Mandatory Post-Christmas Blog

I miss my music. I seriously do.

Oh wait, I don't think I've mentioned it here that I deleted all my music like a fucking retard a couple months ago!

Well yeah. Getting it back has been a bitch. I'm getting there. I've nearly cried of despair, lost my nerve and pulled off chunks of hair out of sheer utter fucking anger, but it's all worked out... sort of ok. For the most part.

What I mean is, sometimes I really feel hopeless and alone, like there's no one to help me and I'm gonna end up drinking bleach or something. Then out of nowhere the world sends some little ray of happiness upon me and everything seems slightly better. <Insert notorious Lisa Hannigan song I was obsessed with not too long ago>

Yeah, life ain't that bad, if you have the right people around you. Somehow they make the crap a little easier to bear.

So Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.



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Now playing: The Sisterhood - Jihad
via FoxyTunes

Oh hey...

Merry Christmas to you, too. Kind of hypocritical of you to be sending me your best wishes now, but... I'm passive, and stupid, so the best I can do right now is read and wonder... and ponder. I would reply, see, but you consider me a threat to your already frail (understatement, anyone) mental health, and deemed extremely necessary to block me, put a shield around yourself and alienate me from your life, so I can't. I understand you, I'm dangerous and I can hurt you. Very wise of you to do that. I'm okay, if you care to ask. I don't care to ask how you are because, rumor has it you're doing wonderful. That's lovely...

Oh, hey... your bland, emotion-less, minimalistic Merry Christmas was as unconvincing as O.J. Simpson's 'not guilty' plea. It did shit for me and if you were trying to show off your good Christmas spirit and act like it's all forgiven and forgotten, well... I have nothing to be forgiven for, and I do not seek your forgiveness anyway. So, just cut the shit out and leave me alone. I don't like Christmas and I no longer like you; your best wishes and your phony innocence won't move me this time.

Try again after I have a lobotomy.

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Listening to: The Beatles - The Beatles' Seventh Christmas Record
via FoxyTunes

Close Encounters of the Christmas Kind

A few moments ago I was peacefully sleeping, dreaming of things I'd rather not say out loud, when I abruptly woke up to the sound of something crashing on the floor. My heart is still racing. I'm not the kind to get scared, because I honestly do not believe in ghosts or dwarfs or the tooth fairy, or whatever the hell people like to believe exists beyond the realm of us mortals. Fuck that, if ghosts actually existed, I would have seen one already. Although... that book "accidentally" falling to the floor from the shell where it peacefully lay, and had laid for months until now, made me kind of reconsider my stance on the whole ghosts thing.

Come to think about it, I guess that was life's little alarm clock waking me up to let me know... Yay!!! it's officially Christmas Eve!!! Well, way to fucking wake me up. I can't imagine a better way to open your eyes than to the feel of a heartattack raking your body. Way to fucking go, life.

Now, with the imminent coming of the holidays, and Santa being up in my grill and Christmas carols stalking me everywhere -even my iTunes, I guess the logical next step right now would be to express the giddiness and joy that Christmas evokes in this individual, aka me. Not this time. Other than the usual feeling of loneliness that overcomes me, especially in holidays like this, I don't really feel motivated enough to even wake up tomorrow. Yes, I am a deeply troubled person and I need therapy. One that does not involve spending outrageous amounts of money and the acquisition of heaps of highly unnecessary items of clothing. One that doesn't involve snobby sushi bars either. But, really, what is Christmas about?

