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twistednuns · 4 years

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February 2020

I managed to use my iPad as a second monitor for my computer. So tech savvy. Yay me!

Joking about developing a sex-based cardio programme with Manu. Powerfucking! Might help against aggression as well.

A late night phone call with Tom. Not saying much.

Making a huge pot of my grandmother’s signature veggie stew.

More Bon Appétit test kitchen videos. Chris recreating tacos. Claire making Ben&Jerry’s. Priya making her mum’s Indian curries.

Writing a letter to Lena. Drawing upside down bats (which makes them look like they’re having a wicked dance-off). Just the act of writing. I thoroughly enjoy looking at my handwriting.

Using the Salted Coconut handscrub by Lush. Especially now that I wash my hands so often when we’re working with clay at school. I feel like the peeling triggers some pressure points on my palms.

That Saturday productivity high. Cooking and preparing heaps of stuff, cleaning the windows, doing laundry.

Painting my nails like an expressionist artist.

Some portrait studies. Accidentally drawing Sirius Black.

Being really motivated to improve my Spanish. Working with Lorena, the Duolingo app and even starting my own grammar/vocabulary book.

This ultra quirky ASMR video. Also: watching videos with Erin an her boyfriend Chris. It’s amazing how well they work together. How you can almost feel their connection, how similar they are.

Carrot cake oats.

Seeing the The Darkness live again, this time with Margit. Justin’s outfit and personality, singing along, especially to Time of my Life, the band’s traditional first song after the show.

Meeting Chris. Having a Bramblette cocktail at Pusser’s. I like that place. Feels very old-timey with a rowing boat right under the ceiling. We made out in front of a tiger slide in a toy store window on our way to the next bar.

Peeling fresh carrots.

Pickling onions and making kimchi. My fermentation game is strong these days!

Looking through Dominik’s sketchbook. I loved the tree whose bark resembled a mole burrow with its underground tunnel system.

The flu. Yes, really. Fewer pupils at school. Quiet times. I’m actually surprisingly healthy. I’d guess my probiotics must play a role here… Who knows.

More sourdough experiments. Writing about it (DELICACY - a haiku. Oven-warm sourdough / salted butter, alpine cheese / and a strawberry).

Finding a really interesting list of SanFran hippie era book recommendations at the end of Robin Sloan’s Ajax Penumbra: 1969. In the mood to read Maya Angelou, Tom Wolfe, Jack Kerouac, Richard Brautigan.

Even more beautiful books: I really enjoyed Die weiße Stadt by Karolina Ramqvist, a feminist author from Sweden, and the graphic novel version of To Kill a Mockingbird. But two books that literally (well, figuratively obviously) blew my mind were Circe by Madeline Miller (mythology, loneliness, animals and plants, magic and monsters, some desperate kind of feminism, independence and strength) and Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo (magical realms, university setting, psychological depth, unexpected twists and turns). I haven’t read anything comparable in a very long time and I desperately hope that there’s more to come from these authors.

A beach collecting all the world’s single socks in The Magicians. Oh and of course seeing them break the moon. What a sight. The show is super confusing, obnoxious and absolutely fabulous at the same time. Best example: the Freaky Friday szene in which Margo and Eliot switch bodies. I love how the actors took on each other’s speech patterns and behaviour.

A new addition to my colour vocabular: celadon (a greyish green; there is a type of ceramics you’ll only see in this colour which is not surprising since the shade provides such an interesting contrast to the the earthy, rusty orange of burnt clay.)

Manu telling me that he had rarely seen people with more joy in their eyes than me (“Ich habe schon Freude in deinen Augen gesehen! So ein Leuchten kann man nicht simulieren.”) after complaining about being bored and lifeless. / Making curry with or, well, for him the other night. Drinking Liqueur 43 with cinnamon and milk. Playing the Jackbox party games for which you can use your phone as a controller.

Finding myself in a well-known sitation from the past. Lying in Frank’s bed in the early morning hours, not that tired yet, when he starts talking about his life and his depression. In English, obviously, because that’s our emotional filter. Relating, since I feel quite similar. Coming up with a suggestion for a reciprocal support system. Let’s see what we can do for each other.

Looking at travel photographs. The sea, the cenotes. Longing to go back to Mexico or Australia. Diving. Taking it all in.

Dreaming of my grandmother talking about her biggest regrets in life. Weirdly she was in a little bundle under a coffee table, much like Voldemort in the last Harry Potter movie.

My weird, weird brain. How both pleasure and pain enhance my sense of smell and increase my brain activity, almost causing hallucinations and fixations on ideas. Like geometric shapes in gloomy off-colours and a beige silicon-like surface the other night. All I could think of was a benchscraper.

Blue eyeliner.

