there it is.
didn't I want to find a beautiful moment yesterday?
well, how could I forget.
it is the children, always the children.
and even if I only work with them once a week I feel better afterwards.
all week long I feel the pressure to fill this hour, to be good, to be the best teacher they ever had, I want them to like me, I want the parents to like me, it's not my native language we're speaking but it should be [I'm the first non-swede to work there] and I feel the pressure to just be good enough.
then it starts. they listen. sometimes they are loud. sometimes they don't sit on their chairs like they should. I don't care, it's better for their backs anyway. when I ask a question I get answers, they do what I tell them to, they do their work and I help and correct and make notes to myself kid a has problem this and that kid b reads really fast kid c talks so well but reads slowly kid d is shy kid e has a problem with grammar they all need to learn this and that in order to learn how to write.
then I read "charlie and the chocolate factory" to them and they listen and paint and laugh. I let them design their own chocolate cakes so they write and think and discuss without even noticing. next week they will draw comics of the awful kids with the golden tickets.
and then I say goodbye and feel light. it's not only the fact that I have a weekend to look forward to and that I didn't make a fool of myself, but
they are kids. they smile. when you say the right thing their faces open up. one time a mom considered not taking her son to class the next week because she didn't want him to be pressured too much and he want "NO BUT I WANT I WANT MOM!"
it is the best thing I know at the moment. and the most beautiful.
Fun with teh translator
I mean, that thing helps me to understand at least a bit of what the girl from far away is writing on her fb page when I shouldn't be able to understand anything at all,
but for me it's particularly funny when I run my swedish texts through it and read the english it spits out.
First bit of funny times: the "poem" I promised Jon in July.
July horniness
A long time ago
saying my thoughts
His parting words
With his head left empty and alone
We are naked on the floor
At night
Not the dark cool longer
Although it is difficult for our lungs
On the days we walk through desert
In the oasis of fountains
Does not reach one's home
To our thirsty bodies
Is dried again
and I am never hungry
but the taste of salt on the skin
a glittering mustache on his upper lip
would not you taste it?
For I must confess
-In the days when pants are glued to your thighs
I want you to River of em
now, I don't really know what "river of 'em" is supposed to mean. the infinite form "riva av" is correctly translated to "tear off". but "river of 'em" is really, really poetical. I kinda like it, as the rest of the poem.
but for me it's particularly funny when I run my swedish texts through it and read the english it spits out.
First bit of funny times: the "poem" I promised Jon in July.
July horniness
A long time ago
saying my thoughts
His parting words
With his head left empty and alone
We are naked on the floor
At night
Not the dark cool longer
Although it is difficult for our lungs
On the days we walk through desert
In the oasis of fountains
Does not reach one's home
To our thirsty bodies
Is dried again
and I am never hungry
but the taste of salt on the skin
a glittering mustache on his upper lip
would not you taste it?
For I must confess
-In the days when pants are glued to your thighs
I want you to River of em
now, I don't really know what "river of 'em" is supposed to mean. the infinite form "riva av" is correctly translated to "tear off". but "river of 'em" is really, really poetical. I kinda like it, as the rest of the poem.
three years from now.
a few years ago, only two or three, I took my picture with my webcam about two times a week. I stopped doing that for no reason, and it might seem self-centered but it is just so interesting to see. yesterday I stumbled across pictures that I first thought were three years old, but they seem to be from spring 2008. however that happened.
no. it simply has to be from the summer of 2007.
I looked at the young girl's face, yesterday, and thought "who are you? your face is so clean like nothing ever happened to you, there's a smell of fresh air around it, and those collarbones, where did you hide them? what happened to your face, it is wide open". I might post pictures to compare, but is that what it feels like to grow up? to get older? you look at your own picture and think THAT'S a photograph my children will look at 15, 20 years from now and scream "MOMISTHATREALLYYOU?"
I captured a lot of important moments with that camera. the time when I was obsessively in love with my tutor. the time when my grandma got cancer (and survived, btw). and that horrible time between the winter of 2007 and spring 2008. I look so tired. a hundred years old, like a light had been switched off. and a few weeks later, the sun shines through my window and I look concerned and sleepy but you see my face waking up. but I would never look that fresh and young and clean and open again. something changed.
I will not continue to simply complain about my life. every week I have to post something particularly beautiful or funny, so that I know that I am only 23 years old and have a face like a baby compared to that other face, three years from now.
so I will find something this week. Sign language class is something that is beautiful and funny at the same time, but the jokes are hard to understand out of context, I would have to show you. but the "your mom"-jokes have become a constant in those lessons, for example.
so, what about now? we are straddling the line between being creative dreamers and wannabes incapable of taking action, as jon said. that will change. Florence sings and in the spring I shed my skin and it will be spring again.
three years from now I will find pictures and think "what the hell happened" and by that time hopefully my face will have opened up again and a lot of good thing will have happened and love will have had a good impact on me.
no. it simply has to be from the summer of 2007.
