Wait… it’s over?

Did I miss something? How? Who won? What were the concrete results? The Israelis are leaving, but Hizbollah is neither dismantled nor decapitated! Hizbollah is stopping, but what about their holy war, their righteous cause, the prophet and the nation? What happened behind closed doors?

How is any normal, sane person to believe that this is normal!? Two enemies going at it like Ron Jeremy before he metamorphosed into a bear suddenly see the light of reason and decide that the innocents should suffer no more?

End result, Hizbollah is still there, the IDF soldiers are still kidnapped, the dead are still dead and the displaced are still displaced. Call me an optimistic fool, but I don’t think it will be that way for a long time. A deal was struck, Hizbollah is moving towards laying down its arms, the army is moving to the south, the soldiers will be returned (maybe exchanged for the brave resistance warrior Samir Qantar [since when is walking into a home and cold-bloodedly butchering a family called resistance, btw?]), the displaced will go back home.

As for the dead… well, if they’re soldiers, then it’s a job hazard. If they’re Hizbollah, they’re probably up there having orgies in rivers of honey. And the rest? Well, let’s get real here… when were they ever a factor? when has anyone ever really cared?

When you attacked without being provoked, you are a resistance movement. When you sacrifice a country for your agenda, you are righteous.

Tribal Mentality:

So, you cross into a sovereign nation, kill some of their soldiers and kidnap others. Of course you’re justified, they’re soldiers. That’s what they’re there for. What, the nation wants retribution? Murderers! Imperialists! Zionists! Leave me alone, I don’t want to play anymore. Wait, how about I trade you my soldiers for yours? That’s fair? No? Maaaaaaaa! The big bad zionist doesn’t want to let me play… Maaaaaa!

Retribution:

So, you want your soldiers back? Why? They’re cowards? Aren’t they? I mean… no, they’re not cowards. They’re willing to die. Right? No? Jihaaaad! (oops, sorry), no let’s talk. This is a fun game, I sneak in and hurt you every once in a while, then you say ok let’s negotiate. No? You want to hurt me back? You’re invading? Maaaaaa! Invador!!!! You’re not allowed…. I am, of course… I’m still a baby.

Logic:

What is tworisem? What is an ehkonomi? What is a cuntry? Who is nay-sean? What is a low?

Sense:

Syria? Oh, they have prisoners as well? No. We can’t fight Syria. They’re not dirty jews. They’re muslims. That’s haram. The Lebanese prisoners there? Oh, it’s not important, they’re christians.

Politics:

You can’t criticize me, I’m a religious figure. Kaboom. We are fighters, we are politicians. What? Don’t criticize me, I’m a religious figure. If you express an opinion different from mine, you’re a traitor zionist dog. What? Shush, I’m a religious figure. I will cut your arms and gouge your eyes. Because I’m a religious figure. I’m a religious figure, yes i’m the real religious figure. What? Eminem? Shut up, I’m a religious figure. whatever.

Analysis:

Let’s be blind-sighted, selective and subjective for a minute here. What’s wrong with you people? So we invaded israel first and kidnapped soldiers. That’s history. Let’s forget about that and start analysing WHY they’re fighting back. Come on, let’s say that we didn’t kidnap anyone. Ok? Israel might have still attacked for some other reason. It’s possible? Can you deny it completely? No. See!? Haha, I win! Maaaaa… I won! Let’s assume that we didn’t do anything, and that they attacked for no reason. It’s more fun to come up excuses and crazy theories than to be evolved creatures for a minute.

(And now, Ahmad, for the grand finale….) Why?:

1- Hizbullah reduces the pressure on the Palestinians, allowing them to blow up more busses.

2- Hizbullah captures the world’s attention, diverting the pressure from Iran and its’ continued terrorist attempts at obtaining nuclear weapons.

3- Hizbullah acts on Syrian orders to destabilize Lebanon, to pay Lebanon back for kicking Syria out, and to promote the idea that Lebanon is unable to govern itself.

4- Little baby Assaad was frightened by the planes buzzing his summer crib. The saddest thing: Idiots who try to justify or condone this.

I have a strange relation to my two-seat couch when using my laptop. I can only work if I’m sitting on the left side… If I try working when on the right side, I fall asleep, or I start a game of cards. If I try playing a game while sitting on the left side, I lose terribly, feel disgusted by the game and stop playing.

