The Land of Squee

So by the way, the things I was talking about a couple weeks ago:

I'm not going to make a dating site profile open to guys and girls. I'm not going to open that profile back up at all. I don't need a relationship, I just need (my) friends. Am I straight? Maybe, maybe not.

I don't think I'm meant to be in a relationship. Maybe it'd be different with a different guy, but dating stuff has always seemed cheesy to me, I bristle whenever I feel like someone's treating me like we're not equals (a marriage proposal, for instance, as something a guy gets to contemplate for ages and ages but a girl is expected to say yes to in a matter of moments), and the idea of walking down an aisle in a fancy white dress embarrasses me. Not in a cute "Aww, you guys!" way, but actually in a being-forced-to-sing-karaoke-in-front-of-strangers way. I would feel like the wedding/engagement ring was trying to mark me as someone's property, sharing a home with someone would feel like a dead-end, and let's not even think about what a pregnancy would do to the way my mind works. I wouldn't want people to be confused if I didn't change my last name, or to have a joint bank account and not know who had earned the money I was spending, or to HAVE to share a bed for the rest of my life. None of that appeals to me.

I think a lot of this came from growing up assuming no one would ever find me attractive, but it isn't like that anymore. Now I feel like giving up my happy bubble to share it with a man would be a HUGE infringement on my... well, myself. My independence.

What I *can* see is me and my bff roomie lying on our stomachs watching crappy TLC programs together, sharing clothes, dying our hair together, doing coordinated Halloween costumes*, and then going to our separate rooms to sleep. I can see us going on silly adventures, cooking for each other, and ordering pizzas and crazy hours of the night. I have a background in this: this is what life was in the dorms, and this is what my summer with Kelley was (minus all the hours I spent lying facedown on the carpet crying over MOR and Maktav). This is the sort of relationship I'm familiar, comfortable, and perfectly happy with.

So yeah, add all this to my list of reasons why I'm going back to the States. Why break in new bff roomies when I already had so many?


*oh, and I've decided that my recent obsession with cosplaying comes from a person who is OBSESSED with Halloween not being able to make and put on a costume for going-on-three years.

Remember the guy who told me to lose weight?

Well, he sent me a lot of apologies and that time I was drunk I told him to calm down and go to sleep.  That resulted in him messaging me a hundred and seven more times about how sorry he was some more.  When I didn't answer, he tried telling me he had a friend who was going to be in Paris and had seen my profile and had a HUGE crush on me and was desperate to meet me, and I was like

Hey, just wanted to let you know that I met a guy from the site yesterday and we got along really well, so I'm not answering messages for a while so we can see where it goes.

and he was like

great, happy for you, but we can continue talking ! i wasnt necessarily talking to u just for flirting, as u would appreciate..
bonne nuit

and, a day later, when I hadn't answered that, he said

grr

Now, something like TWO WEEKS later, I get this:

how are you, is everything allright with you ?
and why don't u think of writing me without me writing to you ?

I... there are so many ways I could answer this.

PS I have a date tomorrow with Samuel, the cute one with the nice smile who seems to actually get stuff done.

Jobwise I am kicking ass and taking names.  Well, one name specifically: Nilou the Nightmare Child.  Since the family tore me apart last week I have put my damn self back together with a full burst of Place je passe glory.  I am juggling and going the extra mile and trying to battle my tendency to "do it in a minute" which results in piles of laundry in my room and chores slipping my mind.  It's already super effective: just now when I changed into my pyjamas I hung my dress up and put my tights away in a drawer and folded my sweater and put it back on the shelf.  Two weeks ago you can bet your ass all that would have been shoved into a pile on the edge of the bed.  And it wasn't even an effort: I'm typing this out because when I sat down just now and noticed I had put my pyjamas on (um, yikes) I was like shit what did I do with the dress and then I remembered putting it on the hanger without a second thought.  If after an entire life of letting things pile and pile I can finally learn to get shit done promptly, I bet I can do anything with my future.

