Pensive...

I've been wanting to write again, for a while now. I suck at talking to people and as I get older it seems my anxieties and fears only get worse. While I still have friends, I find myself having a hard time trusting most everyone, myself included, and from time to time I'll shut myself off completely with the exception of my art.

As I was lying here giving myself the indulgence of a couple days off, pigging out to my hearts (dis)content, my old 3 year plan came back to me. The one I had put together just before I met the one person I trust these days, my boyfriend. My partner in crime. My bear, who makes sure I never feel like Goldilocks, Mr. Bird.

It's been almost two years already. He's been amazing in giving me space to heal and grow. He's a smart one. He broke my code on the day we met, figured me out and got me to fall in love with him by being who I needed him to be. In other words, he put in the effort. It almost makes me feel guilty sometimes I can't do more for him than being a sweet escape from the hellish battles he seems to fight everyday. Apparently it's enough for him, that I can be a pink glittery oasis in a world of self absorbed blood suckers and entitlement.

I remember I was at a point my shell was getting harder by the day when we met. I was learning to self preserve and seemed to be on a path to become a lonely amazon. That timeline was disturbed and the present timeline was created when two unlikely fellows became acquainted over something as nerdy as Star Trek.

I liked her, the woman I was becoming. She was strong, albeit lonely, and more powerful than I'll ever be. Her plan was to work like a mule for 2 years and move to Asia to study the food to become a proper food writer. She's in there somewhere, grumbling while I watch anime to fall asleep, beckoning to go to Asia. She is also very selfish, which makes me worry that she will come out at a bad time. I guess to be self preserving is to be selfish.

*

I've been in a very interesting place in my mind since we decided it was only logical for me to move to Vegas. When was that? Somewhere around this time last year, I think. I had just had one of the best summers and if three months of daily coexistence didn't hurt the flame, we figured this would work out.

Yes, it will work out. But ever since this time last year I've been waiting. Not passively waiting. Actively waiting. But still, waiting. It's an unique position. Short term plans only. Anything farther than a year away is more like a day dream than a plan.

Now I have 8 months left. Left on my lease. Left to tie loose ends in Brazil and make preparations for my life in the US. Obviously I plan on returning, maybe twice a year, to tour for a month or so and share the knowledge I am in an unique position to gather abroad. I have a linguistic advantage I'm well aware of when it comes to my area of study, burlesque, and my peers in this country. I never dreamt I would move to Vegas, but a closer look at the history of my art form and it makes sense.

The legends are there. The museum is there. And now I will be as well. To build a life. To have an actual nest. A suburban sized home oh so different from my cozy 344 sq feet apartment in Sao Paulo which now looks so much like me it's painful to start taking it apart. But I can build a bigger world out there. I'll even have to face new challenges. I never thought I would be eager to learn how to drive, but now I am. Driving means independence in America, and I have had to come to terms with that.

*

Writing is an interesting way to unravel the mess of threads in my mind. I'll be back here, with my nightmares and dreams of Asia, burlesque, my eating issues and what not.

This is a personal journal. I just choose to leave it out in the open. But these are musings about my life and here and there, a daydream or two. Proceed with caution.

*

I like the quote of the day on my desktop App:

"Life is simple. Are you happy? Yes? Keep going. No? Change something."

Who's carnaval?

It's a holiday in Brazil. Who's holiday? Freelancers don't get holidays, no, not the broke ones. My ex, Tanuki, saved my sorry ass with a loan to pay to rent (and it took me days to swallow my pride and ask for said loan). I hear the birds outside singing away and think... yeah, birds never get a day off.

Oh, hi PMS. I need to cuddle up to someone/something and a ton of coffee. And a good book. Or movie. Or even a new k/j-drama. I need a moment to rest. To breath. To be.

This feeling.

So I'm feeling torn apart. Torn between my desire to rest for the day and just eat whatever I want (and can afford) and the need to run twice as fast into my monster of a to-do list. I got stuff done today. Don't get that part wrong. I'm doing stuff too. I'm surrounded by stuff to do. There really is no escape.

But a quiet moment would be nice. A day where I wouldn't feel guilty to skip my 20km power walk (hey, that's working!) and the skin could grow back on my toes. A day to cuddle up and not leave the house. I day I don't have to skype or text or email ou facebook because the person I want to spend time with is next to me.

