Death and his touch

In my circle of friends, many of them have come in contact with death. Of course everybody comes into contact with it eventually, since death is part of life. Without death, what would life be? We wouldn't be able to appreciate the life that we have. If I ever had the choice between a mortal or an immortal life without the possibility of dying, I'd pick the mortal life. Of course I'm curious about the future, but without a deadline for life, there would be no motivation.

Lately I've heard stories of people I know losing a family member, which made me start wondering about my own life. A cousin of mine lives in a small house with her daughter, her boyfriend, and her sister, and she has taken in our grandmother and her live-in-caretaker. My grandmother is not well. She is diabetic, anaemic, with kidney failure and since last week she also has a broken arm. Seeing her like this makes me think about how her life used to be.

My grandmother's life was not easy. This woman was married to a man I did not know well, and she bore him five children. It is now more than ten years since he died, and she still lives on. Of her five children she only has regular contact with her eldest son and her youngest daughter, my uncle and my mom. How this happened, I do not know. My grandmother and grandfather weren't rich, but they were rather wealthy. They had a maid, a big house with two stories, and their eldest son lived with them with his wife and four children. On a living room wall hung several pictures, my grandparents in their younger days and their parents. The wall of the staircase showed the university degrees their grandchildren had. I only remember my grandfather being scary, sitting in his big bed in the master bedroom, ordering people around. It's my only memory of him.

I remember the days that I'd sit with my grandmother and played card games with her. And how I was always told to run upstairs to her bedroom at night and tell her it was dangerous to smoke in bed. She has this green massage chair that I loved to sit in and pretend to be important, even though I were still far too small for it. (Nowadays I'm bigger than her, and it still doesn't get all the spots...) We used to watch telly together in her room at night when I was actually supposed to sleep, or I'd watch her cook her delicious food in the big kitchen.

I have always been amazed at the fact that she and my uncle would get up early in the morning to buy fantastic breakfast home for the rest of the family. They'd always be packed up in brown paper that could stand the oil, and it would be kept together with a red rubber band. I can still remember how they smelled and tasted. My grandmother loves certain foods which she cannot eat any longer due to her diabetes. She still does it sometimes, like a naughty little child. And she loves to give me money that I'd have to deny, because my mom would never let me. But of course then she'd still sneakily pass it to me, just because she could.

"Take it! Just take it already! Your mom doesn't have to know, just take it. I want to give it to you, I'm your grandmother! Go treat yourself to something nice, consider it a birthday present from me. Or a Christmas present. Perhaps a New Years present. Just because I haven't seen you in a while. I don't need it, you just use it. I have money, but what am I going to spend it on? So you just take it and use it. TAKE IT."

Yes, my grandmother was very persuasive. It didn't matter how much I struggled, I'd always end up with the money in my pocket. I love my grandmother, even though I don't talk to her much.

She has been in and out of the hospital lately, and I'm wondering how she feels about this. She's a fighter, but I often wonder how long she still has, and whether it would be better for her if death came soon. Is that a bad thing to think? I guess this is one of the things I ponder about at night when in bed, leaving me awake until 6 am.




She squeezed how many bowling balls out???

Ugglies

You probably know them, those furry, fluffy, hideous slippers called UGGS. From here on, I shall refer to these monstrosities as Ugglies. These days you see them everywhere, worn by that certain type of girl that is supposed to be hip, trendy and dressed the same as every other girl who tries to fit in. If you see them on a guy, respect to the guy for daring to venture into public with them, but from now on he will be known as a non-man.

These Ugglies must have been the creation of a blind alien with no sense of fashion who didn't even come up with a new idea. What could have been the reason to create these Ugglies, what could he have thought?

"Oh, these big fluffy slippers I wear are so comfortable, I don't ever want to take them off! You know what, I wont. And to prevent myself from looking stupid, I'm just going to pretend that these are the latest fashion objects and get everybody to join me in wearing these warm, comfortable, soft, Eskimo-inspired slippers. We'll all look stupid together, but everybody else will just think it's cool. Yeah~"

Stealing the ideas of Eskimos and combining them with slippers must be a million-dollar-business. Yes, let's manufacture these slippers with REAL wool, AUTHENTIC stuff and let's make them SUPER expensive too! If we sell them for lots of money, more than it costs to make them, we'll be rich I tell you, RICH! As rich as the guy who invented the internet!