Apparently, this is a Western holiday brought to us by our European colonizers, which is supposed to represent the birth of Jesus, one of the highest figures in most Western religions. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I gave up on religion long ago. And I really hate colonization and what those European bastards did to us and our beautiful lands and our culture. Excuse me, but turning us into a society devoid of a cultural heritage, which attempts to leave its cultural mark in the world with shitty movies made by big fat greedy corporate assholes, and cute handcrafts made by poor, underestimated natives, is not the way to bring enlightenment to the savage Americas. So, really, I have no reason whatsoever to celebrate Christmas. Yet I can't help feeling utterly fucking lonely and emotional. Because those people on the streets with their bags full of Christmas presents, and their tables all set with enough food for a whole month, and their apparent love for one another and best wishes and motherfucks... well, they're to blame. Christmas is infectious, it's like the flu. And who can escape it, when everywhere you turn there's a TV set sneezing the virus straight at you with all those crappy made-for-TV Christmas movies and cheesy cartoon shows. Now I'm overeating in the name of Christmas, I'm listening to overly stupid songs about red-nosed reindeers and little drummer boys, and I'm receiving presents, which are supposed to represent love and affection and gratitude. I don't believe in receiving presents. I'm awkward and I don't know what to do with myself eighty percent of the time when I'm in the presence of other humans. And don't get me wrong, it's not lack of gratitude of my part either. It's just a profound lack of words to express myself with... as if, out of the trillions of words I could use to say 'hey, thanks a lot, man,' I find myself thinking way too much, and they all escape me. This is not an exclusive Christmas thing. But yes, it's especially intensified during holidays involving presents. I hate this, because every time I'm faced upon situations such as this, I realize what a failure I am when it comes to interacting with people.

I don't even remember what the point of this long, useless rant was anymore, because that's just how fucking clueless I usually am about things, but... I think what I was trying to say is that, I have a conflictive, love-hate relationship with Christmas. I don't know what the point of it is really, as I have already given enough reasons why I should NOT celebrate it, and I still do, sort of, because everyone else does, and that makes me conventional and lackluster.

Yet... something about the nonsensical magic associated with the whole month of December, and all the goodness it represents, even in a fantastic, completely surreal kind of way, is enough for me to bring out the inner, not-so-secret-child within me and rejoice. Bottom line: I love Christmas, but hate what humans have turned it into.

So, as a way to remain sane until the month comes to an end, I hereby vow that I will NOT indulge in pointless Christmas shopping and binge-eating, and Carol-singing and Christmas-tree-staring. I have enough nonsense on my plate already, thank you very much.

OK, now... A special thanks to all my lovely friends, who have done the impossible to make me feel less miserable this week, which has sucked more than usual thanks to you people and your fucking 'it's Christmas, let's make everyone who's lonely feel like crap' togetherness. In all my holiday blues and my bitterness, I can still thank you guys, because I don't care how you celebrate the birth of Jesus or whatever, I still love you chunks. Thank youuuuuuuu, for the lovely present, and for making Christmas suck less today. Now every time I log onto my last.fm account, I will remember that there are still a few charming, thoughtful men out there. Thanks to today's sushi crew -I have sushi up in my brain right now, I can't even think straight. I had fun today. I don't know how I'll feel tomorrow, when everyone's sharing wonderful Kodak moments with their respective families and I'm lonely with my insane Poodle, but today was just nice.

I'm much calmer now. The book remains spread open (on page 347, from what I can see from over here) on my floor, and fuck me if I get out of my warm bed to pick it up. My bet is, the book is ridden with Christmas elves and tinkerbells and shit and if I do so much as get near it, it will infest me with its dumbass Christmas retardation and I'll be leaving cookies and milk for Santa and hanging a stocking on the fireplace.

Now would be the perfect time to admit that I am actually scared about that damn book falling. Also, I guess I must confess I had too many apple martinis tonight and my thoughts at the moment are anything but coherent.

A present, because despite being a total fucking bitch about Christmas, I'm still sort of nice.



MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS, DUDES!!!


By the way, I'm still waiting for your small holiday gift, Trent Reznor.


Listening to: Love Spirals Downwards - Will You Fade
Eating: Regurgitating sushi. Yuck.
Drinking: Coffee

All I Want for Christmas Is...

