The Other World

I was just taken for a university teacher.

It felt nice.

I would like to know who exactly is responsible for the unlogical citation styles of the MLA. There is no plain instruction which to follow. And the details... who needs them, anyway? It's not exactly plausible that... (dear god, that printer really is broken; horrible noise, like it's going to explode any second)... that anyone will actually go checking that the page numbers and the information sited from that/those page(s) match. And I have to continue this next week. I'm going to complain more then. Ye be warned.

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I have a presentation on Modernism in English literature coming up next week. It should be my cup of tea; I get to rant and rave about my favorite writers for half an hour. Besides, our class just started reading James Joyce's 'A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man', and there was a very awkward silence when our teacher asked what our initial thoughts of it were. I think I'm alone when I say I find it easier to read (both on linguistic and interest level) than Charlotte Brontë's 'Jane Eyre'. Well, I can assure you I will write a long entry if I manage to screw up the presentation somehow. The shorter the entry, the better the reception.

Everybody probably now expects me to join the choir to praise the on-going Valentine's Day. No. I would just like every one of you to note that friends are needed every day and your appreciation should be shown every day through small actions. This is probably a good time to tell you I did do what I was planning yesterday and (after debating with myself for about twenty minutes…) I hugged her. I almost left the building at one point but I ended up standing before the door and looking at my wrist with a reminder which made me think that “if I were to die tomorrow my last thought would probably be a regret I didn’t do this when I could”. So I went back, hugged her and thanked her at the same time. It’s quite plausible you think it’s no big deal, but actually it’s a huge deal; it was the second time in my entire life I’ve free willingly approached anyone and asked them if it’s okay for me to hug them because that’s what I want to do. I was almost petrified before it but once I got it out of my mouth it was all so much easier. She actually smiled when I said it. I was on the verge of tears again when I was walking home; it’s nice to know there is someone I can go talk to without being afraid they’ll bring me down the second they know I’m attached to them and care for them.

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I also came across with a blog with interesting quiz sites, so now you're just going to have to bear with me.

*****

How will you be defined in the dictionary?
(http://www.quizgalaxy.com/quiz.php?id=83)
[Adjective]: Like in nature to a train-riding hobo.

*****

What sexual activity will you go to jail for?
(http://www.quizuniverse.com/quiz.php?id=53)
I will go to jail for...
Quoting the Marquis de Sade to some school children.

Editor’s note: Even though no sexual activity should be against the law as long as it a mutual agreement between two or more adults who free willingly and knowingly take part in the activity. Though I would like to disagree whether quoting a book, especially a classic, is considered as “sexual activity”.

******

The Brutally Honest Personality Test
(http://www.okcupid.com/tests/take?testid=3076838567116464195)

Borefest - ISTJ
20% Extraversion, 46% Intuition, 73% Thinking, 80% Judging

“One word. Boring. Sums you up to a tee. You're responsible, trustworthy, serious and down to earth. Boring. Boring. Boring.”
Ed. Note: I think my sister would agree with this.

“You play by the rules. You follow tradition. You encourage structure. You insist that EVERYBODY do EVERYTHING by the book.”
Ed. Note: But if you know all the rules you also know how to bend them.

“Seriously, is there even an ounce of imagination in that little brain of yours? I mean, what's the point of imagination, right? It has no practical value...”
Ed. Note: Sure there is. That’s why I like writing. And sure it can be practical.

“As far as you're concerned, abstract theories can go screw themselves. You just want the facts, all the facts and nothing but the facts.”
Ed. Note: “The One Thing Needful” (Charles Dickens: Hard Times, chapter 1).

“Oh. And you're a perfectionist. About everything. You know that the previous sentence was gramattically incorrect and that "gramattically" was spelt wrong. Your financial records are correct to 25 decimal places and your bedroom is in pristine condition. In fact, you even don't sleep on your bed anymore for fear that you might crease the sheets.”
Ed. Note: I’m a perfectionist. What a newsflash.

“Thankfully, you don't have anyone else to share the bed with, because you're uncomfortable expressing affection and emotion to others. Too bad.”
Ed. Note: Except yesterday. One step at a time, people. Or, fact forbid, two steps; that was a grammatically incorrect sentence!