I looked at the young girl's face, yesterday, and thought "who are you? your face is so clean like nothing ever happened to you, there's a smell of fresh air around it, and those collarbones, where did you hide them? what happened to your face, it is wide open". I might post pictures to compare, but is that what it feels like to grow up? to get older? you look at your own picture and think THAT'S a photograph my children will look at 15, 20 years from now and scream "MOMISTHATREALLYYOU?"
I captured a lot of important moments with that camera. the time when I was obsessively in love with my tutor. the time when my grandma got cancer (and survived, btw). and that horrible time between the winter of 2007 and spring 2008. I look so tired. a hundred years old, like a light had been switched off. and a few weeks later, the sun shines through my window and I look concerned and sleepy but you see my face waking up. but I would never look that fresh and young and clean and open again. something changed.
I will not continue to simply complain about my life. every week I have to post something particularly beautiful or funny, so that I know that I am only 23 years old and have a face like a baby compared to that other face, three years from now.
so I will find something this week. Sign language class is something that is beautiful and funny at the same time, but the jokes are hard to understand out of context, I would have to show you. but the "your mom"-jokes have become a constant in those lessons, for example.
so, what about now? we are straddling the line between being creative dreamers and wannabes incapable of taking action, as jon said. that will change. Florence sings and in the spring I shed my skin and it will be spring again.
three years from now I will find pictures and think "what the hell happened" and by that time hopefully my face will have opened up again and a lot of good thing will have happened and love will have had a good impact on me.
grow some big feet
it is the first night back from dublin and still the last night home again, until saturday.
there is this huge wedding, my fathers cousins son (yes) is getting married to his girlfriend. who is 25. when I heard that I looked at my watch.
I don't hear any clock ticking, but it still feels weird.
this is a short interlude, a shout-out to brietta: you lucky bastards on the north american continent! why is ivan hanging out with all of you, but not with us poor, poor europeans? you have to tell. everything. it's gonna be great, I am sure.
ireland made me actually feel better. it's a small difference, but it's important. I was there with two of my best friends and my favorite travel companions. it was a couple of days of declaring our love for one another. our closet case who was only out to me came out to the other one as well.
I realized things I didn't actually want to realize before over some pints of guinness, and that was painful. it was a stinging pain that almost made me cry instantly.
the first thought was regarding a person, and how stupid things turned out - but it feels ok knowing that this feeling might come up every couple of months or so and I'm fine with it.
It'd be more scary if I wasn't able to feel at all.
the second thing coming up was a bit stupid. for years now I have been joking about how I will surely become a therapist, or couples therapist, "when I'm a grown-up". guess what, I am growing up. I don't feel stable enough just YET but I had a moment when I realized that that was a calling, I HAD to be that. it's not only the thought that I could be one, if I wanted to, but that at some point in my life I will have to be a therapist of sorts.
I almost cried because this is scaring the shit out of me.
and then, again, dreams of sorts and communication that is going on my nerves. maybe I need advice. maybe I only want to talk about it so much because it fills empty spaces.
that girl from that country far away. I am happy she's far away. sometimes I miss her, because it was so casual. I didn't care. It was that night and now I realized she is interesting, like I am always interested in the casual girls after a couple of days. I am not in love and won't ever be but still she is annoying me. facebook destroys semi-anonymous one-night-stands in foreign countries, y'all.
anywho, she communicates like I communicated with my ex when I first met her. when I was the person who, under no circumstances, wanted to be in a relationship. she likes statuses. she answers messages, she talks, a lot, even when I first met her. but she talks about herself. she interacts a bit, reacts a bit, but never quite enough, even though she seems interested. it's a weird thing, and I shouldn't care but still I am the person who cares, and have always been.
and then her. the dreamwoman, as we call her now. I met her twice, briefly. the day after the second time I realized something was wrong. the night after that I was thinking about our wedding invitations. I haven't met her in 3-4 months now but dream about her OFTEN. and it's always the same kind of dreams. I am meant to be with her. someone else wants me but it's wrong. the last time I dreamt about her, I had another girlfriend who wanted to propose to me but i was ALL wrong. she was in the background and I knew I had to marry her and break my girlfriends heart. a few weeks ago, in portugal, I dreamt I had application sheets from women, and everyone was sort of my could-be-girlfriend. and I was reading the applications over and over again, they were all good, all the same but I couldn't make up my mind. then she came to me and asked "why are you double-checking everyone?" and I answered "because I already know who I have chosen".
