A clairvoyant is someone who can see the future. Or smell the future or sense it or... whatever. Who knows about events that have not yet happened(NOTE: Never waste your money on carnival clairvoyants; I once gave one €4, she told me she saw lots of men around me. I asked her where but she never answered that. Still no man dares to come near me. If only I'd known it was a waste of time...).
Sometimes I am glad I am not a clairvoyant. Why want to know the future when being surprised can make it twice as much fun? On the other hand, sometimes I really wish I wasone, because I can get so upset about things to happen, simply because I don't know what exactly is to happen, that I think being psychic could help me calm my nerves.
Imagine never being nervous or anxious again, because you alreadyknowwhat'sgoingtohappen.Ha!
A few examples: starting my new job. Helping elderly people out with their household chores is very rewarding and nice and all, but meeting them is not. I mean, I am not good with meeting new people, simply because I am always terrified they're not going to like me. And that makes me nervous, which makes me itchy, which makes me even weirder than I usually am, which often leads to people thinking I am retarded if not completely crazy.Aviciouscircleitis, itellyou!
So before I started my job I got so upset and panicky about meeting all these new people, invading their homes and cleaning for them in a way they're probably not used to. If 'd been a clairvoyant, I'd have been able to take a quick peek into the future and see how nice they all are and how lovely they'll treat me (and what their houses look like and where I can find all the cleaning stuff - that would have seved me tons of time!).
Second example: my sister's birthday party. I was so upset, the only thing that took away a bit of my nerves and anger was to blog about it. And what came of that is one of the most awful posts I've written since I've started. I am not proud of it, but I refuse to remove it, since it is a blog and it represents what I felt, however horrible it was. Anyway, turned out the party was ok. We got cake. We played with the kids. We got drinks and attention and we didn't even get insulted by the other family (also mainly due to the fact that the b*tchsisterfromhellwasawayonaholiday).
Basically, I tend to get so worked up over nothing. It always turns out to be fine.Sure, sometimesit'snotfine,butit'sneverworsethanIimagine.
From this I deduct there's some things I'll probably never learn. I'll never learn to expect the worst in situations, probably because I know it means reality will be better than the mental images I have. And second: I'll never learn to see the future. Because I'm too scared of what will be the outcome. You know, one day it could be worse than I imagined it. And finally, I'll probably never cease to be a scaredy-cat.
But maybe that's a good thing. It'll keep me on my toes. Plus, always knowing everything must become boring eventually.Wecan'tallbelikeGoogle,afterall;)
Although if someone could tell me where all those men are at, I'd be glad to hear it!
July 26th, 2014
Just this once, I will (partly) use the definition given on dictionary.reference.com instead of my own, simply because it's too perfect to overrule: (vermiform) appendix, noun; a narrow, blind tube protruding from the cecum, having no useful function.
I am the appendix of my family. No, I do not protrude from the cecum, but I feel as if I am useless. This might sound like a depressed rant, but honestly, this is how I feel and how I've been feeling for years. You see, nobody in my family takes me seriously. I have no close bond with my sisters, simply because there's 7 years between me and the eldest and 4 years between me and the other one, and only 3 years between them. So all my life, I've been the odd one out, the black sheep. This feeling only got worse since I'm 27 and still living at home and they've moved out years ago, I'm the only one that doesn't want to fit in (e.g. find a 9-5 job, move out, find a man, get married, have babies, get a dog and a white fence and work my butt off until my pension and then die before I can cash in). The feeling grew even more on me since my mum got ill and I was the only one of us three to properly take care of her. And that was also the time in which I realised it's always been like this and will never change. My family members do things I'd never do, and so, I suppose, we don't understand each other. And because I'm the only one acting differently, I am the loser and I am not taken seriously. Basically, in my head, this is the image my family members, my sisters in particular, must have of me: "There's us, right here. And then there's our spouses (and in my eldest sister's case the kids). Then there's all our friends. And acquaintances. Then there's our parents. And our uncles and aunts and cousins. And long lost other family folks. And strangers on the street. Then there's my one sister who's 3 years older/younger than me and her family. And that's it. Did I forget anyone? Oh right, Sam. Yeah, she's there, too. Kind of." No matter what I do, no matter if I'm successful at something or not, my sisters look down on me and treat me like a baby. They never listen to my stories or think I can do things on my own. Basically, they just don't care. I think I'm mostly upset because my eldest sister is having her birthday party tomorrow and I don't like her boyfriend. You can say what you want, but that woman's got a talent for finding idiots and staying with them for a long time. This particular boyfriend of hers has a family which he appreciates a whole lot more than he does us, and he's not afraid of showing