days. I at least chose the right country to do it in...
• really, really badly, I need to sleep. Just 6 hours would do. Really. Please, Sandman?
• fix myself some real food and stop living on popcorn and vla. 

Short and concise. Let's see if I can manage. I've been a zombie lately. I'm also not really coherent, which will make for one hell of an essay. I'm ashamed of my performance on the smtci project meeting. I've wasted one of the two weeks for the lit review. I really need to pull myself together. Fuck. I hate this.

1. Denial

2. Anger

3. Bargaining

4. Depression

5. Acceptance

According to a certain medical-themed series (and quite possibly medical literature as well), these are the five stages of dying. 



They don't only apply to dying, do they?

... and so the dilemma that I had feared, the China vs. the Netherlands debate, has impolitely used its toes and elbows to barge into my life. I hadn't really expected it to be so... well-defined. I'd rather expected it to be simply an internal matter of idealism and motivation and, why not, unconsciousness on my part. But nooooo, it had to actually take on a tangible form!

I'm still waiting for things to settle by themselves, as they have been having a knack of doing. And I'm not counting my blessings just yet. But but but... China? Or the Netherlands? Or maybe I should just emigrate to New Zealand and buy a sheep farm...  

"Anatidaephobia" - the fear that somewhere, somehow, a DUCK is watching you. 

I just got home and am nursing a huge-ass-mofo mug of tea. My knees have new bruises on top of the old ones, my jeans are soaked down to my underwear, my fingers are numb, and this has been the best evening since I got here, hands down.

It was 17.45 and I was traipsing around the huge quad of the Containers, looking for the right address and, hopefully, the right car parked in front of the right address. Cue black BMW and new friend. Hello, new friend! D. already has all his skiing equipment loaded in the car and is eager to go. All we're missing is P., and then it's off the the Hague to meet up with A. and his friends. One hour of driving, one traffic jam and one wrong turn later, we're there: Snowland!

Park car, find entrance, squee all the way through the lobby, pay for tickets, rent boots. "Which foot first?" "The right", says I - though I am now having serious doubts that it should have been the other way around. The boots were so much love that I'm seriously considering buying a pair for winter. The boys rent skis, teach me how to clip my snowboard on and... we're off!

Four hours
three tracks
five lifts
two falls, one face-first
zero accidents
several photos, one video
one goulash soup with bread and butter
one half-an-hour break in which we laughed and chatted
several moments when I forgave A. all the gray hairs he's given me with the projects ^^
one friend in the hospital with a concussion and no idea what his name is
many successful ski jumps
two frozen gloves
minus five degrees Celsius
ten fingers sticking to frozen board bounds
two knees and one butt that haven't taken quite the beating I had expected
one hour of driving back.

One huge smile on my face.  

This has been my trip to Snowland and my first snowboarding experience. Definitely, definitely not the last.

Going to bed late at night yet again. Damn movie, so beautiful, so touching. And the most gorgeous photographs. Song tormenting me and obsessing me *pokes below*. Two days filled with giggly laughter over learning, skyping, skydiving, coffee-drinking, hair-dyeing, homework-writing, project-writing, trip-planning. My weekend, oddly empty without an unexpected person. My attachments, sprouting in the strangest, most unforeseen directions. The weather, as I've grown to like it - moody, rainy, cold, perfect. Two days filled with me-time: time suddenly not feared anymore, something incomprehensible. Questions I don't have answers for.

"what do I miss?", "what is the first thing I want to do when I go home?", "what do I want to be honest about?", "what do I want from life?", "where would it count as stopping?", "why did I choose Amsterdam?", "what do I like about this place?" Everything. Nothing.

My bathtub, my mother, my highschoolers, my park, my street, my bed, my posters, my mother's cooking, my friends, who are just as weird as I am. My independence, my need to fend for myself, my aloneness, my bike, my friends, who are not weird anymore, but still strange, my new, smaller world, my new, bigger planet. What am I doing here? The time, where did it go? Where the hell have 6 weeks gone?! But the memories they left behind are the most vivid memories I've had in my life.