Overheard tour-guide in Berlin:

“So, post-war Germany was to be divided between the allies. The Americans took parts of West Germany, the British controlled parts of North-western Germany, and the Russians took parts of East Germany. Then the French said they wanted a part, since they thought they were Allies too… hehe, seriously.”

So, Brazil played in Berlin on Tuesday. God did the Brazilian chicks make a comeback. I can’t believe that I’d doubted them and sided with Sweden for a moment!

On the other hand, it’s a scientifically proven fact that football/soccer goes down well with a beer, but not with women. A female friend (and boy am I going to get my head chewed off for this!) had some interesting questions and remarks during the Sweden/Paraguay game:

“How do they know how much time to add on?”

“I don’t know… they estimate, I guess.”

“Do they round up or down?”

“Umm… I don’t know.”

“Do they have a time limit on the extra minutes they add?”

“I don’t know.”

“Wow, did you see that goal? He wouldn’t have been able to score that header if he wasn’t bald”

“What???? I’m totally blogging this!”

Germany played Poland on wednesday, apart from the predictable fights erupting all over the place, the game was pure madness. I was watching it at home, and I could hear the crowds cheering like crazy on my street… tons of people gathered at every single place with a tv, pubs, cafes, restaurants, grocery stores… this whole town is on fire… it’s seriously an amazing experience.

ps: Tomorrow is a day of major announcements at the realm. Tune in!

Not much to say regarding the world cup. One sad thought: Swedish fans are turning out to be way hotter than the brazilian chicks so far. That’s surprising, and sad. There’s still time to go, and the babes of brazil can still show up and blow me away. Here’s hoping i’m not cheering on the swedes when push comes to shove.

I watched the second round of the Champions’ League knockout stage between Werder Bremen (Germany!) and Juventus… It was an experience… (even makes up for the boring ‘date’)…

Bremen had won in the home stage and could have easily won this won… the Germans went crazy when they scored a goal early on, and held on to the lead throughout the first half… as usual, my outsider mode kicked in, and I was passively taking it all in, not really caring about the game, or the people, or the atmosphere… I don’t believe in forced euphoria… if it comes, it comes naturally…

Anyway, the Italians tied it, some twenty minutes into the second half, and here’s where things got funny… the bar went still… a hundred crazed fans suddenly stopped breathing and synchronized their heart beats to the ticking clock on the big screen… it was all well until two minutes before the end of regulation… the goalkeeper, who had done a commendable job, made a pretty save and decided to add some Hollywood to it… he jumps, twists, hits the grass and rolls… unfortunately, he loses his grip on the ball, and a Juventus player gently drives it into the goal… 2:1 Juventus, Bremen was heading towards an elimination…

The pub uttered a collective gasp of surprise, agony and rage… I had to keep myself from giggling (Giggle LESS!)… It was Emerson, the Brazilian squad’s captain who’d driven the proverbial stake into the german fans’ hearts… to me, it’s always a good day when a brazilian footballer gives it to a german one… the goalkeeper was distraught, the players were spent… the commentator could only repeate “It’s god’s will” over and over again… all around  me, people were cursing… a guy right behind me alternated between “Fucking Torino”, “It can’t be true”, “ShitFuckCrap”, and “I can’t believe it” for the rest of the game, the recap, and the remainder of the evening… someone started sobbing in the background… the bartender stopped serving drinks and just stood there, shellshocked. There was a rush to the toilets; one after the other, the sad fans pissed out the remains of liters of Beck’s (Beer from Bremen!)… I wish I had my camera…

Someone had recently burst a bubble of mine by telling me that I didn’t look italian (Gasp!!!)… I thanked the gods for that… and laughed silently… The commentator had recovered and was going on and on about this being a once-in-a-lifetime situation, and something about the end of the world…

A replay of the lucky goal later on elicited a “This is football at its most brutal… a freefall from heaven into hell… insufferable pain… i’m going numb” from the self-same commentator, Fritz Von Thurn und Taxis…

The barkeeper was well into his fifth beer as we walked out the door.

I’ve been expecting this for a while. It’s happened often enough before that I’ve learned to live with it, to feed off of it, even, somehow, to enjoy it.

It’s been a struggle staying happy and cheerfull. It shouldn’t be that way. I’ve tried forcing myself, I’ve tried convincing myself, hell, I’ve even tried force-feeding it to others…. but enough. It was always hollow… it’s not right when you have to make an active effort to feel joy, satistfaction, relaxation, or passion. It’s just wrong.

Four issues have been weighing me down. Emotional, Carreer-related, Academic and Familial. Between yesterday and today, all four came to confrontations. I did a stupid work-thing out of sheer frustration. I was able to resolve that this morning…. that, at least, will be OK.