us; where I always try to be polite to everyone, even the ones I dislike most, he just neglects us. Two years ago, my sister baked a cake for her birthday like she does every year. He fed it to his family and his family alone, slicing down pieces that were almost bigger than my bedroom, and then telling me and my parents that the cake was gone in a second (yeah, duh!). We had to settle for making our own tea and coffee and grabbing a lousy cupcake from the fridge. Which wasn't the worst part, because I was willing to forget all about it like we always do: pretend we're all good and all fine and just sit down and smile and be indirectly insulted and never indirectly insult back. Until the sister of this dipsh*t overheard her brother telling us he'd run out of cake. She instantly took a huge bite and then proclaimed, extra loudly, how absolutely fantastic it was, and could she have the recipe? (I will not mention how she went on and on to repeat herself a good couple of times, just as loud - Oops! I just did!). Bitch. Even though by then I'd stopped believing in God, I was praying she'd choke on it, but no luck :( God must have stopped believing in me, too. Anyway, if you think: whatever, it's just a piece of cake, get over it. Here's two reasons why I can't: 1) I have a sweet tooth and cake is one of my biggest loves 2) it happened again after my sister gave birth to her second child a good month ago This second time, luckily there was no bitch sister-of-the-moron, but his parents were seated on the sofa holding the baby with two empty plates in front of them, telling us they'd gotten a huge piece of cake and how my nephew had helped them eat it. Needless to say, my sister's moronic boyfriend promised us some edible sweetness as well, but we never saw it. I'm focusing on the cake now, but it's not really about the cake. It's about respect and hospitality, which both my sisters lack when it comes to their part of the family, especially me. Because I'm just that silly little girl who lives with their parents and has no life. And no cake (is this the right time to mention my other sister pulled this crap on me once as well? Feeding all the apple pie to the other guests, knowing I don't like cherries and as so had nothing to munch on amidst gnawing people? Hmm, better not. Oh wait: - Oops! I did it again!). Anyway, I guess I am just upset. Visiting either of my sisters is always like going to a bad play. Although I must say I'm great at acting, always pretending to be nice and understanding, and people buy it. Third time is the charm, they say. But charm or not, I'm taking my own biscuits with me tomorrow. Just saying.
July 22nd, 2014
Lethargic ~ /luh-thahr-jik/
If exhaustion is what you feel, restlessness is what you experience, and lack of energy is what you endure, then lethargic is the word to describe yourself perfectly.
I am lethargic. I can't explain why, but I feel so exhausted all the time, and it makes me so badly not want to do anything, while in fact I have a whole lot to do. So it sucks big time :(
Seriously, I am blaming the weather (and possibly Body Pump, because I swear I did not know it was possible for hips to feel tired, or that gravity could pull so hard on your legs).
Anyway, it's been so hot lately, it makes me wonder if all the people that were complaining of this Summer to be a typical Dutch one (i.e. lots of rain and no sun) are now complaining it is too hot. Probably.
But, the sun has heard our/their prayers and has found us, and is now reluctant to stop showing up everyday and makes us cool down a bit. Which is why, I think, I am as lethargic as one could get. I could sleep all day and still be tired. And that's bad, because I started work yesterday and I need all the energy I can get.
Okay, so my work is not that exciting; I got hired as a household help for elderly people, with a maximum of 30 work hours a week. So it's not much, but that's why it's perfect: I also need time for my homework (e.g. stalking people to get them excited for my "I'm travelling to Norway this September and want to write about it"-adventure, stalking other people to find out how and where I can go to find a job fighting sexual abuse worldwide, and finally writing my stories). Oh, and I also need time for my course in Icelandic, my friends, my many workouts and of course, time for myself.
Djeezers I am one busy woman. Even thinking about it all makes me SOOO tired! I wish my homework would do itself (although I shouldn't complain with all the good luck I've had so far), my work would do itself and I'd just get paid, and most of all I wish this heat would die down a bit.
That's it! Can't take it anymore, I am going to get myself an ice-cream and sit in the garden. I deserved it after yesterday and today. I deserve a little treat. And some lethargy.
July 9th, 2014
Superstar ~ /soo-per-stahr/
A superstar is someone who is widely known for being totally awesome, keeps him/herself busy with numerous tasks and is equally good at every single one of those tasks.
Okay, so I haven't been that busy with writing stuff for my blog, but that doesn't necessarily mean I've not been busy at all. Au contraire, I have been extremely busy!
First of all, I decided I dislike my haircut, because my hair is very... big and when I don't put it up I look like a fluffy dandelion:
Second, I didn't get hired for the help desk job I applied for a good week ago. Bit of a strange story, but the recruiter told me the team they thought I'd fit in best was already full... Which is my own fault, when you think of it, because I kept saying I had grown tired of hearing I "do not match their profile" and was eager to hear something more creative. Wishgranted.
