Xavier walked the streets of London. The fog that plagued the city had set giving the atmosphere, which allowed him to walk during the daylight hours in peace. He wasn’t in the safest part of the world, but with another World War raging, which place was? Unlike most of his kind, which was heading towards the war, Xavier was trying to get as far away as possible. Well, not too far away. The Americas were too quiet for his liking. So, after traveling the world for over a century he had finally returned home. Bombed, dirty, and radiating the aroma of fear and death- London had become home or at least temporarily.
Not all that far in front of him he spotted his prey- a young woman in uniform on her way to work. He’d been watching her for a day or two, preparing to strike when the opportunity presented itself. Unlike some of his other dinners, Xavier had taken careful preparation when getting ready to confront her. Today he finally would, but for now he was keeping his distance, merely enjoying watching her walk quickly, her hips seductively swaying with each step.
Xavier began taking a closer look at her, hoping to learn more. As if in a restaurant studying the menu he’d look at every element that made this woman. As per usual he started at the top: Blond hair, his favorite, neatly in a bun. This told him she was dedicated at work, wanting to make an impression and go far. She wore a military issued coat, which looked clean for this time of year suggesting she liked cleanliness. She was a true military woman, not one that had joined up just because of the war, but rather, one who wanted to be something outside of the kitchen. A black handbag hung from her shoulder, her hand rested on the bag, as if she were scared that someone would take it from her. She wore stockings to keep out the cold, and lastly high-heeled shoes. Unlike most women who joined the service, the woman ahead of him had declined to use the flat black lace-ups that the majority of the women wore. He decided she was therefore most likely trying to impress someone at work with her long legs.
Xavier was definitely impressed with her.
He put his hand in his pocket to retrieve the necklace that one of his minions had picked from her and speeding up he came to walk next to her.
“Excuse me, Madam, but I believe you dropped this.” He held it so the charm, a Saint Christopher’s medallion, dangled from his nimble fingers.
She looked at it and then, in shock and confusion replied. “Oh sir, thank you. I’ve been looking all over for it. It’s a family heirloom, you see.”
Xavier smiled, keeping the charm just out of her reach. “Allow me,” he said, with his enhanced speed coming to stand behind her. He lifted the necklace, over her head in order to fasten it behind her neck.
He smelled fear, and heard the sound of the glorious pounding of her heart, her blood flowing through her veins. He could feel the heat she radiated, warming his cold body. The blond beauty shivered as he clasped the piece of jewelry around her neck. Xavier smiled enjoying the reaction.
Toying with his food as his father used to call it. “Don’t toy with your food, Xavier! These are times of hardship, therefore, either eat what’s on your plate or I will!” In the end Xavier had been the one to drain him: His first meal as a newly created creature of the night.
The returning to the task at hand he said: “No more playing.” Pushing her head violently to the side he took a moment while his demon came forth to enjoy the many scents his victim was giving off and then he sunk his teeth into her smooth warm neck.
An explosion of taste took over, as her blood came streaming into his mouth. If wine was the beverage of choice for the Gods, surely the devil’s was blood. In it he could taste fear, pain, strength, hormones and so much more, and as the warmth overtook him due to his feeding, Xavier began feeling stronger. His hunger was dissipating with every drop.
His victim struggled but was now stilling. He almost felt sorry for the fact that soon her heart would stop and he would be robbed of tasting her fine robust blood again. Taking his last few gulps, he pulled her into a nearby alley. Taking her necklace as a trophy, he propped her up against a pile of rubbish and turned to leave.
His features had changed back into their original form, except for the red smears of blood round his mouth, which he wiped away with the clean handkerchief he’d brought with him.
Coming out of the alley he saw two men look at him curiously. He smiled, looked up at the cloudy sky and walked back into the fog.
END
Thursday, December 02, 2004
Faces Incarnated
It rained.
Days like these had been our favourite. I moved towards a chair and sat down looking out. The noise of the water hitting the window soothed me. It reminded me of the many nights when Alexei and I would just sit together and listen to nature’s symphony.
Closing my eyes I imagine a time when we would cuddle on the couch, Alexei’s arms around me, listening to the soft taps on the windowpane. Just letting the sound and our body heat consume us.
It rained for days.
Perhaps the weather was just reflecting my own emotions: sadness and loneliness. Just like a drop of rain I am alone, yet with others of my own kind simultaneously.
A hand reached for my shoulder and I turn to see my son looking at me. He looked so much like his father when I met him. His strict upbringing and my husband’s love of water had sent our son into the Navy and though he was trying to put on his officer’s façade I could see his pain. The worry lines on his forehead distorted his handsome face. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m going to take care of you.”
I smiled at his gesture, but we both knew that I would never accept. My years of freedom, both in and out of marriage had moulded me into the person I am, and binding myself to my son’s family permanently scared me: the thought that I might shrivel up within structure and conformity of family life. My own family, as a child, had been claustrophobic with my father’s iron fist and my mother’s submissiveness towards him was what caused me to leave in the first place.
I turned back to the rain and looked out.
45 years before, Gorky Park, Moscow
“Katherine, it’s raining.” My mother called me.
“Well, then we’ll get wet. It isn’t all that far to the metro.” I told her. I peered outside and saw that it really was raining hard.
“I’m not going to get my hair wet!” My mother informed me.
“Mum, I don’t have time for this; I need to go back to work. As it is I’m already late because Marie insisted on going on another ride.”
“So take a cab and go!” Mother’s patience for me had always been so short. Being the older of the two girls I had always gotten the bad end. The bad end of the belt, the argument, the choice in college. All in all I was just loved less. So it always surprised me when my parents came to visit, because it always seemed like they came because they felt like they needed to ruin my life, and though I was glad to see Marie, my parents could just as well have stayed at home.
“I can’t leave you here, how will you get home?” I countered.