 I've never been a fan of multitasking when studying. I can either focus on something or... you know, not ^__^. When I'm problem-solving, or working on a project, I can't /not/ multitask, but Wednesdays have so far been off-limits for anything but reading.

Until today. When I discovered how stimulating it can be to read and chat at the same time. I've been chatting with 5 people, on and off, for about 5-6 hours. My productivity is through the roof, and I'm only just beginning to get tired (I've been studying for 10 hours, as reference). I love this to itty-bitty-bits. 

Of course, I'll be a zombie tomorrow. Who the hell gives a flying fuck?

Um... ummm... what was that "decent update longer than a paragraph" that I thought I just heard someone mention? Wha? Fanfics? Aggy claim? Whoosa?!

I'm home. I never thought of it as home until two days ago, while I was moving my frozen behind through the throngs of tourists in downtown Brussels. I was part-happy that I was there, and part-homesick. For this home.

A load got off my mind when I got off the bus. The weather felt right, everyone was tall and fair-skinned again, the metro wasn't running, there was an accident on the other side of the road, two dogs were barking at each-other, there were many lit windows without any curtains drawn over them, revealing couples sitting in front of the TV, women cooking, children reading on the floor, rooms cluttered and uncluttered, a lamp I'd like to take for my own, bookcases, how I miss my books.

The microwave is making funny noises, I've gotten to look forward to garbage day, I froze /and/ got soaked today on the way to school, I plan on surviving for two weeks on 200 euro, it can be done, but I must behave. I need new boots and a belt, I'll be cooking Brussels sprouts two days after coming back from Brussels, where I ate no sprouts. I haven't had a good night's sleep in almost a week, I partied too hard on Thursday, laughed and talked too much during the weekend, while being out in the cold air, bought caramels and body lotion, decided I'm going to be honest as soon as the situation arises. I keep shirking away whenever the situation does arise, but it's not a good time. It's never a good time. Time is going by much too quickly, the first block is almost done. I don't know what my paper will be about, this is like the last year of university all over again, only without the self-assurance that I can do this, because I still don't entirely get the hang of the system. I want to ride my bike to school tomorrow as well, but that probably will not happen. I need to go to sleep. I want to go sky-diving. Maybe I'll crash.

... the Awesomesauce Professor is quoting Porter in a paper, after specifically (and rather jauntily) telling us, during the first lecture, that we'll fail the course if we ever do that. That's just wrong. Or... could it be... that just makes him even more awesome? Is that some Diamond-dissing I spy in the following pages? 

Later edit: I have just read the definition he proposes for stylistic innovation. I swear I'll print it on a t-shirt and wear it to class every week for the rest of the semester, just so he gets to stare at it (at the entirety of it) while he makes fun of our convoluted definitions. Pot. Kettle. Definitely black.

(you understand, I say all this with the maximum of love, respect and cherish-ness that I harbor for the man. Obviously. It's my way of showing my love. Yes, I know I am procrastinating. STFU.)

Wake up at 9, roll over, then wake up again at 10.30. Stretch like a cat, repeatedly, in the warmth of the bed-spread, then slowly and lazily go through the morning routine, letting time pass until about 1.30. Take a long, hot shower and put on loose-fitting, comfy clothes. Get on the bike, ride to the center and go down the busiest shopping streets you find. Buy jeans, to be practical, and dresses, to be pretty, and white, thick tights to look like a 3-year-old dressed up like the Ice Queen. Eat out, not caring how much money that takes out of the budget. Because, after all, this is the first free day in a month.

Go home, then, for half an hour, and set up a meeting with I., because you are both in need of some time-wasting in the sun. Get a huge-ass bruise on your leg because you are trying to teach I. how to ride a bike that is both too tall and too heavy for her. Laugh while doing so. Go to the park together and sit on a blankie, watching the ducks and other water fowl, whose names neither of you know, bathe themselves one last time and then go to bed for the night. Listen to Vienna Teng while doing so. Talk about tattoos and share cigarettes with a homeless guy with a cool haircut.