*****

Here is also the famous quetsionnaire first invented by Bernard Pivot and later reformed by James Lipton for his "Inside the Actor's Studio" programme:

1. What is your favorite word?
Me, myself and I answer: "Satisfaction".

2. What is your least favorite word?
M, M & I: "Have to", and would like to note it's actually a phrasal verb.

3. What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?
M, M & I: "Personality I find intriguing".

4. What turns you off?
M, M & I: "Narrow-mindedness".

5. What is your favorite curse word?
M, M & I: "Belgium".

6. What sound or noise do you love?
M, M & I: "Some people's voices are enticing. Christina Scabbia, for instance."

7. What sound or noise do you hate?
M, M & I: "Rap music...".

8. What profession other than your own would you like
to attempt?
M, M & I: "It would be interesting to be a pathologist, don't you agree?"

9. What profession would you not like to do?
M, M & I: "Any centre-of-attention professions".

10. If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?
M, M & I: "Can I show you where our Pearly Gates City Library is located, in which we have evry single book ever written before, during and after your time in every possible language, all neatly organised?"

Okay, so the rabbit pair behind the wall continues their behaviour. I've actually adjusted to it; after all, I am a human (subject open for debate) and therefore affected by the laws of Darwinism. Everyday evolution. And I can't really be angry at them; I mean, they're having sex, they're having orgasms, that's great, that's wonderful! And besides, the lover boy has turned out to be quite a house wife, cleaning our kitchen and our bathroom... Works for me.

Nothing special going on. Well, I am seriously considering in behaving contrary to how I usually behave. Tomorrow is the Valentine's Day (though I doubt whether anyone needed me to remind of that...), and I thought of hugging someone I've begun to regard as a surrogate mother. We'll see if I have the guts to do something so out of character, or do I have cold feet and return living my ice cold life. After all, I don't really hug other people if I can only avoid it.

I am amused now, but last night I was very pissed.

My roommate had her friend coming over in the evening. Everything went fine at first: they were in her room and I was in the room next to them doing my homework as I had planned earlier this week. Somewhere around after eleven I started hearing... things. And unlike I thought first, the noises were NOT figments of my lewd imagination. They were having very loud sex (and I have a hearing problem [both physical and psychological, occasionally], for the record). I tried so hard to pretend I don't exist, which was the only reaction I could think of. By the time they started the round two I ditched the whole idea of pretending to be invisible and instead banged (pun unintended) the doors and drawers to remind them that I live there too and that I am very present. Once I got to my room before the assumed third round, I sticked headphones deep in my ears and started playing first Rhapsody (I could actually physically feel Christopher Lee's voice when played so loud) and then continued with Children of Bodom in order to block the outside world, every last bit of it.

Now don't think of me as a closet prude, I really am not. I just view sex as something so private, intimate and, at least to some people, sacred that I don't want to have any part of it against my will. In some way, albeit twisted, I felt like I was actually participating in them having sex simply by overhearing them. It made me feel like someone would have violated my sexual freedom by forcing me to be so aware of what was going on behind that one single wall. It made me anxious. Am I a closet prude after all? Please, no?

Remember when I yesterday mentioned I was being photographed by a techer? Well, she told me later that day that she's going to put it on her website. Now I've spent the last thirty minutes trying to find that page in question. I know what's her maiden name, where she went to high school and when, the names of her children, the names of her pets (unusual as far as I'm concerned), her favorite indoors and outdoors activities, with whom she shares her birthday but so far I haven't found what I was actually looking for (I am expected to take hostages soon). I would just want to know how the picture eventually turned out. Well, I'll just have to wait until Monday when I can ask her.

- - -

Yesterday I also ended up taking the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator test. Turned out I'm -surprisingly enough- an INTJ personality. So as far as MBTI is concerned, I should be living in Coketown. My luck I don't; everytime I read Hard Times it just makes me feel sorry not only fot Louisa and Thomas Jr for having to bear the consequences of the narrowmindedness of the surrounding society, but also I feel sorry for Gradgrind Sr who just cannot see that whereas Fact is one thing needful, Fancy is another thing needful.

A wonderful day again! I love the weather outside! So calm and fresh and cold and the blue sky... excellent!

And my day has so far been great. I had a very interesting and highly useful discussion about literature this morning, during which I was taken, albeit reluctantly, a photograph of by another teacher. I have no idea where she could possibly feel the need to have a picture of me.