“We’ll grab a cab.”
I gave up. “Fine. I’ll see you later. Bye Marie.”
“Bye Kat.” My little sister said before I ran out into the rain.
I was so relaxed by the cold wet water that hit me. By the time I had reached the min road I was soaked to the bone. I held my hand out to flag down a car, and in no time someone stopped. I got in. “Zdras vooyte,” I greeted him. “Slavianskaya, pazhalsta.” I gave him my destination and sat back.
“You speak Russian very well.” He said slowly in English. The amount of years I had studied Russian had given me the ability to speak like a native. It constantly surprised me when people picked up on my native language of English.
“Thank you.” I answered back. “Your English is very good too. Where did you learn?”
“I go to Los Angeles two year ago.”
I nodded and looked out the window.
My interest in Russia was founded in high school, with my first boyfriend’s family. They had moved from Russia to Boston the year before we met, and the time I spent with them had hooked me to the language and culture. It had all engulfed me and then to my parents’ disappointment I decided on journalism and Russian instead of Medicine or Law for college.
Perhaps I was just being rebellious subconsciously but it was more than that. So much more.
“What you do?” He asked.
“I’m a journalist. I write for the Moscow Times.”
“Ahh,” said in understanding.
I smiled. Then opening my bag looked for some money. I soon discovered I only had 150 roubles. “Sto pedisyiat, garashau?” <150,> I asked him.
He thought for a moment. “Da.”He answered. The ride would have at least cost me 200 roubles, and I secretly thanked God for having such a fortunate driver. We swerved through small streets heading for our destination until we hit the wrong corner. Roadblock.
The blocks were Putin’s latest attempts at catching skinheads, but contrary to what he said, they were ways of trapping foreigners and getting them to pay.
The two officers went to either side of the car. “Ostanivites!” the driver ordered me to stay and got out leaving the door open. “Ya magu vam pomoch?”His Russian was accented from the southern part of Russia, and it’s hypnotic tone made me listen carefully.
“Vi kovo vezjote?” One officer asked.
“Moju Schenu,”he lied.
“Pachemu ona sidit zadi?”
I listened carefully to both of them. Why would he help me so much? I wondered.
“Ona beremena”
Upon hearing that my eyes went wide open. I took my bag and shoved it under my shirt and sat back. I placed my hand on top to hide the wrinkles of the bag and watched as the other officer came to the back window and looked in.
I feared he might see through the story. What would they do to us? The police officers were known for being unsaintly. I knew my face was covered in fear, but he must have taken it for pain and looked up. “Ona roscheat?”He asked. His voice was much higher than his partners. Almost like a child’s.
“Da. Ja tolschen je-jo devesti do balmitsi.”
At that moment I started to scream.
“Oi, oi, oi!” The taxi driver said and opening the side door came to sit next to me. “It’s okay.” His words both for the benefit of the police and me.
I smiled and softly added in English. “Keep it up, you’re doing great. I’m Katherine.”
“Alexei.” He said with a smile and then got back out. “Mne nuschno idti.” he pleaded with them in his mother tong.
“Idti, idti!” The officer said and stepped back. Alexei got into the cab and sped off. When we’d cleared the blockage by a street we both broke down laughing.
“Spaseba!” I thanked him.
“Nichevo.” He answered gesturing that it was nothing. “You actress, Katja.” He smiled into the rear-view mirror.
“I had good help.” I said and waited for him to stop in front of the hotel in which the offices of the Moscow Times were situated. Then taking the money I handed it to him.
“Ni-et.” He said pushing it back. “You keep.”
“Oh, Alexei, I can’t do that.”
He smiled but kept his decision.
I smiled and looked at the money in my hand. Then on a moment’s impulse I reached for a pen from my bag and on the 100 roubles note wrote my name and phone number.
When he realised what I was doing he smiled, but took the money. For him I guess it was a win-win situation, or so he told me years later. Then grabbing my bag I said: “Call me.” And stepped out of the cab.
Present time, Los Angeles
“Babushka?” I turned from the window to look at my granddaughter.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Are you thinking about grandpa?”
“Yes I am.” I smiled and let her sit on my lap.
“What are you thinking about?”
“I’m remembering some of the fun we had.” I smiled at the child that looked so much like my younger sister when she was her age.
“Tell me one, please?” I looked into her pleading eyes: so much like Marie. “Well, I remember when Grandpa and I moved back to the States. Your dad was about two years old and he was running around causing havoc all over the place.” The child laughed at the thought of her father being naughty and looked up at me.
“Grandpa was sitting at the table and talking to Mr. McCutchin…”
38 Years Before, Los Angeles
“Jack, what kind of work is there out there for me? I was a sjegoolie driver for ten years.” I watched Alexei say to the elder man in front of him.
“Alex. You went to university, you’re a chemist and we’re in need of them right now. Let me talk to some people and see what’s coming up. I’ll be back in a couple of days.”
“Thank you,” Alexei said.
Jack smiled and looked at me. “It was really good to see you again Katherine. Thank you for the piece of cake. It was a great.”
“Goodbye, Jack. I hope we’ll see you soon.” I let him out and then turned to Alexei. “You’ll have a job soon.” I told him, Russian rolling off my tong.
Just then there was a crash. We both ran into the bathroom to see that my son had been trying to reach for something in the medicine cabinet and had brought everything down with him. He lay on the floor crying, after having hit his head.
“Oi, Nikolai,” my husband said and picking up his son. I began cleaning the mess that had been left behind.
Present day, Los Angeles
“What was he trying to reach, Babushka?” She asked looking at me.
“A toy frog,” I said.
The little girl burst out laughing. “A frog?”
“Yeah. Grandpa had brought him a plastic frog home for him, but he’d been bad and I’d put it up there.”
“What’s so funny?” Nikolai asked.
“Grandma was telling me about your toy frog, Daddy.” The child told her father.