Secondly, Nilou the Nightmare Child loves me more every time I make an entry about him.  I look back with a sympathetic smile on the early days when he refused to put on his jacket and pitched a fit in the halls of the school or screamed and clawed at me when I tried to get him into the bath.  Yesterday morning he refused to eat breakfast because I wasn't at the table yet and refused to get dressed until I came upstairs to help him pick out his socks.  Today I was able to put him down for a nap with no fighting, just a lot of playing when he should have been resting, and when he woke up instead of crying and calling for maman he called for me and then asked when maman would be home.  When I said soon he asked if I could come play marbles with him.  Today at lunch Mimi asked who he thought was nicer, me or Shantelle, and when the mother's and my protests of "Oh no, no Mimi, you don't ask a question like that, that's so rude" died down, Nilou very seriously muttered "Ehreen."  I know the parents will write it off as Oh well, he's older this year, Oh well, Ehreen spends more time with him, but screw that.  I am better with the kids than she is.  I'm not better with responsibility, but I'm better at bonding with them and relating to them so HMPH.  And I also think I'm better than the parents at setting down rules and making them follow through with things, but hey.

And speaking of the parents, this evening when the mom came in and saw that, as with every day this week, I had done all the chores necessary and dinner was on the stove and the kids were already in their pyjamas, she literally danced around the kitchen saying "parfait" and I'm happy and clapping her hands and smiling at me.  HA.  HA HA.  YEAH I'LL SHOW YOU TO DOUBT ME... SELF.  I'LL SHOW YOU ALL.  I CAN *DO* SHIT AND I WILL *NOT* BE DEFEATED AFTER COMING ALL THIS WAY.

Socially, I'm faltering.  I've made a few tentative steps toward making a few tentative steps toward making friends, but it's intimidating and gross to have to deal with it alone.  If I could find some kind of a club thingy to join that might work.  I've had a lot of trouble with the French friends I've made because I don't trust ANY of the French fans except one who is several years older than me and lives in a different city.  The others I may love but am still suspicious of.  I think the easiest would be to make friends with Americans or other such foreigners who are living here.  They could give me advice and I could know how to read them.  I'm a really good judge of character but that radar gets damaged when it has to cross a language barrier.  We were told last year as students to try to avoid foreigners and mingle with locals, but now that I'm trying to become a foreign local I see finding a group of people with a similar background as a pretty good idea.

Romatically, I'm withering.  The longest I'd ever gone without hearing from him was five days, and it has now been twelve.  I know I could do better but I can't even find normal friends, so how am I supposed to find someone as attractive as him who is also less difficult to deal with?  All of the emotional romance stuff is gone from the equation now and it's just boiled down to attraction, which I think is better considering how unavailable he is, but the problem is I still don't have a plan B.  It took me five months to break him in and we were pals before that... that's a lot of work for only two hours of clumsy payoff.  I don't even know any other attractive men, famous ones notwithstanding.  But I can't keep throwing myself at him and letting him think it's okay to walk all over me.  I am one of the only people left who knows about the situation who doesn't think he's a giant douchebag and that makes me feel terrible for making a big show of slamming the door once he was out of earshot and then checking every day to make sure I left it unlocked.  I took in the welcome mat but I didn't hide the key.

So I did what I do best and turned to the weird innate superstition in me.  One month from the last time he texted me is December 4th, which is also the anniversary of the first day I really noticed him as a person.  Funny how that works.  I will wait and stop checking my phone until that day.  If he hasn't noticed that he is letting something that most humans of the stereotypically male persuasion could only fantasize about wander out of his life through sheer idiocy by then--by which I mean, if he hasn't texted me by then--I *will* make a real decision.  Maybe I'll be so angry at him by then that I won't want to ever speak to him again.  Maybe I'll convince myself that he needs a long message explaining my feelings.  I don't know.  I'm going to wait.  Having a goal in mind makes it less open-ended, which makes the silence less final, which makes it less scary.  It also means I don't need to fret or try to make a decision for several weeks, during which time I can work on that whole social life thing, and who knows, maybe I'll find one of the jillions of people out there who are better at life than he is.

Today I was thinking about the first time I heard Grenade by Bruno Mars and how I immediately thought he was singing about my love for Florent Mothe.  I then realized with great satisfaction that I would NOT catch a grenade for my Frenchman.  I honestly believe, without trying to sound snotty, that between the two of us, I'm the one who would be missed by more people.  Now if it *was* Florent Mothe you can bet your ass that there will be pieces of flabby American all over the damn place and one very shocked French rock star picking pasty flesh out of his beard for a few hours.  But for my Frenchman... no.  I would not catch a Grenade for ya, and you won't do the same.