I’ve been waiting for my results, which I should have gotten a couple of weeks ago, to no avail. I called today, and it seems that the only thing missing is the grade from the secondary examiner. Don’t know him, don’t know how important his grade is, don’t know anything…. but at least I’m relieved… there was no snag with the first examiner.

Again, I’ve decided to risk it and just talk over my familial issues…. what’s the worst that could happen?

Here’s the thing, I believe in communication. Which brings me to the fourth issue that required some sort of resolution. Strangely, it’s the one issue that really holds me down, and keeps me unhappy. In ways, it’s the least important, but to me, it has occupied center-stage, if only because It’s the one area that can make me feel like I felt yesterday. It’s the only one that can squeeze my heart and not let go until I almost faint. Still, clarifying things up, by itself, is beneficial, regardless of the outcome.

Apparently, she had no idea I was attracted to her. This is where I started laughing. Wholeheartedly… for the first time in a while. I have the unfortunate gift of being able to see through people… and right there and then, I was shocked that I’d even liked her in the first place.

Apparently, the other night didn’t happen… I was laughing even harder…. Suddenly i’m seeing things? Suddenly, everyone around me is seeing things?

I’m secure enough to tell someone I like them, I’m secure enough to put myself out there…. I hate people trying to out-smart or confuse me. I’m good at that game, and that’s why I don’t play it. I can run loops around her as well as anyone else…

I won’t deny it. It hurt. That was to be expected. You like someone for a while, and then you realise it’s not going to happen… it’s not the greatest of feelings. I am able to get over that. But for that person, who you admired, to play dumb and try to put one past you…

Anyway, I told her not to flatter herself, indirectly, and that it was my issue to deal with… she was just a face. Lie. Whatever.

And then, I couldn’t smile anymore. It was another stab in that self-same spot. It aggravated old injuries, and left me weak and faint. I sometimes doubt that I can take these wounds… they’ll never heal, I think… and that’s what keeps me from being truly happy or at ease.

In ways, I’m still a fucking teenager.

I got wasted last night. I’ve rarely ever get drunk. I can keep my alcohol down. I never get drunk just from alcohol.

Here’s yesterday’s recipe:

Stab. Stab. Stab.

Realise that happiness is a far-off idea, that you’re in the wrong place, at the wrong time.

One carnation-instant-bitch.

9 large shots of MGFJ (My Good Friend Jack) downed within 30 minutes or so.

I vomited. I vomited in the bathroom. I vomited in the subway. I vomited on the street. I still am vomiting, on the inside. The vomit covers my wound, again, in something resembling a healing… but I know that wound is just waiting to be ripped open again. I know that I will probably let number four do the exact same thing. And that it will hurt just as much. And that I will blog it. I know all of that. And I vomit inside, at the knowledge.

I’m still vomiting. But that’s ok. I’ve learned to rise from this pain… it motivates me… I have my doubts, and my fears, and they grow every day… I’m not happy, I’m not at ease, I’m not enjoying my life. That’s also ok. I can take it, and more. I’ve dealt with this crap, and I can deal with it again… Each time, I’ll come out from the fight looking fresh and victorious. Each fight drives another nail into my coffin.

I told a friend last night “I’m not drunk… I’m disgusted”. I was drunk, but the only reason I got drunk was the disgust. Sadly, that’s how it’s always been.

M… you’re the best, thanks for being there yesterday.

On the subway ride home, a few days ago, I happened to glance at the wagon behind mine, and was pleasantly stunned to see it exclusively occupied by hotties. Two of them were keeping themselves busy by looking at me, whispering to each other, and giggling. I had half a mind to go over, but thought better of it. With my luck, they’d all be going to some lesbian convention across town… or more probably, they’d all be in committed relationships.

That’s been the case more often than not recently. Speaking of which… I’ve been interested in this one girl for a while. She’s got a boyfriend, but had shown definite interest in me as well. It was, as far as I knew, and according to people we both know, mutual. I’d enjoyed the innocent flirting, and the constant contact with her, since she’s an awesome girl.

Then, a few days ago, as well, we happened to go drinking with a few friends. From the onset, she was taking the initiative. I, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure. I enjoyed the closeness the intimacy, and the soft touches,  but the fucked up gentleman inside me kept chewing my brains out. A cool new friend who was there kept trying to convince me to go for it. In retrospect, she had a point. We left together, and I walked her to her station. I regretted it from the beginning, but on the other hand, I wasn’t completely unsatisfied.