Nikolai laughed. “I miss that frog.” He said mocking the toy briefly. “Best friend I ever had.”
Alexei would have said the exact same thing given the context, I thought. Being with my son was as if my Alexei hadn’t died a week ago. Perhaps I would go live with him. Being with Nikolai was like having my husband around. A younger more serious version than the carefree Russian I had loved for so many years, but none the less the resemblance was there. Plus, I would get to be with my granddaughter Marie, who mirrored the sister I had lost a few years ago.
Looking up at Nikolai I said, “Okay.”
He didn’t ask what I was talking about; he just nodded, leaned down and kissed my cheek.
Just like his father would have.
END
Days like these had been our favourite. I moved towards a chair and sat down looking out. The noise of the water hitting the window soothed me. It reminded me of the many nights when Alexei and I would just sit together and listen to nature’s symphony.
Closing my eyes I imagine a time when we would cuddle on the couch, Alexei’s arms around me, listening to the soft taps on the windowpane. Just letting the sound and our body heat consume us.
It rained for days.
Perhaps the weather was just reflecting my own emotions: sadness and loneliness. Just like a drop of rain I am alone, yet with others of my own kind simultaneously.
A hand reached for my shoulder and I turn to see my son looking at me. He looked so much like his father when I met him. His strict upbringing and my husband’s love of water had sent our son into the Navy and though he was trying to put on his officer’s façade I could see his pain. The worry lines on his forehead distorted his handsome face. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’m going to take care of you.”
I smiled at his gesture, but we both knew that I would never accept. My years of freedom, both in and out of marriage had moulded me into the person I am, and binding myself to my son’s family permanently scared me: the thought that I might shrivel up within structure and conformity of family life. My own family, as a child, had been claustrophobic with my father’s iron fist and my mother’s submissiveness towards him was what caused me to leave in the first place.
I turned back to the rain and looked out.
45 years before, Gorky Park, Moscow
“Katherine, it’s raining.” My mother called me.
“Well, then we’ll get wet. It isn’t all that far to the metro.” I told her. I peered outside and saw that it really was raining hard.
“I’m not going to get my hair wet!” My mother informed me.
“Mum, I don’t have time for this; I need to go back to work. As it is I’m already late because Marie insisted on going on another ride.”
“So take a cab and go!” Mother’s patience for me had always been so short. Being the older of the two girls I had always gotten the bad end. The bad end of the belt, the argument, the choice in college. All in all I was just loved less. So it always surprised me when my parents came to visit, because it always seemed like they came because they felt like they needed to ruin my life, and though I was glad to see Marie, my parents could just as well have stayed at home.
“I can’t leave you here, how will you get home?” I countered.
“We’ll grab a cab.”
I gave up. “Fine. I’ll see you later. Bye Marie.”
“Bye Kat.” My little sister said before I ran out into the rain.
I was so relaxed by the cold wet water that hit me. By the time I had reached the min road I was soaked to the bone. I held my hand out to flag down a car, and in no time someone stopped. I got in. “Zdras vooyte,”
“You speak Russian very well.” He said slowly in English. The amount of years I had studied Russian had given me the ability to speak like a native. It constantly surprised me when people picked up on my native language of English.
“Thank you.” I answered back. “Your English is very good too. Where did you learn?”
“I go to Los Angeles two year ago.”
I nodded and looked out the window.
My interest in Russia was founded in high school, with my first boyfriend’s family. They had moved from Russia to Boston the year before we met, and the time I spent with them had hooked me to the language and culture. It had all engulfed me and then to my parents’ disappointment I decided on journalism and Russian instead of Medicine or Law for college.
Perhaps I was just being rebellious subconsciously but it was more than that. So much more.
“What you do?” He asked.
“I’m a journalist. I write for the Moscow Times.”
“Ahh,” said in understanding.
I smiled. Then opening my bag looked for some money. I soon discovered I only had 150 roubles. “Sto pedisyiat, garashau?” <150,> I asked him.
He thought for a moment. “Da.”
The blocks were Putin’s latest attempts at catching skinheads, but contrary to what he said, they were ways of trapping foreigners and getting them to pay.
The two officers went to either side of the car. “Ostanivites!” the driver ordered me to stay and got out leaving the door open. “Ya magu vam pomoch?”
“Vi kovo vezjote?”
“Moju Schenu,”
“Pachemu ona sidit zadi?”
I listened carefully to both of them. Why would he help me so much? I wondered.
“Ona beremena”
Upon hearing that my eyes went wide open. I took my bag and shoved it under my shirt and sat back. I placed my hand on top to hide the wrinkles of the bag and watched as the other officer came to the back window and looked in.
I feared he might see through the story. What would they do to us? The police officers were known for being unsaintly. I knew my face was covered in fear, but he must have taken it for pain and looked up. “Ona roscheat?”
“Da. Ja tolschen je-jo devesti do balmitsi.”
At that moment I started to scream.
“Oi, oi, oi!” The taxi driver said and opening the side door came to sit next to me. “It’s okay.” His words both for the benefit of the police and me.
I smiled and softly added in English. “Keep it up, you’re doing great. I’m Katherine.”
“Alexei.” He said with a smile and then got back out. “Mne nuschno idti.” he pleaded with them in his mother tong.
“Idti, idti!” The officer said and stepped back. Alexei got into the cab and sped off. When we’d cleared the blockage by a street we both broke down laughing.
“Spaseba!” I thanked him.
“Nichevo.” He answered gesturing that it was nothing. “You actress, Katja.” He smiled into the rear-view mirror.
“I had good help.” I said and waited for him to stop in front of the hotel in which the offices of the Moscow Times were situated. Then taking the money I handed it to him.
“Ni-et.” He said pushing it back. “You keep.”
“Oh, Alexei, I can’t do that.”
He smiled but kept his decision.