And in case I've given an impression that I'm starting to get over Her... I was wrong. She spoke to me today and She was standing closer to me than ever before. I actually could focus my attention on what she as saying to me but afterwards it came: I laughed rather nervously (mixed with relief, I suppose). Yet I felt free and happy even though something I thought was no longer there, actually was there. I'm still flushed, you know.

- - -

I also took the Gentleman test I encountered in Rain's blog (http://www.blogthings.com/areyouagentlemanquiz/). Turns out I'm 72% gentleman. "You are definitely a gentleman. You're very considerate and you have excellent manners.
Occasionally, you slip and do something foolish... but usually no one notices!" Well, I do open doors for other people, especially women. I suppose that's just my way of being friendly and polite.

"No, I am not drunk. No, I am not stoned, either. I'm just feeling happy." This was my answer to a costudent of mine when she wondered why I was smiling all the time. Very Finnish for people to think I'm under the influence if I'm smiling in the middle of winter.

Actually, I'm smiling because of what happened yesterday. I've already mentioned in some of my previous entries the teacher whose company I enjoy (not in a sexual way, for the record). Last night I realised exactly how much I think of her as my mother. I was doing my homework, and she invited me to come and study in her office, to keep her company while she read a book. Sort of "let's be alone together" thing. Before I left at 8.30 p.m. we had an interesting conversation. Turned out we both like Paulo Coelho, and that she thinks my lesbianism is "cool" (a reaction that I thought wasn't even remotely plausible to expect). When I was walking home I cried; it was just such a relief to find out she doesn't resent me because of who I am but actually said it's good I have found a way to experience the ultimate feeling, love, be it in the arms of a lover or a loved one. Her approval means so much to me. She told me she's part of the Red Cross crisis unit that might be called, for instance, to an earthquake disaster area within 24 hours to help the victims. Or she might end up in the middle of a warzone and being shot at. I do hope that will never happen, I would be very worried about her. Funny, how I still keep learning the so-called normal human behaviour, thinking if it's okay to hug her if I really feel like it or not. I guess I just have to give it my best try and hope I won't do anything that would appear too friendly or something like that. I don't expect her to worry about me or think she's obliged to care for me just because I think of her as a substitute mother. I only hope she lets me to think this way.

Speaking of Paulo Coelho, I jus received my this month's "Warrior of the Light" entry (the online version can be found in www.paulocoelho.com, I recommend it to everyone). It's a blog written by Coelho himself. This entry discussed one of the seven deadly sins, lust. I have to say that it was the Church that created such a sin; of course you can have sex without emotions being involved but to me sex is sacred. Body and mind just cannot be separated.

Having a better day, today. Hopefully it'll last. Probably, since I have a lecture coming up, held by the teacher I find extreme joy to be around.

- - -

I am now officially an X-phile (note the pun, please). I just finished the fourth season last night (and, of course, watched the one episode from the sixth season aired on Subtv). I am certain there's some elaborate conspiracy explaining the ending of Gethsemane, I just don't know it yet. I said once that I would wait at least until March before getting the fifth season but I'm not sure how I'll be able to cope with this itch I cannot scratch. Speaking of which, there was an interesting FX special on the extras called "XXX Mulder" telling about the inside/outside joke regarding Mulder's porn collection. I have to say that all the little trivial references to it made by Scully or Mulder himself are just hilarious.

"- Whatever you find in that VCR is not mine.
- Good, because I put it in the drawer with the other videos that are not yours."

I had a lecture with Her yesterday. I was on the verge of tears the whole time. Like there was something in my throat making me unable to breathe properly. And every look at Her, Her eyes or Her hair... everything made that something just expand and making it even harder for me to breathe. In the end I was nearly crying and ended up almost running out of the class room after the lecture was over. It hurts so much more than I thought it would, to be so close to Her and be confronted by the fact that she's out of my reach.

Right now I regret lending my copy of The Hours. I could use that story to reflect my feelings into and cry along with the women for the ignorant responses they get when showing their genuine feelings.

Even the mere memory of Her... seeing Her face right their in front of my eyes... it makes me so sad... now I'm really crying. I have to go home, maybe I'll feel better in a place that I find safe.