January 17th, 2011

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(no subject)

There's this one thing that has been bothering me for a while...

I want to lose weight.

I'm not exactly fat, but I'm round. Right now I'm about 176 cm/5 foot 8 inches tall and weigh 70 kilos/154 pounds; my mom told me she weighed ten kilos/22 pounds less when she was at my age.

The one thing I hate in my appearance is my pudgy stomach; everywhere else I look pretty fit, but my stomach makes my body look like a mushy asparagus with a lifesaver around the middle.

Not to mention I have a terrible posture; my back looks like the letter S. It makes me look like a vulture.

Why do I want to be skinny? Well, not exactly skinny, but fit?
Is it because I want to find my lover, be honored, get more attention? Be harassed sexually?

It's tearing me apart.
pyramidheadrainbow

(no subject)

I think it's nice to keep a LiveJournal; no matter how boring my day has been, or more like, no matter how much I think my day has been boring, writing a long and detailed entry makes me feel all better.

I had horrible dreams; I had to go to junior high to attend the high school classes I had skipped. My old bullies, Sami and Miika where there, we were attending English class in the classroom in Myllymäki junior high where we used to have English lessons; the teacher was the substitute counselor from Casa Franca.
I was bullied so much I had a complete mental breakdown, I was dragged to a mental hospital in Helsinki so hastily that I left my shoulder bag in the corridor.

The hospital itself was a pretty nice place, but I kept on yelling at the nurses and the nurses yelled back. In one part of the dream I was yet not admitted the permission to go outside (in Kellokoski there was this rule; the patients didn't have a permission to go outside when they first were signed in, but once they gained more trust they were admitted a permission, step by step; first a permission to go outside with a nurse, then go to the yard three times fifteen minutes a day, then blah- blah- blah and finally a permission to move outside as much as they wanted) but I broke the rules and went for a walk outside where the sun shone and cellophane flowers of yellow and green bloomed.
Now that I think about it, this part of the dream reminded me of the rehab ward where I suffered from agoraphobia and the nurses made fun on me; everytime I complained about something, like I had a headache, a male patient harassed me, I had menstrual pains, they just said something like "But why don't you just pop out to the fresh air?"
The dream went on; the English teacher was interviewed for a Finnish tabloid magazine named Ilta- Sanomat, she told my story of being bullied in school.
I watched a strange cartoon; it was about the tension between the Finns and the Russians in the beginning of the 20th century, the Russians cut some old Finnish lumberjack's legs below the knee and burned him on a stake, and at the end the lumberjack went to Heaven and the Russians burned in hell.

In another dream, I was watching the musical Starlight Express, the scenes where Rusty got the shit beaten out of him by Greaseball's cronies, and Pearl comforted him.

In another dream, I was in Kangasala, I didn't know how I had ended up there but I desperately tried to find my grandma to ask for help. I tried to climb up a hill, and ended up stepping bare- footed in human excrement.

The last thing I dreamed of was the shoulder bag in the corridor, I desperately wanted to go fetch it but then I woke up. I remember how weird it felt how the dream dissolved, and I noticed I was lying on the dusky corner of my alcove, looking at the drawings I had printed out and Scotch- taped on the wall.

You wouldn't know how relieved I was when I woke up! Dreams = my enemy number one.

I had some chocolate left from yesterday, I nommed them without feeling any guilt. I will never give up chocolate!

After having a wash, taking a shower, dressing up, making myself presentable and having a breakfast, I started figuring out what should I do today.

I decided to go down the Kitler hill to the shops; I visited Citymarket to buy a can of milk and two chocolate bars, then I visited the bank to deposit whatever money I had left in my wallet to my savings. I was penniless by now, but I didn't mind as I wouldn't use any more money today and besides tomorrow I would receive more money. Then I will deposit a tenner to my savings and send another tenner to Suvi, to cover the costs of the Transformers shoulder bag she ordered for me.

Then I visited the library, used the customer computer to log on to my bank account and see if the money had actually "arrived safely". I checked out my requests, but none of them were ready to be picked up.

I wanted to visit Anttila's kitchen department, but I was afraid of the milk getting warm so I went back home.

The weather was a little warmer, it was not below zero anymore. And as you can guess, inside my quilted Michelin man jacket I was all hot and bothered and frustrated and pissed off and sweating my bollocks off, but I cooled down very quickly when I noticed I had received the package and Christmas card promised by weirdsister_fis. When I saw the tartan- printed wrapping paper, I felt a little better.
The card contained warm greetings, and the package contained two Dutch Fair Trade chocolate bars, one milk chocolate and one crispy caramel.
I was so happy I immediately felt a little better, and I started cooking.

I made potato mash with broccoli; I peeled the potatoes, chopped them in half and the halves in half, rinsed them to get the starch off, boiled them until they were soft and mushy, poured the water away, smashed them and added a little milk and butter. And what do you know? It turned out to be the loveliest, creamiest, most scrumptious potato mash I have ever cooked!

I boiled the broccoli with some salt in the water, and they turned out nice too.

I was almost in tears of joy after getting my stomach filled on my own terms, I even called my mom (to her work phone, she doesn't answer her cellphone while at work) and shared the happy news with her.

I started watching the movie Tracey Fragments, I had avoided watching it as it is a pretty intense movie that delivers the brutal truth about a teenager life filled with self- hatred, bullying, mental disorders and retarded parents.
The movie was okay by now, I have seen it many times and not to mention I have had my own share about all the things mentioned up there. Actually, I skipped the boring parts, and encouraged by Tracey I added some black eyeliner, but it made me look like I was a teenage prostitute who has a severe case of PMS, so I washed them off after finishing the movie.

I felt a little courageous, so I logged on to YouTube to watch Silent Hill walk through videos, but the only ones I could find (the ones that weren't blocked because of copyrights) had a voiceover by some German nerd.
I love the first scenes of the first SH game, where Harry arrived to the aforementioned town, experiences the shift to Otherworld, is overwhelmed by the child demons and picks up some equipment at the 5to2 café before the Air Screamer pops in for a surprise visit.

I visited the Ghost World site, and decided to watch the movie. God, it's probably the only movie in the world I will never grow bored of.

I decided to watch it with Swedish subtitles (and also made a request on the Swedish translation of the comic album on the online library service), but I found it quite hard to write my diary and watch the movie at the same time. (Currently I'm at the second art class scene, where Phillip tells Roberta Allsworth, the flaky Arts teacher about his drawing depicting the Mutilator).

Well, it's almost eight p.m. now so I must take my meds. See y'all later, cuties!
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