I smiled and looked at the money in my hand. Then on a moment’s impulse I reached for a pen from my bag and on the 100 roubles note wrote my name and phone number.
When he realised what I was doing he smiled, but took the money. For him I guess it was a win-win situation, or so he told me years later. Then grabbing my bag I said: “Call me.” And stepped out of the cab.
Present time, Los Angeles
“Babushka?” I turned from the window to look at my granddaughter.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Are you thinking about grandpa?”
“Yes I am.” I smiled and let her sit on my lap.
“What are you thinking about?”
“I’m remembering some of the fun we had.” I smiled at the child that looked so much like my younger sister when she was her age.
“Tell me one, please?” I looked into her pleading eyes: so much like Marie. “Well, I remember when Grandpa and I moved back to the States. Your dad was about two years old and he was running around causing havoc all over the place.” The child laughed at the thought of her father being naughty and looked up at me.
“Grandpa was sitting at the table and talking to Mr. McCutchin…”
38 Years Before, Los Angeles
“Jack, what kind of work is there out there for me? I was a sjegoolie driver for ten years.” I watched Alexei say to the elder man in front of him.
“Alex. You went to university, you’re a chemist and we’re in need of them right now. Let me talk to some people and see what’s coming up. I’ll be back in a couple of days.”
“Thank you,” Alexei said.
Jack smiled and looked at me. “It was really good to see you again Katherine. Thank you for the piece of cake. It was a great.”
“Goodbye, Jack. I hope we’ll see you soon.” I let him out and then turned to Alexei. “You’ll have a job soon.” I told him, Russian rolling off my tong.
Just then there was a crash. We both ran into the bathroom to see that my son had been trying to reach for something in the medicine cabinet and had brought everything down with him. He lay on the floor crying, after having hit his head.
“Oi, Nikolai,” my husband said and picking up his son. I began cleaning the mess that had been left behind.
Present day, Los Angeles
“What was he trying to reach, Babushka?” She asked looking at me.
“A toy frog,” I said.
The little girl burst out laughing. “A frog?”
“Yeah. Grandpa had brought him a plastic frog home for him, but he’d been bad and I’d put it up there.”
“What’s so funny?” Nikolai asked.
“Grandma was telling me about your toy frog, Daddy.” The child told her father.
Nikolai laughed. “I miss that frog.” He said mocking the toy briefly. “Best friend I ever had.”
Alexei would have said the exact same thing given the context, I thought. Being with my son was as if my Alexei hadn’t died a week ago. Perhaps I would go live with him. Being with Nikolai was like having my husband around. A younger more serious version than the carefree Russian I had loved for so many years, but none the less the resemblance was there. Plus, I would get to be with my granddaughter Marie, who mirrored the sister I had lost a few years ago.
Looking up at Nikolai I said, “Okay.”
He didn’t ask what I was talking about; he just nodded, leaned down and kissed my cheek.
Just like his father would have.
END
Jane
Jane
My close friend
Annoying me
Hurting me
Hugging me
My dearest confidant
Listening
Understanding
Helping
I'm angry
But I'm not
I'm Jealous
But not really
I want to hate her
But I cant
My friend
My close friend
Annoying me
Hurting me
Hugging me
My dearest confidant
Listening
Understanding
Helping
I'm angry
But I'm not
I'm Jealous
But not really
I want to hate her
But I cant
My friend
Hey
Hi Everyone... This is my new blog... For all those who don't know me, My name is Maggi and I'm 20 years old... may 29th for all those who like to send birthday messeges ;) . I live In The Netherlands and am studing English here at university. I love to club, read, write, and just chill with friends. I'm obsesed with Buffy, Angel, X-files, Stargate, Stargate Atlantis, and Lost. You'll probably see many a rambling about Spike and Willow... Or here and there a fanfiction. Also I write original fiction. Occasionally you'll come across some of those too.
Well... on to the blog... hope you enjoy my life as much as I am!
Well... on to the blog... hope you enjoy my life as much as I am!
Wednesday, December 01, 2004
long time gone
Gosh... It feels like forever, but at the same time it feels like yesterday. I hit my two year mark a couple weeks ago. I still remember the first night I was alone by myself in the house. My parents had just left returning to Toronto, and it was just me. I partied! It was the greatest thing! All alone in Amsterdam, no one to tell me what to do, where to go, say, dress... etc.
Now two years later, and I can't say that i'm not happy. I might even be happier than I ever have been. Jan's coming to live with me in January, that'll be a change, and unlike most people I love living with my brother. Well, I hope I will in any case.
God.. My life is so different, and I wouldn't change a thing. Well, I could do with a boyfriend, but other than that, it's all good. University is fun, my friends are great, I love my study- what more could I ask for.
The goddess has truly blessed me.
Now two years later, and I can't say that i'm not happy. I might even be happier than I ever have been. Jan's coming to live with me in January, that'll be a change, and unlike most people I love living with my brother. Well, I hope I will in any case.
God.. My life is so different, and I wouldn't change a thing. Well, I could do with a boyfriend, but other than that, it's all good. University is fun, my friends are great, I love my study- what more could I ask for.
The goddess has truly blessed me.
Sunday, October 31, 2004
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Saturday, May 29, 2004
Birthday
Wow... I'm 20... It's kinda odd to think that I'm not a teenager anymore. Who would have thunk it? It's like a whole period of my life has ended and it's time to be serious or something. It's a weird feeling.
Plans for today:
1. Have coffee with Meg
2. Pick up Aleica from the bus station.
3. Go to see the Toronto BlueJays play against the Texas Rangers with Alecia, Jan B, Sasha, Katja, Anthony, and Oom Willem
4. Dinner with the family, the friends listed in 3, Naoko, Uncle Eddie, Aunty Mary, Vinitha, Daniel, and Dharrin
Seems a little simple, but I like it. I guess simple is good, and good things are simple.