It didn’t help that she also looked ridiculously gorgeous.

She’d turned it on, and she’d went for me. It wasn’t a complete loss.

Was I pleased? Yes.
Was something going to come out of it? I didn’t know. I still don’t know.
Was I satisfied? Well, tie me up, spank me silly, and call me Judy.
Do I regret it still? Yup.

Deliver us from temptation, they say? It gently ripped me apart from inside, and yet I resisted. Is that all you got? I say. Bring it on, papa bear.

That was then, we’ve seen each other again since. I took her aside, and told her (stating the obvious) that I really liked her. I didn’t expect anything in return, but I wanted to let her know.

The end result, I still don’t know. She didn’t move away, she didn’t mention her boyfriend, she just looked at me with those big, gorgeous brown eyes. Some happiness, some sadness, some signs of understanding. Nothing new.

It felt good getting it off my chest, it felt good knowing that once again, I’d played by my own rules, and not followed society’s stupid norms.

I’ll probably just wait and see.

That makes three. Third time’s a charm, they say… no?

You feel insulted? Go live in the friggin’ desert.

Hello! Welcome to the 21st century.

Things have changed a lot in the past millenium. Nowadays, there are moving pictures that let you “watch” real things happening in real places all over the world (it’s round, by the way). You can write a letter and send it across that self-same world in a split second. You like porn? it’s all there….

Here’s a trick you may not know. Your eyes… they close. Your mind… it makes decisions. You no likey porn? you no go to www.sex.com.

Pretty simple, innit?

So, what’s the big deal? A few caricatures… right… let’s blow up the world, that’s an appropriate reaction.

Let me tell you a story… A Danish author was writing a book about the Prophet and founder of Islam, Mohammed. He complained that no one would illustrate his book. A big Danish newspaper challenged anyone to make those illustrations and promised to publish them. That happened on September 30th.

One young Imam felt insulted. Instead of doing what normal people would do, SUE those involved, he tried to ignite the masses. The Danish muslims weren’t completely infuriated as (they seem to have mastered those two aforementioned tricks)… so the Imam took the caricatures, added a few that were not part of the story, but that would definitely incite anger (the prophet as a pig, the prophet as a dog); very blunt caricatures that would easily light the cummulative fuse of the muslim world… and toured the muslim capitals, showing these photos and building up anger….

wham… bam… burn the embassies! Acting like terrorists ought to show the world that you’re not…. That makes sense.

Down with Europe. Ignorant fools. Death to this and that… What a prosperous industry. We produce banners, t-shirts, molotov cocktails… Give us a name, any name, and you can have your “death to …” within the hour. Burn yourself, it’s all for a good cause. Blow yourself up, that’ll send a message.

Welcome to the 21st century. We discuss our problems, we try to meet on middle ground, we try to resolve conflict by dealing with its root. You see the everyone and everything as your enemy, you see violence as the only way, you blow yourselves up.

Welcome to the 21st century. The struggle of our day is not one between the east and the west. It’s a struggle between ignorance and knowledge. You’ve chosen your side.

Extra (photos from the Mohammed Image Archive): These are the original drawings

These are the three drawings that that liar added to incite the ignorant masses.

This sums up a major part of the issue… lack of perspective (from Filibuster Cartoons):

I injured myself in drama group yesterday. I haven’t been hurt in ages, but yesterday, while “acting”, I managed to twist my thumb, cut open my upper lip, and bump my nose. All whithin two minutes.
Ok, let me rewind. We start out every rehearsal with some “acting exercises”. Occasionally, these include games. It was during one of those games, with me chasing a girl that I slipped and slammed my face on the side of a chair. The group oooh’d and aaah’d and asked me if I was ok. I said yeah and continued chasing, and caught the girl. It was her turn to run after me, again, I slip, and manage to put a hand out there to save my face. Bam. Twisted thumb. I get up again, finish the game and get back in formation. I actually have a very high pain threshold, and that was doubled due to a little machismo act I was put on for someone’s benefit.

Talk about putting your everything into the part. Yeah!

I guess a week of next t no sleep at all (more on that stuff soon) could be held responsible as well.

Anyway, all this taught me was that I’ve got to be more active again. My pain tolerance is still as high as ever, but the days of playing three hours of gruesome football on the beach, hitting, slamming, tackling, grinding it out against people twice your weight, and returning home all bruised are long gone.