A day I could cry comfortably. I haven't been allowing myself to cry or despair. Not now. I'm pushing all things past April. April is my deadline. April is when the reality show I was in airs and everything changes. Or doesn't. I'm putting my chips on April and whatever it may bring. Then I'll figure things out. Till then, no real attempts ate getting a job, but just hanging on. Really really tight. I got till April to get my best body, my best attitude, to keep my smile on. I hope May finds me better off. I really do.

I should take the Korean advice to heart and stop doing useless things, as well. Or things that seem useless now. Like skyping with a korean-american cutie who is drawing me in way too easily. He's too young, Sweetie. He doesn't have a job. He's still in school. He lives with his parents. (And the sound of my rationalization is oh so loud). He's cute as hell. He's into bdsm. And has the same fetishes as I. Oh boy. There is a 6 hour difference between São Paulo and L.A. and it's killing me. I'm just sooooooo tired. I don't know where this is going. If it's worth investing my time and energy into. But so far, it's fun. Even if really tiring. It would be really nice if... too many "if"'s honey.

Last night I danced. It's carnaval, after all, and the club was full. I needed the money and the people are fun. But for some reason at some point I felt like a helpless lamb. A piece of meat. Do people really get all this braver during the season or am I putting off sub vibes? I had to shove off at least 5 different guys. Even with my face oh so close to my phone. Not drinking as much has me more aware? I don't know. I mean, even after, while I was eating, some older dude was staring at me for about 40 minutes. I just wanted to curl up and disappear.

Whew. Ok, I got a lot off my chest. Time will not wait to me, so I must follow. I'm in survival mode, at least till April. Keep on pushing, Sweetie. Hwaitting! Gambatte! Nintai! You can make it work. There is only way to go, and it's forward.

At least I nailed my lucky lunar NY meal. Hope it works.

Biting my teeth so I don't scream.

Maybe it's my upcoming birthday.
Maybe it's the fact I have less than 10 bucks in my wallet for the week. (Not counting the money I put aside for the kpop show in the end of February - my only birthday gift to myself).
Maybe that I haven't been making much money at all. Even if I am working on things I love.
Maybe it's the fact I'm drowning in debt right now.


I'm pushing down the need to scream and cry. I don't have the time for that. I can't afford the luxury of being depressed. Literally.

I'll be ok. It always turns out ok.
Once again, I'll be the one making/buying my own cake for my birthday.

Sick

I hate feeling sick. Specially when I know that is mostly due to anxiety. And maybe/probably/most likely PMS. Sick to the point I can't funcion normally. Sick to the point I'm bed ridden.

I can't afford to be sick.

I shouldn't be this anxious, but I am. Five days of migraine, and now the taquicardia and chest pain. Yeah, I'll have to make time to go to the doctor. But for now I'm trying to function on herbal teas and supplements. I just need to get through this next week.

One week till I present my end of course book. We present. And then it's over.

Or is it?

Cabin fever, day 2

It's the second day I'm antsy with cabin fever. Go figure. Maybe it's that my college ordeal is almost over? I've kind of bit indulging well in food and drink, and thanks to my graduation project I don't really have the money, but who cares? A beer here and there, I can make do with the bills later.

Funny how this works. I was gonna post this, in portuguese (well, the essence), on facebook. But then I thought a bit more about how directly it will bug some people I know. So screw them.

I can spend 3, 4 days at a time without wanting or needing to leave the house. But then every once in a while I get bit by this little bug that reminds me just how cool is the world out there. And I don't even need that much company to enjoy it.

Seriously, I pity those who aren't comfortable in their own company. How sad and lonely it must be to not be enough to oneself. If you always need other people so that you can be distracted of how shallow you actually are, I pity you.

Don't get me wrong. I enjoy the company of many different people. I just enjoy mine more.

I'm almost done with Secret Garden. Gonna make something yummy to eat and finish off this Drama.

x_x

Yesterday Oppa managed to spend the night. I don't know what to make out of that kid. He's nice. And sweet. But even though he'll taunt me and tease me saying he's the mature one among the both of us, I'm not so sure. Or is he that comfortable with me that he'll fall asleep almost everytime during sex? Aish... 어떡해?

Seriously, 어떡해? Maybe it's the alchohol. Gonna figure this out, eventually.

cute overdose... and a much needed rest

Yes, you can overdose on cute. OMG, I had a cute cute sweet day, and it was almost perfect. It just wasn't perfect because Young Lae 오빠 had to leave. I'd say it should feel ridiculously strange to call someone 10 years younger than me 오빠. But it doesn't. Not now.