Brainstorming three-letter-words with Frank since I’m thinking of getting personalised Nike Blazers. Sad cat. Yes but. Dat ass. Why tho.

Flying squirrels. Watching them wobble through the air. How they look like cute exhibitionist when they’re extending their limbs and thus stretching their, well, let’s just call it wings.

The fact that red cabbage has an intricate pattern like brain convolutions when you cut it open.

Talking to Sonja for the first time in over two years. What a strange person. Interesting, too. At least in homeopathic doses.

Ripe strawberries and nectarines. Oh my god. I love fruit.

Meeting Eve at Pub Quiz. She identifies as female, loves swing dance, used to be an animator and I love her style. Also, I realised that really like Betty. And Dennis wasn’t mean to me for once. I love my nerd friends <3 And I learned that Starbucks was named after the first mate in Moby Dick! Also, coincidentally they asked a question about the city where To Kill a Mockingbird takes place (Maycombe, Alabama) after I had read it the week before.

Inviting Lorena to the Botanical Gardens. I always feel very happy and very much myself when I’m there. I sometimes wish I was a gardener. Lorena was late so I walked along the Spring Path outside and it might have been the first time I’ve seen a brussels sprouts plant. Inside I learned lots of Spanish words and marveled at the incredible butterflies. The huge yellow one right behind the entrance was my favourite. Its delicate feelers were fascinating.

Washing my hands at the Keg’s bathroom. Looking into the mirror. Suddenly thinking of the perfect karaoke song… Rescue Me by Bell Book and Candle! I kept singing it for days on repeat. My neighbour must hate me (nothing new here) especially since my voice is too low for the chorus.

It isn’t hard to see how such attachment patterns can undermine mental health. Both anxious and avoidant coping have been linked to a heightened risk of anxiety, depression, loneliness, eating and conduct disorders, alcohol dependence, substance abuse and hostility. The way to treat these problems, say attachment theorists, is in and through a new relationship. On this view, the good therapist becomes a temporary attachment figure, assuming the functions of a nurturing mother, repairing lost trust, restoring security, and instilling two of the key skills engendered by a normal childhood: the regulation of emotions and a healthy intimacy. // An interesting article on attachment styles and why theraphy works; it makes me want to learn more about attachment theory. This School of Life video is a nice addition as well.

That dream. About a book shop modeled after my picture of Penumbra’s 24-hour bookstore. There was an old man in a very narrow but high-ceilinged room full of books. There was no light source except for moonlight or some street lights. There were loads of stairs, very steep, leading to the back of the house. Upstairs the man would set out cat food and on the rooftop there was an old sailing boat. One day the man decided to open the door to the roof and let visitors see the ship, much like a museum; perhaps to attract customers. However, in the next night a cat-shaped ghost appeared who reminded me quite a lot of Kot Behemoth character in Mikhail Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita. The ghost was not amused about the old man’s decision and took away his key, a big golden one adorned with a red ribbon.

Toasted sesame makes pretty much every dish so much better.

Watching High Fidelity with gorgeous Zoe Kravitz (I adore her effortless style and her outfits), getting in the mood for making a playlist and listening to more music in general. There are all these great songs out there I forgot about.

Remembering the xkcd storm chaser comics.

Making a wicked good batch of Pho for Tom.

Spending a nice evening with Alex at Shamrock. Singing along to American Boy by Estelle. Confirming the hypothesis that the nerdy, quiet ones usually have a freak streak. That moment in the morning. Eye contact and kegel exercises.

Karaoke with Margit and Betty. Meeting Manu’s doppelganger. Same type, looks, voice. Eerie.

Making a BA Gourmet Makes meme for Steffen after he had passed his law examps. Strangely Gaby kinda looked like him after I was done with it.

Saturday morning in bed. Reading comics and graphic novels. Fresh bedclothes, surrounded by books. Since it was February 29 I thought about leap years and asked a few friends what their inner seven-year-old would have done that day (based on the thought experiment that your birthday was on February 29 and you’d age in 4-year-steps which would divide your age by 4 obviously).

I came up with: visiting grandma / eating Cini-Minis / falling asleep with my face buried in a cat / beating my neighbour Anna at Memory / drawing while listening to a Bibi Blocksberg cassette.

Alex said he’d have been outside all day, building a snow igloo. Not noticing his mum telling him to come to dinner. If the weather had been bad he would have played with his dinosaur collection. His inner 7-year-old was a hopeless dreamer who got agitated whenever his parents had a fight. Who came home late from school every day because he forgot about time when he was talking to his friend next to a hedge with thorns that looked like tiny airplanes.

Lena said she would have been outside all day long, playing in the mud with the neighbours’ kids. Of course.