Those days marked my mid-to-late spring, when the ski season would be fading, and the sea would be still a bit too cold for swimming. I miss those violent, bloody, days.

In other news, I’m a confused little boy. There’s a friggin’ babelfish in my head, but instead of automatically translating Venus lingo into Earth-speak (or Mars-speak, in keeping with the cheese), it’s gnawing at the insides, swallowing those few remaining brain cells that overnights and my good friend Jack haven’t dealt with. C’est la vie, eh?

—–chat transcript—–
br.1:Can I ask you one more favor?
Me: sure bro… what’s up?
br.1:Tell br.2 to be a bit more picky about his choice of porn site I’m getting tons of viruses and spyware each week
Me:….
br.1:That horny bastard.
Me: You know I’m blogging this, right?
—–chat transcript—–

YESTERDAY
me: ” ”
J: ” Oh, how about we spend saturday together? That should be fun. We could make food, watch the film at your place, and then meet up with your friends for clubbing…”
me: “… mmmhm…”

TODAY
J: “I’m sorry, I reconsidered, and I don’t think it’s such a good idea for us to do that… I don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate it.”
me: ” ”

I don’t get it. Did I miss something there, somewhere? “mmhm”. That’s all I said! Sadly, pathetically, hilarious.

Remember the roommate search? We went in a different direction, choosing one that I didn’t find attractive … after a bad experience involving me, a former roommate, her ex-husband and twelve dancing elves, that was the better way to go…

I met a girl, the old me would have been wary, would have played it safe, tested the water, bla bla… the new me gave her some cheesy line, took her phone number and invited her to a party…

Been on a self-exploration trip recently, realised, once and for all, that I must change… didn’t know that I’d made that decision, but apparently I have… or, it could have been that I was just pissed off because of something (something the world isn’t ready to know about) and reacted this way…

Or am I just horny?

The girl was ok, but then she started playing games. That pissed me off. So I hit on her friend. She became immediately interested again. I asked her friend out. So she asked me out. Then she stood me up the next day. Never been stood up before, but it wasn’t really painful. Just strange. Who does this crap?

Her friend was nicer. It was an enjoyable (albeit very innocent) date.

They both have boyfriends, I couldn’t care less. This is a day-time soap in the making… I can’t wait to see the next installment.

She’s playing games. I hate games. I hate beating around the bush, I hate these so-called rules that you have to play by, otherwise you’re too eager, too cool, etc.

I guess I should have warned her not to play games. I should have told her that I’m a straight-shooter when it comes to that stuff. I don’t wait the required two days before calling. I’m also not a fan of people who do.

The fact that she’s hot, and interested, and very playful, sort of counter-balances this, but, the clock is ticking. My interest is waning by the minute. 7.6.7.4.7.3.6.9.6.4…

I will wait a little longer, just in case I’m mistaken. Just a little longer.
Her loss.

***update: Not that you really care, but, since I don’t really care either, so I called. Apparently, she had no credit to call. Being a foreigner, and not stupid, I could believe that, on the other hand…

She just might get lucky still.

I’ve seen gay couples that just match. You immediately realize that they were made for each other somehow. I’ve seen gay people kiss more passionately than I thought possible. On the other hand, I’ve never seen god. Now, explain this to me, who do religious people - who worship invisible things, and believe in invisible places - think they are, claiming that homosexuality is abnormal?

One side believes in an invisible force that controls everything, is attention seeking, and sets ridiculous rules that one could only accept centuries or millennia ago, and that, for no particular reasons, apparently toys with, teases and punishes humanity.

The other side, you run across as you go about your life. Real people who live, struggle, work, laugh and cry. But, who happen to think that they fit in better with a partner of the same sex.

Call me Thomas, but I’d rather believe what my eyes see.

A-propos God, I still don’t understand this… if god is all knowing, why did he createSatann, knowing that the dark lord would eventually betray him? Why didn’t he create us perfect? Why did he taunt us with that evil apple, and are we to understand that we are all the result of an incestuous relationship betweenCainn and eve (and possibly any of his siblings…) Or maybe he slept with apes? That would make Darwin smile, I guess, his theory proven, somehow. Incest, or evolution, which is it?