So a friend of mine bought a pair of fake Ugglies. She said that she thought they were ugly, but that she just caved for the softness and comfort, and for the fact that they looked okay with an Asian-styled outfit she had. At first I laughed at her and joked that I didn't want to be seen with her any more. But I must admit, it didn't look bad. She has the looks and the skinny legs to wear them without looking like a total fool. I guess the reason I don't like them is not solely the ugliness, but also the image of the people that usually wear them. I wouldn't want to be caught dead in a pair of Ugglies, before somebody gets the wrong idea and thinks I'm the kind of girl that I have described earlier. At least my friend bought the cheap fake version for 20 euros and not the real and overpriced Ugglies.

The soft inside, keeping your feet warm in cold weather... And they do sometimes look okay on some people... And the fake versions are only 20 bucks... And I do need new shoes for the winter... And if I got them I'd make a statement that the shoes are also wearable for other people and that not everybody who wears them is without content...

...Screw it. I'm getting mine tomorrow.



Don't defriend me just because my shoes are ugly.

Naps and their takers.

A student's life is a busy life, with deadlines around every corner. Students, like myself, tend to procrastinate until it is unavoidable, after which we do not sleep all night to finish whatever assignment is due. Some of us keep going all day through, just picking up their sleeping rhythms as if nothing happened, yet others take a nap, or go to sleep earlier. Sadly for me, I am a taker of naps.

The takers of naps are divided into two groups. You have the short (power) nappers and the "i-am-going-to-sleep-for-as-long-as-my-body-wishes-me-to-sleep"-type. A short nap can be compared to a reboot of your computer if it slows down a bit, after which it will run normally again. (If it doesn't, you might want to get that checked out). A long nap is more like the sleep-mode, only to be woken after something disturbs it or if the computer just simply feels like it. (The latter is really scary at night).

I am lazy. Really, really, really lazy. I don't like to go to bed, but once I'm in it, I'm KO within 3 minutes. At least, I used to be. Before, I never took a nap, unless I was worn out because of some games I just had to play. Since my initiation into student life though, I have become... a nap taker.

The impact that this had on my sleeping life was huge. Naps became a routine for when avoiding assignments I did not wish to do, when I was bored, or just whenever I felt like it. I could no longer fall asleep immediately at night and was inhibited to sleep before 3 am. The next morning I would have to wake up early for classes, and when back at home, I'd take a nap, because I felt tired and didn't feel I could be productive anyway.

"I might as well sleep, or I'll just waste my time staring at the books and not absorb any information. If I take a nap, I'll feel refreshed! Oh yessirree, I will have myself that little nap."

Three hours later you wake up and find yourself hungry, and you can't ignore your stomach! While waiting for things to cook (because as a student, you only take microwaveable nourishment or instant noodles), you can't do any other work, because your stomach is still taking up all of your attention. After eating, you have to rest a bit to let your stomach process the food. In this stage, your body starts feeling tired again, so you take an after-dinner-nap. All warm and fuzzy from the food, you fall asleep quickly, only to wake up when it's past midnight.

Yes, past midnight. Times on the clock I have become all too familiar with. The zero that the hours start with are an indication that it is too late to do any homework. You should sleep, but it is impossible. All because of letting your body wake up from your nap when it is ready and had enough rest. With your eyes opened wide and your bed feeling uncomfortable, you stare at the clock, watching the minutes pass slowly, hoping that sleep will kick in soon, so you can still get enough sleep before your alarm clock rings. And as the night sky turns lighter and lighter and the sun starts to rise, it is as if the sun is trying to tell you it is hopeless.

"Sorry, but you're awake."




WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY~

An introduction.

In a desperate attempt to unclutter my female brain and create a neater overview on life, this is the spot where my overflowing mind can splatter all the brain-juices concerning the issues of the life of a 20 year old girl.


I can't help it, but sometimes I just feel like a gay guy trapped in a woman's body.