As I mentioned on a previous post, I was looking forward to today because I expected to fix my life with selflessness and love and children and the goddamned Christmas spirit, which about a month ago I would have thought impossible, and depending on the mood, even laughed at myself for having such juvenile thoughts. Well, I did fix it. Today was by far the best day of my whole year.

First off, I'd like express the truck load of glee filling my heart right now. Honestly, nothing can even compare to the enormous amounts of nice feelings I'm having as I type. It's the kind of thing that almost makes you believe that Israel and Palestine can make up and be BFFs. I never thought helping little kids have a merry little Christmas could so much as move me, much less potentially erase every last drop of misery off of me. But again, that's life's little sneaky way of showing me what a dumbass I am most of the time. A sincere thanks to everyone involved, from sponsors to that annoying dumb broad organizing the whole thing. Really, all y'all deserve to get all your debts paid. You're awesome, and since I'm the queen of awesome, everyone knows I'm most right.

Second, a special shout-out to my dear friend Rommy, for being such a wonderful partner, ally, baby-sitter... *cough cough* hitchhiker, and person. Thank you sooooo much for taking care of my kid while I was having my little shoe incident (that's what I get for wearing platforms, doh!). Dinner totally on me next week! Thanks to my ubiquitous midget, the best dwarf friend a grumpy bitch could ever wish for. Lisette, I love you lots and lots, and today I realized just how much I admire you. You know you're my role model, and you know we're gonna take over the world one Canadian province at a time! Also, Diana, you're the sweetest chick I know! And you're also the skinniest! Damn you!!!

I am so exceptionally tired today I can barely move, and I'm sure next morning I'll be as fucking stiff as a redwood. My feet are still throbbing from a whole day of walking around, running, wandering in search of water, etc. My hair looks like the steamiest pile of crap, and my skin is hopelessly screaming for help. I would much rather not look at myself right now, but unfortunately I have mirrors and I can still see with both eyes. I am honest to God not lying when I say I have never looked so crappy. But what today meant to so many people, what I helped, even in such a tiny, microscopic way, to accomplish, allows me to find beauty in every ache, every strand of stringy, greasy hair, every ring under my eyes. I do not, by any means, look beautiful, but I feel good, and that's enough. I'll put on some makeup tomorrow and everything will be back to normal ;)

Finally, I am going to post some pics that, with any luck, will convey all these warm, fuzzy feelings I just talked about.



Lisette and I regretting getting up so early... yesterday didn't help much ;)



Before the kids arrived.



Rommy and Lisette and an eighth of me.



On our way to get our kids.



With our lovely chicks.



Look, it's Rommy's little sister, Dora!!!



Hot model guy, aka Perfect Dude number 1687, and his kid. Gorgeous body, insanely pretty eyes, attitude, AND he's good with kids! Oh... maybe he's stupid, but who cares!!!



My nose looks big :/



Yours truly looking like a retard while these kids boarded a plane for their first flight EVER. (Seriously, that was a true Christmas miracle, the most beautiful idea they could ever have).



On the ASSpotlight... oops!



Inside the aircraft.



Some Avril Lavigne look-alike singing some emo/pop-punk, teenage bullshit. No hating, though. I'm feeling nice today.



Diana and I looking like we needed some water. And a break.


To wrap up this lovely day, each of the kids had to write a wish on a piece of paper, then tie it to a balloon, and once the clock hit the four PM mark, they would all release them, letting their wishes fly up to the sky and go straight to the Lord (people in South America are very religious, but you probably know that already). That was indeed a touching moment.



Helping our kids with their balloons...



Okay here we go: One, two...



Three.


... And so, the kids' wishes reached the hands of that who they believe in, and they smiled content at the thought of their dreams coming true.

I will be eternally grateful to those who made me a part of this, for giving this alien the chance to feel more at home than she ever has. And thank you, my cutest girl Genesis, for being such a quiet, friendly, un-childish kid. I know you will get presents this Christmas, and you will be very happy, as you wished.