There.  Update.

 1. I think my tattoo is finally starting to be itchy and have dead skin on it!  It never scabbed, but I don't bleed easily and it's just linework.  Next it has to peel and then I'll know if it's okay or needs a touchup AND I can stop having panic attacks every time it touches something!

2. Had a long conversation with my mother about sex and I finally understand why she holds her old-timey views and, more importantly, I firmly disagree with them and I know why I disagree with them!  I feel like I'm right and that's a huge relief.  For the first time, I honestly believe that I'm not making a mistake in my plans to loosen up a bit when I'm back in Paris.

3. Today I realized a life-long dream to dye my hair a dark shade of red that I think stems from being obsessed with Ariel as a child.  I like it.  And Kelley realized her dream of getting a pink streak in her hair after more than a year of wanting one.

Before hair:

 

After hair:

 

I'm a big fan of it.

4. I was wearing my tanktop again today, still trying to be confident and unapologetic.  Usually I expect people to give my belly weird looks but all that happens is guys stare at my boobs.  Awesome.  Today however, as we walked into a restaurant, a slutty sorority type finally lived up to my expectations and raised her eyebrows at my weight.  But I didn't feel ashamed like I thought I would when that moment came.  In fact, I wanted to take my bigass calzone stuffed with cheese and go sit next to her at her table and eat it there while she picked at her salad.  Bitch, you can judge my looks all you want, but in 31 days a hotass Frenchman is going to start texting me again and you are still going to be living in fucking Carrboro.  Enjoy your salad and your frat boys.

5. My epilator came in the mail.  It is definitely very sting-y, which is unpleasant but not impossible to deal with.  I'm not super happy with it because I did one leg and when I run my hand over it it feels quite scratchy.  Also there are red bumps but I'm sure they'll go away.  HOWEVER.  I used it on my underarms and it hurt like a mofo BUT. My underarms have never looked so hairless in my LIFE.  Hurray!  I don't know what the deal is with my leg though.  I got kind of emotionally exhausted after the leg and the armpits and I just called it quit for the night, so my other leg is still a jungle.  Does anyone on my flist find epilators to be a successful thing?  Do you have tips?

6. That man moved in.  He's very good at not being awkward, which makes me jealous.  I now live in the corner of the living room, but I'm extremely content with it.  I hate having too much space, and that whole room was unnecessary.  This corner makes more sense.  I like it here.

So here's me in my corner trying to model my tattoo...




Also, my hair.  I decided last night I wanted to dye it and today it's done.  I think now that I have a tattoo I've decided that nothing else is scary.

Seriously, I need to iconify Nathan Wallace banging his head against the wall.  I could get srs mileage out of that icon.

Okay!

So, here's the part that makes me want to inflict pain upon myself:
My cute little art-y theatre is opening Friday the 13th tomorrow.  Nooooo.  The dirty rednecks who showed up for The Wrestler were bad enough, but now we'll have to get all the idiots I used to have to deal with at the multiplex whyyyyy?  I love catering to old ladies and Whole Foods snobs!  Wah.

And here are my Sims!  Richmond, Julian, and Sophie became teenagers.  Richmond and Julian fell in love (so there!) but then Sophie developed a crush on Richmond (almost canon?) and slapped him the next time he made out with Julian...?  Even though he and Julian were going steady... I don't know.  STFU, Sophie.  Also, George meditated so much he can now hover and teleport you guys this game is amazing.

( Just two caps this time. ) 

Unfortunately, when they grew up to adult Julian's and Sophie's faces became super thin... why couldn't I have just let them have fat cheeks as kids?  Because I'm an idiot.  Fail.  But still I love them.

Also this boy and I might like him and he's been stopping by our room more and more.
That is all I wish to say about that.


Need to find better hair for Richmond.  Want to find Les Mis skins or something.

We moved Voldetta and Voldina, the horrifying ones, into their own house.  Then Kat made Edward and Edwardo Cullen and moved them in across the street.  They will have beautiful children.

ALSO!  There's this semi-retarded Sim who comes with the game.  His name is Goopy.  He wears plaid shorts and eats rotten food.  Blind Mag is pregnant with his baby.