I’ve been apparently very busy with something for it’s been a week since the last time I wrote here. Okay, let us go through the previous week whether you want it or not.
MONDAY
I was writing the poetry analysis the entire day and evening. In the end it worked out just fine. Well, in my opinion anyway, we haven’t gotten them back yet. We’ll see, maybe next week or (God forbid!) even later this week.
TUESDAY
One enticing Halloween! We had a Samhain party here at the university on Tuesday night. One of the staff is a Wiccan and she invited us to celebrate the Wiccan New Year with her. At first I was just looming outside the door thinking I just have to cross the threshold and then I can’t back away. I wasn’t afraid of the ritual, though. The reason my hands kept shaking was because of the fact that I was surrounded by twenty strangers whose names I barely knew. I suppose I’m not very social and, even though I had to admit it, I’m frightened by other people. When the actual ritual took place I felt so much safer than ever anywhere outside my own room. By the time she blessed me I was so close to bursting into tears; it felt like someone actually cared about me. Afterwards I felt very vulnerable. Later that night I managed to come up with a useful technique to write one of my short stories with. Actually I haven’t written it yet so I cannot be sure whether its length stays within the limits of 10 000 words required of a short story. But then again, it’s not invented either. We’ll see about that as well.
WEDNESDAY
I was feeling very happy the entire day. I woke up smiling (and went to bed smiling the previous night, too), and I kept smiling throughout the day. Most of the day went by with me doing my Translations homework. In the evening I went to BodyCompat (again… this is where you can act surprised if you wish). She wasn’t there, though. Speaking of which… I have found myself thinking of Her more realistically. I mean, I still want to protect Her but I have finally realized that what I keep hoping for is never going to happen, whatever the situation. Only this time I don’t feel too sad about it. Nevertheless, She remains my Impossible Love (and I’m still clinging to the hope of getting to dedicate a book to Her).
THURSDAY
Very social day today. I was sitting on my usual spot in the English department (I am the knight of that round table), and I spent half an hour talking to three different people. May sound like an every day thing to you but in my life it can be five days before I even notice I haven’t really talked to anyone face-to-face. So speaking with three people in one day is a sort of an accomplishment to me. I had to go visiting my parents this weekend, too. I left on Thursday and spent the first night with my aunt and uncle. The main reason for me being there was that they started doing this jigsaw of Mona Lisa. I’m infamous for spending hours doing puzzles so they were hoping I would finish it for them. I almost managed to complete it. I’m obviously very predictable.
FRIDAY
I think I am no longer inclined to go visit my aunt after this afternoon. She was talking about lesbians extremely meanly. “Why do they have to shout ‘I’m a lesbian!’ [she actually shouted this] and make such a fuss of their sexual orientation? I mean, why the hell are they proud for dicks not being good enough for them?” I hate I didn’t have enough backbone to say anything. Maybe it was because my siblings were there, too. It’s possibly better coming out to only one person at a time. It’s easier to handle one possible enemy instead of three enemies. Nevertheless, I should have asked her whether she, as a straight woman, is the best to say how we feel about having sex with a man. Now I am determined to stay out of their house and once she asks me why I’ll just tell her the truth no matter how badly she takes it: I feel I’m not welcomed. I’m just not sure whether I can resist the temptation of answering her question with a somewhat mean remark: “Why I haven’t told you I’m a lesbian? I wouldn’t want to be a lesbian who makes such a fuss of their sexual orientation, now would I.”
SATURDAY
This is why I hate going visiting my parents. My father said the classic phrase (again… no need to be surprised here): “Don’t care even if I’m a little drunk.” A little drunk? Your legs barely carry you! The entire day went by with me having to listen to his drunken wisdom. The same thing continued in the evening: I was in my sister’s room getting ready to go to bed when he comes in talking something incomprehensible again. My little brother’s room is right there between this room and the living room so he was waking him up in the process. Since he refused to go to sleep I had to go to the living room to listen to his not-so-glorious speech in order to let my brother sleep.
SUNDAY
What a wonderful morning. I was eating my breakfast when my already drunken father (he must have begun drinking early to get that intoxicated by nine a.m.) wanted to express his concern both of my social life and sex life. First he asked me whether I’ve had boyfriends (actually, the term he used was “miesystävä”, that’s a new one from him). Then he started talking about virginity (not referring to me, directly at least). He just had to tell me that the women he’s had sex with haven’t bled. I didn’t mention that hymen doesn’t necessarily bleed when it breaks, if it breaks at all (it can be very flexible, according to the sexologist Kari Heusala).
I started smiling again when I got myself to a bus that would take me back home. My relatives, however, don’t seem to understand that this town where I live and study is my home. They always refer to this with some word that indicates inferiority.
Well, now I have six weeks all to myself. I only have to go back there for Christmas. I’m not sure whether I would want to. Which one is worse: having to spend a holiday with a drunken person hearing constant arguing, or spending a holiday alone but in peace and quietness? After all, ‘alone’ and ‘lonely’ are two very different things.