#things i love #present perfect #personal #february 2020 #february #2020

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i-am-professional-fangirl-blog · 7 years

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Here’s a story I’m working on, tell me if you like it

I never wanted this to happen. So, I, CJ Jones, am sorry for any ruckus I may have caused that you might have noticed, which if you did, I don’t see how because I used my- . . . Let me tell you the story first before we get that technical. I don’t want you getting confused already.

I sure got confused they explained it to me, I’ll elaborate on they later.

Anyway, let me tell you a little bit about myself. My favorite color is black, in fact, I dyed the end of my short, blonde hair black. I’m 12 years old. I used to live in England, but now I live in Ocean View, Delaware. I’m obsessed with Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, Undertale, Gravity Falls, FNAF (Five Nights At Freddies), Voltron (the new one), as well as Creepy Pasta. And at the moment I’m typing my adventures for you, well, my first one.

It all started while I was heading to Florida for spring break. My dad and I (My mum had work, so . . .) were driving. I was wearing ripped, short jean shorts, a grey t-shirt that in black block letters said Future President, a blue jacket, pink fuzzy slippers, black Converse, in case we got out of the car, and my favorite black choker. My dad was listening to the talk radio, and I was on his old 2001 ipod, my 3DS, drawing, or on the ipad making privates on Music.ly. Oh, also I’m a geek, so probably reading a book, too.

I was listening to “Stereo Hearts” by Gym Class Heroes, when we stopped, I sensed it, looked up from my book, Wonder, lifted the side of my headphones, and looked at my dad,”Why did we stop?” He’s never stopped so abruptly before, even at a stop light, or stop sign, or whatever. Then I gasped, this wasn’t my dad. He had the same, gray buzz cut, he was also wearing the same clothes, a royal blue athletic shirt, grey flip-flops, and light blue shorts, he even still had the same gray-blue eyes that were identical to mine. But something about them were off, the pupils were like slits. Then it opened its mouth, and spoke, no, it didn’t even sound like speaking, more like a shower of sparks.I couldn’t understand it, neither would you if you listen do this thing, so I didn’t respond. It then seemed frustrated. I couldn’t move. It was like this, this thing had froze me. All of the sudden, it attacked me, clawing its way into my chest, tearing my shirt do pieces, ripping off my hair, I couldn’t breathe. It was almost like, along with my body, it stopped my lungs from working.

“You okay there, slick?” were my father’s first words to me.

“Yeah . . . I’m fine, just a . . . nightmare,” I answered, trying to keep my voice from shaking, C’mon CJ, PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER!, I thought,”So, when will we get there?” I asked.

“When we get there,” was my dad’s answer, it was his only answer, it has been for about his whole life, well, at least mine anyway.

“Well I’m hungry, so unless you want your poor daughter to starve to death, we better stop soon,” I stated, trying to get the image of my father, with those snake-like eyes out of my head.

“Uh, there’s a gift shop up ahead with a restaurant, would you like to go there?” he asked.

“Sure, can I get something at the giftshop?”

“Hmm,” he thought about it,”Fine, but only if you act well.”

“Deal,” I said, and went back to drawing a picture of Blueberry I was copying from my phone (for you NON-Undertale fans, that is UnderSwap Sans, an adorable version with a scarf, and boots, and the cutest, little, starry eyes, and- I should stop while I can).

***

“Lucky Lou’s, sounds . . .interesting,” I said when we arrived.

“Yup, ‘s been here since... 1803,” my dad said, squinting to read the tiny print, “Let’s go in.”

It was a . . .unique place, I guess you could say, With its boar heads on the wall. As well as fortune tellers and their glass orbs. The waiter sat us down at a table covered in fur, there was something off about him, his eyes seemed out of focus, sometimes going off in different directions, he reminded me of a chameleon. But his voice, it was like . . .it’s hard to describe.

I ordered the cheese steak, my dad ordered the same. When we finished, we went to the gift shop, I was surprised, it almost, almost looked. . . normal. The one thing that wasn’t, was the jewelry, scorpions in wax, dried cow tongues, you get the jist.

“You wanna go somewhere else?” my dad asked, I could tell he noticed the abnormal jewelry.

“No, it’s fine,”I said, but only because I noticed a bracelet. It was simple, not like my personality, but it showed my care for snazzy jewelry, almost none. I walked closer, got my phone out of my pocket, and searched, apparently, the stone was yellow turquoise jasper, I reached out to touch it.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” said a voice behind me, I jumped, turned around, but no one was there, the weird thing was, it was the voice of the waiter. I saw him in the restaurant, his eyes weren’t out of focus, weren’t off in different directions, they were staring straight at me.

Hope you liked it,

i-am-professional-fangirl

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