Well, that's it for me for now.
ciao
Quote:
"It's a burden, it's a curse, and with great pwer comes great responsibility." -Jan's graduation Valdedictorian speech, taken from Spiderman
Plans for today:
1. Have coffee with Meg
2. Pick up Aleica from the bus station.
3. Go to see the Toronto BlueJays play against the Texas Rangers with Alecia, Jan B, Sasha, Katja, Anthony, and Oom Willem
4. Dinner with the family, the friends listed in 3, Naoko, Uncle Eddie, Aunty Mary, Vinitha, Daniel, and Dharrin
Seems a little simple, but I like it. I guess simple is good, and good things are simple.
Well, that's it for me for now.
ciao
Quote:
"It's a burden, it's a curse, and with great pwer comes great responsibility." -Jan's graduation Valdedictorian speech, taken from Spiderman
Monday, March 08, 2004
Friends
When you fall down you have no other option but to get back up.
You can't stay down and watch life go on around you as though you're not part of it all.
You can't hide and hope everything will go away because it won't.
It doesn't work that way.
The trick is to keep hold of the people that help you up, dust you off and get you on your way.
Those are the ones that matter.
Without those people what would life be?
Ash and bones and pain with no hope for the day ahead?
So hold on to them with everything you have, let no one take them away.
Love them, cherish them and take one day at a time.
-by Daisy... sound advice if you ask me
You can't stay down and watch life go on around you as though you're not part of it all.
You can't hide and hope everything will go away because it won't.
It doesn't work that way.
The trick is to keep hold of the people that help you up, dust you off and get you on your way.
Those are the ones that matter.
Without those people what would life be?
Ash and bones and pain with no hope for the day ahead?
So hold on to them with everything you have, let no one take them away.
Love them, cherish them and take one day at a time.
-by Daisy... sound advice if you ask me
Monday, February 16, 2004
M.
Since I've been in University a number of changes have occurred. Among changing majors to English lit, and going through a drastic diet... the way I view certain guys and how I act around them has changed as well. For one, I've become more outgoing for the most part. The exception to this is M.. He's your average joe... the boy next door... sweet... intellegnt.... cute (in a boyish sort of way)... and really understanding. He's so different to me. He grew up in a small town off to the North of Amsterdam and he's really uncultured for the most part.... When I say uncultured I don't mean he doesn't have good manners, because apart from not opening doors or pulling out chairs he's great... he just was never thaught about art or poetry, dance, etc. For a person such as me (my parents are literally walking encyclopedias on culture) it's different, refreshing. I love taking him to a museum and explaining forms of art to him, and giving him background information relating to the history beind it and such. For example... he doesn't understand Chris Rock doing stand up, but he's willing to learn so that he does. His thirst for knowledge is addictive, and as I help him with his cultural roundness, he helps me feel more Dutch.
The clencher though is that I'm head over heels for him, and he doesn't seem to be picking it up. I've dropped more hints than usual, and I've tried to get him to do something... but he hasn't. According to A. and L.... Old friends of mine... he's oblivious to almost everything, and he's perhaps not matured to that point. But to tell the truth, his innocence attracks me for the most part. He'd be so different without it. Any help out there would be quite welcome. I'm too shy to approach him directly, and being a girl and running around with only straight guys, I don't really feel comfortable telling them either.
So as you can see a little lost here. He's coming over today to make pancakes for dinner and then to play a boardgame... but sometimes I feel like I'm more of an appointment than something else.
Especially after J. ... J.'s at Notre Dame, and having the time of his life. He's got a girlfriend and I'm really happy for him, (Even if he was an asshole) but at times I can't help but feel jelous that he found someone new and I haven't. Though he might come here next year for a half year abroad. He wasn't my first love. But he definately holds a special place in me. M.'s so different than him, but I can see myself with him for a long period of time.
J'll always hold a close place to me, no matter what he did to me in the end, but like after P., it's time to move on.
The clencher though is that I'm head over heels for him, and he doesn't seem to be picking it up. I've dropped more hints than usual, and I've tried to get him to do something... but he hasn't. According to A. and L.... Old friends of mine... he's oblivious to almost everything, and he's perhaps not matured to that point. But to tell the truth, his innocence attracks me for the most part. He'd be so different without it. Any help out there would be quite welcome. I'm too shy to approach him directly, and being a girl and running around with only straight guys, I don't really feel comfortable telling them either.
So as you can see a little lost here. He's coming over today to make pancakes for dinner and then to play a boardgame... but sometimes I feel like I'm more of an appointment than something else.
Especially after J. ... J.'s at Notre Dame, and having the time of his life. He's got a girlfriend and I'm really happy for him, (Even if he was an asshole) but at times I can't help but feel jelous that he found someone new and I haven't. Though he might come here next year for a half year abroad. He wasn't my first love. But he definately holds a special place in me. M.'s so different than him, but I can see myself with him for a long period of time.
J'll always hold a close place to me, no matter what he did to me in the end, but like after P., it's time to move on.
Friday, April 11, 2003
J.
Hey all, I promised to let you know about J.. I've been with him for just over two months. Well, two and a half- almost three. You wanted me to tell you a little about him, so I am. J.'s a Canadian, that actually lives next door. I don't know if I told you about the idiot I dated just before december, but suffice to say I got rid of him and started dating his bestfiend. J. is really an amazing guy. He's in my school (failed IB history and IB chemisry) so he's redoing it. His best subject is Biology, so I help him with his history, and he helps me with my bio... well, for a while, until we get bored. ;)
He's also my best friend and my driver and my movie bud, and my positive reinforcement, and my jogging coach/partner. Like I said he's amazing. I fell for him really hard, and next year is gonna be really difficult. He wants to come and live with me in Amsterdam, but I'm not too sure. I'd love to have him, but at the same time I'm scared to. My parent's don't know we're going out. They just think we're study buds and really good friends. They know that I get along with guys more than girls (usually). If they were to find out about J., they'd also realise that their little girl isn't so innocent anymore, and I just couldn't do that to them.