Bike home, make rosebush-and-pomegranate-flavoured tea and microwave popcorn, all greasy and very salty, just as you like them. Listen to music, read, relax in the beautiful rocking chair you bought on a beautiful day.

Today has been good.

1. Windchimes

Especially if they're porcelain. Not only do they make me instantly think of RHCP's Porcelain, they also sound like fairy-tales and unicorns (not the gay variety). 

2. Rain patter

Not the lip-lop of smooth rain, or the cliche'd rain on a tin roof. No. It's when clouds burst and you've been nonchalantly walking around town in your sandals, and there's cubic stone on the ground, and you're taking refuge under a stripy awning, having already been soaked to the bone anyway. That kind of rain.

3. Horse hooves

Because it reminds me of happier times and three-months-long summer vacations with my mother. 

4. Basses being tuned before a concert

Self-explanatory. Butterflies-inducer.

5. Radio static and white noise

I always believed that the aliens were communicating with us through it. Now I know I was right. 

... you know it's really bad when you're reading a research article and can skip the references, because you are already familiar with the referenced authors' research. Mylifeisfurry 



LATER EDIT: 

I am going to IKEA Friday! I think I'm having a heart attack from the excitement and happiness and grinning-ness and Oh. My. God. YES! Mylifeiscurrentlyawesome

By the way? *pokes song* Crows Zero OST is owning my soul. Completely unrelated to anything, of course. YAY!

I know I'm going to regret this in the morning (7 very short hours from now, and I'm only just starting), but... what the hell. Mondays can do me no wrong. Even though it's been Tuesday for 6 minutes now ^__^.
( It's mine, I found it! ^^ )
P
Bike. MY bike

Ok, I'm finding this situation increasingly odd, so I decided to blog about it.  

For the last week, various random unknown people have been friending me. What. The. Hell?! Where did you find me? Why did you friend me? Why are some of you writing in languages I can't read, much less understand?! ¬.¬ 

As I see it, the friending function is designed to either keep up with people whose entries interest you, keep in touch with IRL friends or make net-friends with people you've had previous contact with. This lj is personal, I write nothing of interest to anyone but my already-existing friends here anyway. If it was my fic-lj, I'd understand, but seriously, I don't get it. I've never come in contact with you, you do not contact me in any way either before or after friending... Please. Really. Please. Stop. I'm not all that antisocial, but this is seriously disturbing. 

Kthxbye.

[I found this cute community through lj spotlight. While actually becoming a member and posting and stuff seems like too much of a hassle (and here's the Netherlands rubbing off on me), I might be buggered keep up with the themes] 

1. Falling asleep

Because the best ideas come during those 15 minutes of routine-rolling-around-in-bed (left side, belly, right side, belly, fall asleep). That's when I make my peace, when I berate myself, when I think up stories, when I smile to myself in the dark. I never cry before falling asleep.

2. People who walk barefoot

Being connected to a flat surface through the skin on the soles of your feet takes some self-awareness and courage. You don't believe me? I was surgically attached to my socks for years before I figured this one out.

3. Bikes

I used to be into people-watching. Now, I can't think of something more restful and inspiring than walking very slowly through a bike-parking-lot and thinking up stories - for the bikes, their colors, decorations, baskets, faults, rust spots, saddle bags.

4. Sitting outside on really cold days, drinking coffee

When all the warmth in the world seems to be centered around a small point in your hands, you start feeling things with a different intensity. 

5. Boys' smiles

I've never liked girls much, as species, and the exceptions are very, very few. And although I grew out of my frustrated desire to have been born a guy, I still find myself fascinated by them. A guy of any age, when he's laughing, is warmer, more honest, more open and vulnerable than a woman could ever be. I adore making my male friends laugh just so I can be rewarded by the sight of their smile. The world seems right when they smile.

[whoever wants to treat this as a meme, go for it. And maybe link me through a comment ^^]

 ... so then why did I, on four different occasions, catch myself full-fledged grinning while walking down the street today? 