On the subject of homosexuality, I DO have a few qualms with them. A) They’re too loud. You see, I don’t walk in parades proclaiming that I’m straight and proud, they should cut that out. If it’s a normal thing to be, it needs no parades, protests and movements. Normal means you don’t need to make an issue out of it, if you do, it means you just want everyone else to recognize something (that you yourself aren’t so sure of) as normal. Also, I’m totally anti gay marriage. Marriage is a religious thing, and religions have the absolute right to decide who they allow to marry. They should have the same rights as church-married couples, but call it something else. Call it Symbiosis. That’s a cool word, deep, and not attached to this or that religion.

Something just doesn’t add up.

(From QueerArab)

A sad, inspiring and heartwarming clip about a Palestinian hip hop band. Apparently, this is a trailer for a soon-to-be-released documentary … Must see.

View the trailer here(warning: ~12 mb).

A friend just came back from a vacation in Spain, a few months earlier, he was in Krakow… I met up with him, and a friend of his, she had recently returned from Edinburgh where she worked for a couple of months. She’s going to university till June, then working in Dublin for 2-3 months… After that, it’s off to a vineyard in France to work with dozens of other young people during the harvesting season… She’s then taking a year off of university, trekking across asia, doing a couple of months’ internship in Australia, then spending 5 weeks in Venezuela, two weeks backpacking across south and central America, 2 weeks in the US and then back to Berlin. They’re both, naturally, supporting their lifestyles themselves. They work, and do things the cheapest way… they make ends meet. They’ll probably finish university in a couple of years, by the time they’re 28-29.

Three years younger, I worry about careers, financial stability, and my future, and am still looking to take the chance. I have seen fewer places, experienced fewer cultures, and had way less fun along the way.

Something is wrong. I’m beginning to believe that my way was not the right way. Is it the culture? The mentality? The difference in responsibilities that we have?

It’s seeming more and more nonsensical to graduate and start work at 23. To join the rat race, to breath in 5 weeks of free air a year till I retire, and to sweat like a pig for the man.

Speaking of pigs. I went out with some friends yesterday. On the way, one of them decided to grab a bite at a ‘Lebanese’ restaurant. We walk in, and naturally, some persian or khaliji music is playing in the background… Pictures and drawings adorn the place… I point out the pictures that are of Lebanon (cedars, baalbeck, sidon, beriut, etc…) saying “this is Lebanon”, and then the drawings of camels and palm trees and deserts and what not, saying “this is not”… Some guy, sitting in a corner, starts mumbling things to his friend, and he calls me a zionist, and a pig. I ignore it. Again. Again. I was really considering doing something stupid, but thankfully my friends were there. Not that they held me back, or anything, just having them their made me rethink things, I didn’t want to be another one of those trash foreigners that fight other foreigners… I was better than that. So, I ignore him and move on.

Later that night, tens of people adoringly looking up to a great DJ, girls salivating as they gyrated to the music…

The point? Too many points… it’s more like a line. The end effect is…

Women… pffft. Speaking of which… Debo mejorar mi español

Things are working out very well for me these days… I’m on a lucky streak. Academically, work is progressing slowly, but surely, and the authorities are satisfied with my thesis so far, personally, I’ve settled down into a very cool, very enjoyable pace… setbacks are a thing of the (near) past… I was in H. the other day, met up with professors and cleared out a lot of issues, I now have a clear timeplan to follow for the coming few months, then I hooked up with some friends who happened to be in the city, and we caught a political rally for Angela Merkel, live. It’s sad. She doesn’t come through as human, no matter how hard she tries. That said, I’m not THAT much against a stronger regime in Germany, with clear anti-terrorist policies and so on. I fainted from laughter when they played Angie at the end. That is SO NOT A RIGHT SONG FOR HER!

On the homefront, we’re looking for another roommate to move in early october. I’m playing a very active role in the selection process. My criteria: female, 20-23, good looking, stylish, fun, interesting, preferably foreign (doesn’t know many people here). I am taking pictures of the applicants, they think it’s for us to remember them… and it is, sort of… the hotness factor plays a big role, I say.

The weird thing is that as the number of applicants piled up, I noticed that I was sweet-talking them, flirting with them, etc… I was looking, as my other roommates happily pointed out, for a wife, and not a roommate. Then I took another picture. I’ve already made my decision, actually… a hot little number from Barcelona. Not bad… not bad at all. she doesn’t know what she’s getting herself into
I’m a pig. Oink oink.

Punk Rocker Chick called. I recall distinctly NOT having given my number away. The first moment was awkward, with my mind not registering the name being announced. After that, it was idle, light chit-chat for a few minutes. No particular objective from the phone call, but that didn’t make it any less ominous. PRC is a fun gal, even when sober.

What is to come?
Where did she get my number from?