Ironic if you really think about it. My parents think I'm gay. LOL. Well, atleast I think that they do. It's a little odd. Here I'm dating the guy of my dreams and my mom thinks I'm lusting over women. I sure laughed when I thought about that. Isn't life ironic. I thought about telling her about J. for that reason, but I don't know what she would be angry about more... a lesbian, or a non-virinal daughter. So, I decided to just let her be. Eventually she'll find out that I'm not gay and everything will go back to normal.
I'd e-mail you all a picture, but I have as yet to find a scanner. J.'s not the best looking guy, but he's lookable. I love his eyes. SO BLUE and mixed with his dark brown/black hair- irresistable to me. I could just admire him for hours. LOL
What else can I tell you about him? There's not much to say. He's very sports oriented. He's a baseballer and a total Blue Jays fan. He's gotten me hooked on the sport too, and I just love watching him play. I keep the score card while I watch. Don't get along with any of the other girlfriends. They're too airheaded for me. They come to be SEEN, not to watch. It's sad. The other guys on the team and I have such a great time. We go out and have so much fun. I can't drink here cause I'm under-age, but that doesn't stop them from buying it for me when we celebrate a win.
Next week there's actually Girlfrind Day. LOL. The guys are teaching us in the morning how to play baseball... I can't hit a ball for shit! And then they're taking us to see the Jays play. I can't wait! It's gonna be sooo much fun!
Well, It's 1am at the moment, and though I don't have school tomorrow I have to be in my chiropractor's office at 11:30am, and then J. and I are gonna go out to see Bend it Like Beckham. I've already seen it, but I want to show it to J.. He so needs to see what my family in Malaysia is like incase he comes with me this summer. Lol, will my grandma get a kick out of him. ;)
well, that's it from over here. If you have more questions ask and I'll post another entry.
Miss you all!
He's also my best friend and my driver and my movie bud, and my positive reinforcement, and my jogging coach/partner. Like I said he's amazing. I fell for him really hard, and next year is gonna be really difficult. He wants to come and live with me in Amsterdam, but I'm not too sure. I'd love to have him, but at the same time I'm scared to. My parent's don't know we're going out. They just think we're study buds and really good friends. They know that I get along with guys more than girls (usually). If they were to find out about J., they'd also realise that their little girl isn't so innocent anymore, and I just couldn't do that to them.
Ironic if you really think about it. My parents think I'm gay. LOL. Well, atleast I think that they do. It's a little odd. Here I'm dating the guy of my dreams and my mom thinks I'm lusting over women. I sure laughed when I thought about that. Isn't life ironic. I thought about telling her about J. for that reason, but I don't know what she would be angry about more... a lesbian, or a non-virinal daughter. So, I decided to just let her be. Eventually she'll find out that I'm not gay and everything will go back to normal.
I'd e-mail you all a picture, but I have as yet to find a scanner. J.'s not the best looking guy, but he's lookable. I love his eyes. SO BLUE and mixed with his dark brown/black hair- irresistable to me. I could just admire him for hours. LOL
What else can I tell you about him? There's not much to say. He's very sports oriented. He's a baseballer and a total Blue Jays fan. He's gotten me hooked on the sport too, and I just love watching him play. I keep the score card while I watch. Don't get along with any of the other girlfriends. They're too airheaded for me. They come to be SEEN, not to watch. It's sad. The other guys on the team and I have such a great time. We go out and have so much fun. I can't drink here cause I'm under-age, but that doesn't stop them from buying it for me when we celebrate a win.
Next week there's actually Girlfrind Day. LOL. The guys are teaching us in the morning how to play baseball... I can't hit a ball for shit! And then they're taking us to see the Jays play. I can't wait! It's gonna be sooo much fun!
Well, It's 1am at the moment, and though I don't have school tomorrow I have to be in my chiropractor's office at 11:30am, and then J. and I are gonna go out to see Bend it Like Beckham. I've already seen it, but I want to show it to J.. He so needs to see what my family in Malaysia is like incase he comes with me this summer. Lol, will my grandma get a kick out of him. ;)
well, that's it from over here. If you have more questions ask and I'll post another entry.
Miss you all!
Wednesday, February 26, 2003
life, love, and time
If time would be counted in how many times you enjoy your life, life would be very short. Learning to laugh and smile and breathe in the air around you is a true miracle of this world. Noticing how the leaves on a tree sway with the gentle humming of the breeze. How a lake in all its purity and wonder calls out and dances with the falling rays of the sun. How the fallen particles of dirt run down the worn paths that cover the outskirts of lake.
It you stand long enough in such a silent spot and really listen to the voices of nature you'll find their humming to be mesmerizing and hypnotic. Like you can't get enough, like you're drowning in it's dying sorrow. Softly and tender it tells of times past and long gone by, times of joy and times of affliction, times when minutes stood still as the heart found its way.
In those soft soporific seconds when the clouds vanish from your thoughts and for once in your life you see your path ahead, in those times of complete illumination is when you see your destiny. The destiny that has been prewriten in the sand of times, that calls you by name and knows all about you down to the smallest and darkest secret. To that call in which we answer we shall no longer question or doubt, we shall not be weary or canny. We shall embrace it and hold to our soul that which is real and can be understood, that which says no lies and tells only truth.
That is what we call our soulmate.
The other part of our immortal being that wanders the earth like you, lost and alone, scared and unsure. Looking at every corner for the slightest chance of discovery of self and truth.