Thirdly, my job coach is driving me insane, and it's not even until next week that I'll see her again. But, even though she keeps me very busy, her advice and tips are good and it's lead to me being "hired" by my cousin to join her on one of her Norway trips and write a review about it! Which is totally awesome, because I've never been to Norway but I've always wanted to go, and now I can go there with people I know and trust, AND write something about it! Write!! I love writing, I love travelling, so thisisgreat!
It's also a lot of organising and stalking people and planning things, but I am positive and determined to bring this to a good end. To make my cousin happy she took me on and be proud of myself I did itwell.
Fourthly, after I told my job coach I didn't get the help desk job, she emailed me back with some more tips. This lead me to be a bit bold and email someone about a job I'd seen online (but couldn't apply for anymore), as a household help during the summer break. And he called me back today and arranged for a meeting with someone else tomorrow, to talk things over. So, within a week of being declined, I got a new job interview! Boo-yea!
And finally, yesterday I went over to Tilburg to meet up with one of my best friends and someone she'd introduced me to through email. This other girl works for a non-profit organisation and was eager to help me out, answer loads of my questions and even offered to set up a meeting with her supervisor who also happens to be the expert on sex trafficking and sexual abuseworldwide.Which just happens to be exactly the direction I want to move into!
So, I have been super busy! But things seem to be going well, even though I sometimes feel I've taken on more than I can handle. Good thing is that I am good with planning things and as long as I stick to my plans, there shouldn'tbeaproblem.
Oh sod it, fears! I am simply going to rock and will continue to rock as from now! Because that's what superstars do.
July 1st - Intermezzo Update
It's dawned on me that I keep writing about stuff that's on my mind and what I did and am up to, but I forget to write about how it all ended. So here's a little update:
had my second job interview today. The first one, last week, was with a
recruitment agency to see if I'm eligible for the job I applied for,
and the one today was with the organization I hope to be working for as
from next month. I have a good feeling about it, but then again: you
never really know until you know. They said they'll be in touch with my
recruitment agency and that my agency will let me know by the end of
this week if I made the cut or not. So: fingers crossed!
little matchstick ingot in my arm seems to work... I think. I am still
not totally convinced but so far a lot of my pains have disappeared and, well... other things have not been so bad this time around ;)
And finally: I am still totally kick-ass!
Just so you know ;)
July 1st, 2014
Why was the little ant so confused? Because all his uncles looked like a(u)nts! - Seriously, open any lame pub jokes book and you'll find this one in it...
The little riddle is of course ridiculous, but last Saturday I became an aunt for the second time. The first time was a little over 1,5 years ago fromababyboy and now thesamesister thatprovidedmewith myfirst nephew hasgivenbirthtoagirl.
Don't get me wrong. I don't hate kids. I don't dislike them. But I'm never comfortable around them, either. With the little ones, such as this gorgeous little girl Dina (/Dee-nah/), I'm always terrified I'll hold her wrongly, or don't support the head the proper way. Gives me the chills to think about al the things I could mess up with such a tiny littletykeinmyarms...
With the slightly bigger ones, like Dina's older brother Jelle (/Yell-ehh/), I'm scared I'll be too strict, or not fun enough, or make it cry all the time (which happens to me a lot by the way, even when I'm justtalkingtohim), or won't understand what he means.
And when they get older, around the age of my mate Katie in Dublin (she was 7 when I left last), I'm even more nervous about messing something up, not understanding their speech properly or doing something that will traumatize them for the rest of their lives (but Katie still loves me, so I must be doing some things right, too).
Anyway, I'm trying. Despite my fear of hurting them of making a fool out of myself (and let's face it: I do the latter all the time), I keep trying and trying. Because the base of my fear is the fact that I've always been the youngest in the family. I'm my grandparent's youngest grandchild, I'm my parent's youngest child and from both family's I'm the youngest direct cousin. So I've had no practice whatsoever regarding children, and I'm left with zero knowledge of kids. Zilch.Nada. Absolutely nothing.
My sisters, of course, seem to know it all and find it very odd that a 27-year-old can't change a diaper, or won't pick up a baby from its crib (which I did for the first time ever, by the way, with Dina. And I didn't drop her, snap her neck or handicap her in any way! :D). For me, all things baby and kids are just... scary. It's a big grey area. But I am working on it, no matter how afraid I am.I'mtakingbabysteps(punintended)tobecomeabetter, morecomfortableaunt.
'Cause it turns out I like kids better than I thoughtIdid:)