I woke up at 5 am creeped out as hell because I had. already. chosen. her.
now what is that supposed to be? the love of my life? I have a creepy mind and a close relationship to my dreams, and that's important to me. but I don't want to lose myself in those dreams and I don't want to just project wishes and feelings on some person who is the victim of my made-up love.
so things are still a lot worse but feeling better. I am still confused. I have very little money left but want to go to paris. and see my friends in sweden. and then, and then, and then...
there is this huge wedding, my fathers cousins son (yes) is getting married to his girlfriend. who is 25. when I heard that I looked at my watch.
I don't hear any clock ticking, but it still feels weird.
this is a short interlude, a shout-out to brietta: you lucky bastards on the north american continent! why is ivan hanging out with all of you, but not with us poor, poor europeans? you have to tell. everything. it's gonna be great, I am sure.
ireland made me actually feel better. it's a small difference, but it's important. I was there with two of my best friends and my favorite travel companions. it was a couple of days of declaring our love for one another. our closet case who was only out to me came out to the other one as well.
I realized things I didn't actually want to realize before over some pints of guinness, and that was painful. it was a stinging pain that almost made me cry instantly.
the first thought was regarding a person, and how stupid things turned out - but it feels ok knowing that this feeling might come up every couple of months or so and I'm fine with it.
It'd be more scary if I wasn't able to feel at all.
the second thing coming up was a bit stupid. for years now I have been joking about how I will surely become a therapist, or couples therapist, "when I'm a grown-up". guess what, I am growing up. I don't feel stable enough just YET but I had a moment when I realized that that was a calling, I HAD to be that. it's not only the thought that I could be one, if I wanted to, but that at some point in my life I will have to be a therapist of sorts.
I almost cried because this is scaring the shit out of me.
and then, again, dreams of sorts and communication that is going on my nerves. maybe I need advice. maybe I only want to talk about it so much because it fills empty spaces.
that girl from that country far away. I am happy she's far away. sometimes I miss her, because it was so casual. I didn't care. It was that night and now I realized she is interesting, like I am always interested in the casual girls after a couple of days. I am not in love and won't ever be but still she is annoying me. facebook destroys semi-anonymous one-night-stands in foreign countries, y'all.
anywho, she communicates like I communicated with my ex when I first met her. when I was the person who, under no circumstances, wanted to be in a relationship. she likes statuses. she answers messages, she talks, a lot, even when I first met her. but she talks about herself. she interacts a bit, reacts a bit, but never quite enough, even though she seems interested. it's a weird thing, and I shouldn't care but still I am the person who cares, and have always been.
and then her. the dreamwoman, as we call her now. I met her twice, briefly. the day after the second time I realized something was wrong. the night after that I was thinking about our wedding invitations. I haven't met her in 3-4 months now but dream about her OFTEN. and it's always the same kind of dreams. I am meant to be with her. someone else wants me but it's wrong. the last time I dreamt about her, I had another girlfriend who wanted to propose to me but i was ALL wrong. she was in the background and I knew I had to marry her and break my girlfriends heart. a few weeks ago, in portugal, I dreamt I had application sheets from women, and everyone was sort of my could-be-girlfriend. and I was reading the applications over and over again, they were all good, all the same but I couldn't make up my mind. then she came to me and asked "why are you double-checking everyone?" and I answered "because I already know who I have chosen".
I woke up at 5 am creeped out as hell because I had. already. chosen. her.
now what is that supposed to be? the love of my life? I have a creepy mind and a close relationship to my dreams, and that's important to me. but I don't want to lose myself in those dreams and I don't want to just project wishes and feelings on some person who is the victim of my made-up love.
so things are still a lot worse but feeling better. I am still confused. I have very little money left but want to go to paris. and see my friends in sweden. and then, and then, and then...
teaser 2: pool with a view
portugal.
a rory.
stories my ma tells.
it's my brother's birthday and my ma, my grandma and me are out on a walk.
so ma tells this story: when you were a little girl [and it was only me and you living together], every time you took a bath I would join you and sit on the floor next to you and we would phantasize about our dream home... what we would do if we'd win the lottery. and even at that age (5, 6) you wanted to have your very own library
I was a little Rory, I was.
and then I ask: what was it that you wanted? a round bed or a round bathtub? no, wait, isn't a round bed really, really bad in feng shui?
Ma: yes, they say when you get a round bed you're bringing a relationship killer in your home... but that I already am without a round bed!
it's my brother's birthday and my ma, my grandma and me are out on a walk.
so ma tells this story: when you were a little girl [and it was only me and you living together], every time you took a bath I would join you and sit on the floor next to you and we would phantasize about our dream home... what we would do if we'd win the lottery. and even at that age (5, 6) you wanted to have your very own library
I was a little Rory, I was.
and then I ask: what was it that you wanted? a round bed or a round bathtub? no, wait, isn't a round bed really, really bad in feng shui?