To have such a dialogue is to receive the greatest gift possibly given to man. A moment of true and perfect happiness, a moment when there is an internal peace inside of you. Tranquil as the leaves that sway on the tree with the wind, like the lake calls out and dances with the falling rays of the sun, like the fallen particles of dirt than run down worn paths, like that the soul will sing. In unity and perfect harmony, stretching to meet its mate, its lost comrade, its other half.
That moment is called love. Love that sings one verse and rhymes one tune.
There are times in the lapse of time when souls are separated and lost, lost in the warps of time and space, lost by hundreds of human years. In such times the entities must seek alternative measures, measures that guide a fallen soul to its rightful partner.
excerpt from All that Heaven Allows by Isabelle
It you stand long enough in such a silent spot and really listen to the voices of nature you'll find their humming to be mesmerizing and hypnotic. Like you can't get enough, like you're drowning in it's dying sorrow. Softly and tender it tells of times past and long gone by, times of joy and times of affliction, times when minutes stood still as the heart found its way.
In those soft soporific seconds when the clouds vanish from your thoughts and for once in your life you see your path ahead, in those times of complete illumination is when you see your destiny. The destiny that has been prewriten in the sand of times, that calls you by name and knows all about you down to the smallest and darkest secret. To that call in which we answer we shall no longer question or doubt, we shall not be weary or canny. We shall embrace it and hold to our soul that which is real and can be understood, that which says no lies and tells only truth.
That is what we call our soulmate.
The other part of our immortal being that wanders the earth like you, lost and alone, scared and unsure. Looking at every corner for the slightest chance of discovery of self and truth.
To have such a dialogue is to receive the greatest gift possibly given to man. A moment of true and perfect happiness, a moment when there is an internal peace inside of you. Tranquil as the leaves that sway on the tree with the wind, like the lake calls out and dances with the falling rays of the sun, like the fallen particles of dirt than run down worn paths, like that the soul will sing. In unity and perfect harmony, stretching to meet its mate, its lost comrade, its other half.
That moment is called love. Love that sings one verse and rhymes one tune.
There are times in the lapse of time when souls are separated and lost, lost in the warps of time and space, lost by hundreds of human years. In such times the entities must seek alternative measures, measures that guide a fallen soul to its rightful partner.
excerpt from All that Heaven Allows by Isabelle
Friday, January 17, 2003
x-files vs. Buffy The Vampire Slayer
I've been shocking people for weeks now. I can now say that I am no longer addicted to the x-files! Yeah, I know... WOW! It's amazing.
Yes I still collect, but it doesn't run my life as it once did. I've seen every episode...I think.... I own almost all of them anyway. LOL. Now that the show is over I need something else... different, so S., one of my friends here has introduced me to Buffy the vampire slayer. Now, I know what some people think... OMG, how could she ever like something so... YUK! But, actually, buffy has so much more than the x-files ever had, and it's sooooooooo funny. At the moment the episdoes are so good that I sit at the edge of my chair and I get so surprised and taken up by it.
I guess I'm addicted to something again.
You know you're addicted, when you read and write fanfiction, and watch it on tv every time it's on, and you write small commentareies on the characters... LOL
Actually, my next episode is going to contain a commentary about buffy the vampire slayer. I know. You don't have to read it, but it kinda just occured to me the other day. LOL. WHile I was in Biology none the less.
If you've never seen Buffy you'll probably understand little of my rantings, but if you want an explanation just let me know and I'll type something up. LOL
Well, that's it for now... now on the commentary...
Yes I still collect, but it doesn't run my life as it once did. I've seen every episode...I think.... I own almost all of them anyway. LOL. Now that the show is over I need something else... different, so S., one of my friends here has introduced me to Buffy the vampire slayer. Now, I know what some people think... OMG, how could she ever like something so... YUK! But, actually, buffy has so much more than the x-files ever had, and it's sooooooooo funny. At the moment the episdoes are so good that I sit at the edge of my chair and I get so surprised and taken up by it.
I guess I'm addicted to something again.
You know you're addicted, when you read and write fanfiction, and watch it on tv every time it's on, and you write small commentareies on the characters... LOL
Actually, my next episode is going to contain a commentary about buffy the vampire slayer. I know. You don't have to read it, but it kinda just occured to me the other day. LOL. WHile I was in Biology none the less.
If you've never seen Buffy you'll probably understand little of my rantings, but if you want an explanation just let me know and I'll type something up. LOL
Well, that's it for now... now on the commentary...
Tuesday, January 07, 2003
Getting Hooked
S.'s gotten me hooked on Buffy The Vampire Slayer. The first few seasons were bad, I was actually one of those people who watched the first season when it came out and couldn't stand Angel and Cordy, so I stopped watching. Now I've been watcing it again. It's sooooo much better now, and it has been for a while. It playing catch-up now!
And what I've been liking the most is the Spike/Buffy romance. So, you can imagine what I felt like when Buffy said that it was over because it was killing her... Killing her my ass! She's just scared about the relationship and what others think, for no freaking reason.
She thinks she's too goos for him because she's human and the slayer, but as a female, and a human, I can honestly say that it's the opposite. He's too good for her! and she needs to get her head out of her ass and see that!
Here is a man- A MAN, so what if he's a vampire, he's got male physiology and the same thoughts and emotions. Hell, besides that his heart NO LONGER beats, he is just as foolish as any man in love. Spike is so much like William (His soul) in that way. Besides for the fact that Spike is more reassured and cocky (Probably became that way because of Dru [his sire and mate], atleast she did something right) he's the same as William carring his heart on his sleave.
She doesn't even realise all that he's given up for her. So what if he changed due to the chip in his head, but do they really think that a small piece of technology would change him personality-wize? It's about as changeing as Kartman's swearing chip (southpark movie). The chip inhibits his ablility to feed on humans, hurt them. Yes, he bacame softer. Hell, if your life was built on violence and that was taken away from you you'd be a sass too.