Because I am an idiot, of course. But I'm so frigging happy! And it seems that living by yourself does make you grow up a little. Because I feel like I am mature enough not to worry about it all crashing down. I used to always get suspicious when something good happened, because I felt that karma was coming to get me. Now, when all sorts of little miracles are happening around me like fireflies, I'm not afraid. What will happen, will happen. I usually exaggerate and end up anticipating a feeling that does not come as strongly anyway. Like the two-day drama. Now I am happy. Tomorrow may be a different story, but a story that has yet to happen. In the words of he-whose-name-I-can't-pronounce, fuck this shit! ^__^

Went to party. Danced ass off. Saw most amazing Japanese dude ever. Lazed around all weekend. Had awesomesauce course on Monday. Had one too many beers. Got flat tire. Climbed back of R's bike, tried to push own bike. Failed, because we are two hapless silly-people (by all means not idiots). Climbed back onto back of R's bike, R tried to push my bike. Failed. Laughed about it rest of way home. Got home. Decided to cook. Decided to go to supermarket and call friend for recipe. Called friend for recipe. Forgot recipe seconds after hanging up. Laughed about it rest of way home. Drank more beer. Watched as amazing spaghetti was being made. Ate. Drank more beer. Talked so much and yet had so much more to say. "Party" broke at 12 due to stupid schoolwork next day. Woke up today. Got Dutch bank account. Grinned my way to school. Endured school. Had funny-awkward-retarded moment with Q. Grinned my way back from school. Fixed bike. Bike is making funny noise that sounds like newly-hatched chicken. Hate it when R is right. Should work on project. Should quit smoking. Should definitely see who I can trick into giving me Dutch lessons. Can't wait for Thursday!

Yegads, look at me grinning at my left-over pasta!

... or so I've been feeling all day today. >.> I swear, four years of university taken together held less information than this master! *shakes fist at master* I feel like all I do is fucking study! And with an average of 60 pages' worth of academic research papers to read and interpret per day, who can really blame me? There's so much I'd like to be doing right noooo~w...

Like write. My Aggy claim finally got approved, and I was so itching to write the 10 fics, but I'm so spent at the end of the day that I don't even wash my tea mug before going to bed. I have yet to do laundry, yet to clean the place up a bit. I haven't checked out means of transportation and prices to Copenhagen and Paris yet. Hell, I didn't even upload last weekend's pictures! The situation is geting ridiculous.

Based on my previous experience with summer schools, I'd come here under the impression that it would be all parties, occasionally interrupted by some annoying studying. Reality likes laughing in my face, it seems. Of course I love it, however, of course the little geek in me exults when I have to make heads or tails of articles such as Networks as knowledge, Kogut, 2000 (read it, I DARE you. Then be so kind and  translate it to me as well. Preferably before tomorrow at 11.00 V.V;;;), But but but... meh. But. I can't really figure out how to voice my objections. But I would have liked to get to know more of the city. But, apart from the living conditions and implicit freedom, it feels like being back home. But I miss stuff and yet don't have enough time to miss them properly. But I've taken to biking to the supermarket, so as to turn a 15-minute walk into a 5-minute ride, only to save time. Are you kidding me?! If you'd've wanted to illustrate the point of "storming through a supermarket", I would have been your number one casting choice. Gah.

And I feel like I'm only mimicking knowing what I'm doing. I look like I know how to ride a bike. I look like I know my prerequisites. I look like I can present that analysis. And I feel like, in reality, I can't do shit.

At least I've gotten bored of being amenable, since no-one seems to pay much mind to it anyway, and have reverted back to my old, semi-bitchy self. Which is a relief, because all the energy I've been using for that purpose can now be reinvested more efficiently. Listen to me, I even talk like a research paper! V.V Fuck this shit. And now back to studying.

*emerges from Everest mountain range of papers and compulsory reading and shit* Aaaargh, argh graaagh, I'm gonna die!!!

More on life, the universe and everything to do with the first week of school coming as soon as I no longer have a minimum of 60 pages to read per day. Which will probably be, like, next year. Help... me... *is burried by avalanche of academic articles and is never heard from again*