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Listening to: Von Südenfed - Flooded
via FoxyTunes

:)

I've been feeling quite bloggy over these past few days, and since my last post, not too long ago, I've felt the weird urge to come back to this site and rant some more. Because that's how I avoid doing things that actually matter. Indeed, there's homosexual homework that needs to be done and won't do itself, there's tons of responsibilities I sadly can't wiggle my way out of, there's a hungry pup waiting outside my door demanding that I not let him die of starvation. Yet here I am, just because I like you people so much.

Today I'm feeling deep, though. No, I won't rant about Trent Reznor's super yummy arms, or his thunder thighs, or the fact that he's most likely creeped out by people making comments like these about him. No, I won't touch upon that issue today. Because today I'm feeling like... like real real deep, you know?

I'll just leave you with a video that says it better than 10000000000000000 words.


Yes, he's just delicious.


Alas! I got news to deliver! Good ones for a change! Yesterday I found my happy place, and I'm proud to say I didn't find it anywhere near a certain folk called Jose Cuervo. Yay!!! So let's celebrate that Cat is happy again, shall we?

Part of my involvement with my school -which I would ordinarily refer to as slavery, but since I found my happy place, I won't- requires me to proactively participate in all the major events that this rathole... er, institution organizes. It's supposed to include lots of perks, but unless I get an A+ in simul courtesy of my school thanking me for being involved, I don't believe in such quote, perks, unquote. But basically, I'm like school royalty, and given that royalty on this side of the pond actually have things to do, as opposed to in Spain or England, I have extracurriculars up my ass. You might wonder what this has to do with me finding my happy place, or with anything whatsoever. You might assume I'm being random as I am most of the time. You might actually not be too far off. The thing is, yesterday I found the true meaning of Christmas.

I was forced by my slave masters from school to attend a meeting on Saturday, but what I learned yesterday made me see the point of Christmas, that which I had missed since I became such a sarcastic little bitch. So, thanks to one of those Christmas miracles or whatever, I'll be helping nearly 400 underprivileged children have a merry little Christmas on the nineteenth. That's what I learned yesterday, in case you were wondering.

Now, everyone knows I'm the world's biggest Scrooge, and I do not believe in things like charity and community work; not because I think they're wrong, but because I find myself so unfit and awkward for them I would much rather stay out of them. And because I really really hate kids. Yet somehow, being able to spend an entire day making little kids happy didn't seem like such a deranged idea after all. It filled me with a warm, fuzzy feeling I hadn't had in years. It made me feel like I could be useful and give those kids at least one taste of happiness, or at least just put a smile on those bratty, snot-soaked faces for a minute. Awww, that was actually quite sweet. If I wasn't so goddamned emotional these days, I wouldn't know myself.

Yes, that's my happy place. I can't even tell you how excitedly I'm looking forward to that day. Everything seems just so pretty and nice and perfect, I would kill my puppy to be able to spend more than only a day there. Things aren't exactly peachy for me right now, but for some strange Christmas voodoo, santeria, whatever, I'm actually smiling. Yes, an actual smile. Fuck, my head hurts, but I'm smiling.

By the way, now that I remembered my shitty week, I want to take a minute to thank everyone who has showed me any kind of support through these rough couple of days. Thank you, I love you all and thank you. If Christmas miracles actually exist, and I'm starting to believe they do, you will all get everything you want this holiday, even if you've been bad all year. If Santa exists, and I'm sure he will like me after the nineteenth, I'll ask him to toss away the lump of coal he had saved for you guys, and give you whatever you want. Seriously, a big thanks and a kiss and hugs and much love.

I understand it's a shock, but yes, I'm actually very happy and calm and peaceful right now. Now, where is that chainsaw I wanted to hurt some people with???

(Anger has momentarily ceased due to the holiday season).

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Listening to: Siouxsie & the Banshees - Voodoo Dolly
Eating: A fucking disgusting pill for my fucking pain-in-the-ass headache.
Drinking: Water.