However, no one (except Dawn) cares to look at how he's changed. After the Initiative (a military section that works against evil things) he began helping them: Patroling, research, babysitting even! When Buffy died he was there for Dawn, protecting her and being there for her as much as he could. When Willoe got mixed up in Magiks (Black Magic) and took Dawn with her to see Rack (her supplier) Spike was up and helping Buffy.
However, lets turn it around. Just as soon as Spike needs to be given more credit, he's got a lot to learn too. First of all, the tying Buffy up and saying that he'll let Dru feed on he if she didn't tell him that she loved him- Wrong approach! Maybe he's been undead too long to realise that that's not going to get his love to requite his feelings.
Also, when he realised that the chip didn't go off when he hit Buffy... He beat her up?! What's he thinking? Standing there and telling her that she came back wrong is not the best thing for an insecure little girl. She is afterall a girl compared to him. Buffy's what, 20 years old? Spike's 150 or more..... She should be a child compared to him. Perhaps that's why she can't commit. Spike was with Dru for over a century, commiting himself and breaking down when he found her with the caos demon.
Emptionally he's just prepared for the long haul, whereas she isn't. She loves him though. He needs to be patient, and not to give up.
Buffy needs to learn that people can change. Spike needs to be gentle and wait. He's scared of that though. Noth that he's not willing, but as a Slayer of Slayers, he knows that they are disposable, living only a couple years. He just wants as much time with her as possible, which in my mind is not only understandable, but perhaps the most romantic part of their relationship.
And what I've been liking the most is the Spike/Buffy romance. So, you can imagine what I felt like when Buffy said that it was over because it was killing her... Killing her my ass! She's just scared about the relationship and what others think, for no freaking reason.
She thinks she's too goos for him because she's human and the slayer, but as a female, and a human, I can honestly say that it's the opposite. He's too good for her! and she needs to get her head out of her ass and see that!
Here is a man- A MAN, so what if he's a vampire, he's got male physiology and the same thoughts and emotions. Hell, besides that his heart NO LONGER beats, he is just as foolish as any man in love. Spike is so much like William (His soul) in that way. Besides for the fact that Spike is more reassured and cocky (Probably became that way because of Dru [his sire and mate], atleast she did something right) he's the same as William carring his heart on his sleave.
She doesn't even realise all that he's given up for her. So what if he changed due to the chip in his head, but do they really think that a small piece of technology would change him personality-wize? It's about as changeing as Kartman's swearing chip (southpark movie). The chip inhibits his ablility to feed on humans, hurt them. Yes, he bacame softer. Hell, if your life was built on violence and that was taken away from you you'd be a sass too.
However, no one (except Dawn) cares to look at how he's changed. After the Initiative (a military section that works against evil things) he began helping them: Patroling, research, babysitting even! When Buffy died he was there for Dawn, protecting her and being there for her as much as he could. When Willoe got mixed up in Magiks (Black Magic) and took Dawn with her to see Rack (her supplier) Spike was up and helping Buffy.
However, lets turn it around. Just as soon as Spike needs to be given more credit, he's got a lot to learn too. First of all, the tying Buffy up and saying that he'll let Dru feed on he if she didn't tell him that she loved him- Wrong approach! Maybe he's been undead too long to realise that that's not going to get his love to requite his feelings.
Also, when he realised that the chip didn't go off when he hit Buffy... He beat her up?! What's he thinking? Standing there and telling her that she came back wrong is not the best thing for an insecure little girl. She is afterall a girl compared to him. Buffy's what, 20 years old? Spike's 150 or more..... She should be a child compared to him. Perhaps that's why she can't commit. Spike was with Dru for over a century, commiting himself and breaking down when he found her with the caos demon.
Emptionally he's just prepared for the long haul, whereas she isn't. She loves him though. He needs to be patient, and not to give up.
Buffy needs to learn that people can change. Spike needs to be gentle and wait. He's scared of that though. Noth that he's not willing, but as a Slayer of Slayers, he knows that they are disposable, living only a couple years. He just wants as much time with her as possible, which in my mind is not only understandable, but perhaps the most romantic part of their relationship.
Saturday, January 04, 2003
White
I'm dreaming of a white christmas... just like the ones I used to know... where the tree tops glisten and children listen... to hear sleighbells in the snow....
Well, It was a white christmas, and a white new year, and it's still white, and as beautiful as ever. I there's about ten maybe 15 centimeters of snow, and when I look out the window I think... wow! It's beautiful!
Danielle, a friend from Chicago is coming to visit next week friday for 4 days. Then Eric Belmont will be here for days the begining of febuary! I haven't seen him since... 10th grade when he came to visit. Eric, Jan B. and I were best friends in 9th grade at AAS. It feels like yesterday when the two of us were sitting around worring about Jan and what he'd been doing to himself.
He's in for a surprise when he sees that Jan has changed. LOL! I can't wait to see his reaction!
I wonder what Mom will think of him. It's been a while and she doesn't remember what he looks like. Hell, I barely remember what he looked like in tenth grade, much less imagine what he's like now!
lol... life's good for now!
ttyl
Well, It was a white christmas, and a white new year, and it's still white, and as beautiful as ever. I there's about ten maybe 15 centimeters of snow, and when I look out the window I think... wow! It's beautiful!
Danielle, a friend from Chicago is coming to visit next week friday for 4 days. Then Eric Belmont will be here for days the begining of febuary! I haven't seen him since... 10th grade when he came to visit. Eric, Jan B. and I were best friends in 9th grade at AAS. It feels like yesterday when the two of us were sitting around worring about Jan and what he'd been doing to himself.
He's in for a surprise when he sees that Jan has changed. LOL! I can't wait to see his reaction!
I wonder what Mom will think of him. It's been a while and she doesn't remember what he looks like. Hell, I barely remember what he looked like in tenth grade, much less imagine what he's like now!
lol... life's good for now!
ttyl
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)