I'm gonna try to keep my head on and consider this having a very good friend with lots of benefits  Yeah, that kind of benifits. I mean.. I did have a k-drama worthy dinner at home, cooking together, eating from the same dishes, feeding each other and all. He has the loveliest voice and we went over some G-Dragon tunes. Sweet. I got a future idol 오빠.

Fun story. I've been stalking the local kpop community online, but hadn't gone to say hi at my favorite study place (where they also gather to rehearse) or done much but was looking forward to going to this A-Pop party tomorrow night. Young Lae 오빠 is not only actively involved in said community, but I'd say he's idol material for the fan girls in it. Hell yeah. But I could swear he was gay. Is. Whatever. So... not... true.

He's a diva. That's how we started talking online, a few days ago. Then texting. And we finally met last night when he came over before I went to work as a hostess. You know when you're flirting but not sure you're flirting? That.

I put off going to Zombie Walk this year to take a break from life. A much needed break. Got home, slept, woke up, showered, weighed myself, put some light makeup on and went to the market. Met oppa there, bought lots of yummy ingredients, had 떡 for brunch and started a Secret Garden marathon. Cuddles, hugs, and finally kisses. Its so much fun to talk to someone who knows a lot about the stuff I like. And the xx. It had been over a month. Sweet pounding. Sweet orgasms. And dinner.

He's soooooooo cute. One moment he's super girly and a dancing diva, the next he's got that serious manly look on. Nice body, cute face, with a sense of style. Strong. Sweet. Ok, there was one thing bothering me.. the phone. Mine, I put on silent and ignored it all day. Way I see it, we're both a couple of sweet 새끼. KISS, Sweetie. A Korean guy is a good way of getting over a Japanese man. But oppa is worth a lot more as a friend.

I'm thankful for today.

weight: 65 kg! (not after todays tteok!)

TMI - and it's kind of random

One: I put a diesel green streak into my hair. Now I want the rest pastel pink.
Two: I'm fat.
Three: I need a day that goes like this song. Rhythm wise, at least.


Four: my pee smells like coffee.
Five: I need to stop procrastinating and actually work on my college final essay. I'm tired of being surrounded by papers. And I need to do laundry and stuff. It's just so overwhelming.
Six: The girl is really after me, or so it seems. Went for a coffee date yesterday, and then made out like a teenager on the street. And I'm still not sure.

Diet should start today. Not Monday. But today. Yeah, right.
I want to go study at CCSP. But my netbook can't take the workload. :(

*Everyone hurts, sometimes*

*

2 months...

It's been two months my world fell apart and I have had to be strong

I had to find a place to live (and share a house with a stranger for the first time)

I'm still looking for a job

My stuff is all in boxes and I have nothing to wear

I've been sleeping on the tiny couch for the past 20 days because I have to finish the floor in my bedroom, therefore I have to adapt my bedtime to my housemate's tv habit (and I wake up at 5 am)

I'm trying to figure out who I am on my own

Things have turned an 180... it all feels strange.

And I feel lonely. It happens to everyone, I know. Someday when I'm ready I'll tell the world how it all happened.

He deserves for me to tell.... But not now.

Now I've shut into a shell for the day, earphones on because the housemate is chatty.

I've been sick for the past month and more... no more health insurance, so I haven't seen the doctor.

It's all a mess. A litlle routine would be nice.

Performing this Friday will do me good. Its a Roxie Hart type of love, but love nonetheless.

So here I am. Feeling more lost than Alice, more hopeful than Pollyanna, more jaded than a heroin addict. I am the weaker end for whom it ended badly.

I miss having the focus to study. I miss dance classes and regular exercise. I miss the vocal exercises. I miss Sunday nights spent cuddling and eating candy in front of a random movie. I miss obsessing about silly things as my body and dieting. I miss tightlacing. I feel... shapeless. And I have no idea of how much I weigh.

I don't miss wearing the cuffs and anklets. I don't miss having someone else telling me what to or not to wear. And now that I am "free", I really need me a pair of doc martens (not that I can afford them, but still). Stat.

I think I'm about ready to cry now. I only cried once, for real. So far.

It's just strange to no longer be a "we".

I'll get over it. But tonight, my chest is heavy with anguish.

*