Ma: yes, they say when you get a round bed you're bringing a relationship killer in your home... but that I already am without a round bed!
this moment was relieving. ma was surprised about her own joke and laughed, I giggled and grandma had to stop walking, bended over and just laughed her snorting laugh I love so much. [I actually inherited it, when it's late and I'm really excited I laugh like this. snorting.]
teaser 1: the end of the world as we know it
portugal.
just dance.
apparently the most important thing is to always have a mission.
tonight we have one, and it's gonna be interesting. it doesn't involve lots of drinks, though. I'll visit my mom for dinner tomorrow and she is curious, too, how I am gonna look tomorrow night. because our plan doesn't involve any sleep either.
I will, however, report back. team mom & mom is all set up and ready to go, with out carefully packed bags (we checked the weather, it's gonna be warm tomorrow, still we're taking sweaters because we're gonna be so sleep deprived = cold, plus coke, water, mints, small snacks (blood sugar)).
another thing that is happening is, that I am growing up. it is september and today I bought my first pair of winter shoes. I will be able to afford at least another pair of boots because I took that extra job, so it's all fine by me.
I'm becoming girly and I am growing up and I spend a lot more money on my haircut than I used to. It's even shorter now and I like it.
#fuckyeahshorthairedfemmes
and things will work out, somehow. I told t. yesterday that I didn't feel whole enough to have a girlfriend right now and I am right. I am stressed out and have to deal with my family issues and on top of that I think I have iron deficiency.
maybe I am a little more like my ex than I'd like to be. I have a hard time letting other people take care of me, and it's easier not to have a partner at all than to learn to deal with certain things and just let myself fall - a thing I always criticized about n.
tonight we have one, and it's gonna be interesting. it doesn't involve lots of drinks, though. I'll visit my mom for dinner tomorrow and she is curious, too, how I am gonna look tomorrow night. because our plan doesn't involve any sleep either.
I will, however, report back. team mom & mom is all set up and ready to go, with out carefully packed bags (we checked the weather, it's gonna be warm tomorrow, still we're taking sweaters because we're gonna be so sleep deprived = cold, plus coke, water, mints, small snacks (blood sugar)).
another thing that is happening is, that I am growing up. it is september and today I bought my first pair of winter shoes. I will be able to afford at least another pair of boots because I took that extra job, so it's all fine by me.
I'm becoming girly and I am growing up and I spend a lot more money on my haircut than I used to. It's even shorter now and I like it.
#fuckyeahshorthairedfemmes
and things will work out, somehow. I told t. yesterday that I didn't feel whole enough to have a girlfriend right now and I am right. I am stressed out and have to deal with my family issues and on top of that I think I have iron deficiency.
maybe I am a little more like my ex than I'd like to be. I have a hard time letting other people take care of me, and it's easier not to have a partner at all than to learn to deal with certain things and just let myself fall - a thing I always criticized about n.
but that's that for tonight. coming up:
stories about portugal, one by one.
and the tale of our mission aka "the hh thing"
stories about portugal, one by one.
and the tale of our mission aka "the hh thing"
pilates I
there is something about pilates class that reminds me of being single. not only being single, but how I am single and will be and how it happened that I became single again. it's good, still, but I don't quite get it. it's not like yoga class where I come out, after one and a half hours, as a whole person [even if I cried a little], in sync with myself and the things surrounding me. maybe it's the reverse breathing, it's got to have something to do with that. the breathing in pilates is similar to the breathing in yoga, it's just always the other way around. in yoga, the movements of your body follow your breathing in perfect harmony, in pilates both seem to somehow always be fighting against each other.
anyway, I went home again today being reminded of being single, or a dark future cloud or a bad hairstyle at 45 or having no friends. then I told T. and she told me that sometimes she's afraid she won't meet her husband, and she's the only person I know who is really, really dying to have four kids. over lunch she asked me if I wanted to be her first child's godmother while simultaneously screaming "but you can't, you can't, cause you're a catholic". it took me minutes to calm her down and explain that I, actually, was baptised but a protestant and only raised catholic to some extent, and that, of course, I would be her child's godmother. I felt so honoured.
we decided that que sera, sera, whatever will be, will be, the future's not ours to see, got in her car, drove to the next burger king, ordered our country burger menues like two dumb, 10-year-old twins, drove to the beach, managed to get two beach chairs together because it was so, so windy and ate our burgers and fries with a touch, only a touch of sand while talking and looking at the sunset and the ships and loving each other, though I know - both of us often think about that person we will love, then.
this year has been good so far, but crazy good, and it has destroyed a lot. but it has a way of putting things back together again and so I am hoping that by the time I light those sparklers next it will have put me back together as well.
i need you so much closer
via autostraddle.tumblr.com
(en dag, tvâ bilder. text kommer.)
like yeah.
