My Little Nest

Okay, F-List. I just got off the phone with my dear Aunt Branwen--who called to tell me that when I'm abroad next week...(yay boats!) she'll be giving me my Yule present early, which would be great...except...

She's giving me a pair of gold bonding rings. Poesy ones at that! Okay, first of all, I never wear gold (which she knows) it just doesn't happen.

For those of you who don't know, bonding rings used to be used as wedding rings or to symbolise year-long handfastings. Nowadays some Fam. Trad. families still use them as promise rings, wedding bands, engagement rings, etc.

So...what is the point of giving me bonding rings when I don't have a girlfriend, or a boyfriend, or even that many friends? The logic, I ask you...

So, I (politely) suggested this to Aunt Branwen, who told me that, and I quote, "True love comes when you least expect it"

Uh huh...thank you, Yoda.

And then she suggested I needed to stop pining after Giomannach. Yeah, Hullo? Not pining. I am in no way pining for him. It was almost five years ago. Geez. Make me some weepy Lady of Shallot why don'tcha.

So, getting given bonding rings with no romantic entanglements on the horizon--completely pointless or is Aunt Branwen right?

I really should be going to bed right now.

I really should not be scheming up ways to make the car's trunk as creepy as possible for the church's parking lot trick-or-treating.
(Skeleton gets to come out and play...the poor thing hadn't been unpacked since Ship.)

I really should be rehearsing Habanera.

I really should not be applying to another RP.

I really should stop screaming at people who piss me off in Gaelic. (But what's the fun in that?)

I really should not be looking at Merchantes corsets up for auction... (But they're pretty! And shiny!)

I really should not be spamming with a meme stolen from axelia

( 6 Weird Things )

I am beyond upset at this point. I have to leave in about 12 minutes, and I can't find my monkey! My stuffed purple monkey that Giomannach (may he rest in peace) gave me!

That monkey has gone with me to ever major hospital stay since I got him and I need my Zarathustra!

...Give me a break, I was reading Nietzche when Giomannach gave him to me.

I need my monkey, damn it!

Oh and I got my learner's permit yesterday!

Warning: Disturbing subject matter within--Proceed w/ caution.


I'm going home today and I'm v. glad. I need to get away from here--to think. I saw the headshrinker yesterday--he agrees with Elaine,he thinks I may be bipolar and wants me to see the psychiatrist and get medication. I can't take seratonin inhibitors and the idea of lithium is not a pleasant one. I still want to be me at the end of the day, you know?

Natasha's been put on constant bedrest by the midwife and it's driving both of them nutters. Poor Natasha, she despises staying still, let alone in bed. Reporter girls need to be out doing things, and running a million miles a minute. Aunt Stella's been sticking really close to her--she knows what yhis is like, she was put on bedrest w/ Dee and w/ the last set of twins.

I saw Jekyll and Hyde last night, and while it wasn't what I expected it was something I needed. It helped me to understand things that are going on. Life is fluid, there are connections that shouldn't be made that are (Mansfield/Jack the Ripper) and sometimes people you know are the next victims (Kate Eddowes).

Giomannach would be so mad at me right n ow. Knowing him, he'd bop me upside the head and say that I need to get ahold of myself, but Giomannach is dead and there are things he never understood. Life is a battlefield and emotion is weakness. The power of intimidation is a necessity to control a situation, let alone one's destiny. Sweet Eris, though, I miss him, even if he was an impulsive, self-righteous git.

I went through the Tunnel of Oppression last night, and it was moving. When you entered they yelled slurs at you and I was surprised--Scribe called me a whore, but it's all a role. Cole had a monologue about 'did it matter' in the GLBT section and it made me realise again that the peoplpe you're closest to are the betrayals that injure the most. The ED one was a skinny dude refusing food from his friends, who then pressured him to eat. I was correcting it in my head. Most people do that, skip meals, there's a whole other Underworld filled with funhouse mirrors that draws people in and refuses to let them go. It's waking up in the morning and knowing that you're still excess, you still feel the imposition of your weight on space. You're entirely too much, and nothing does any good because unlike that ideal of you that hisses at you at every turn you need! After all, needing anything makes that thing your weakness. Before you actually went into the tunnel, they had posters and things to look at--the one on EDs asked if you skipped at least 1 meal a day and weighed yourself at least once. That was funny. On Ana sites it's 3 times a day, nude, because clothes add weight.

I slipped up last night, had a bit of a lapse, but I was stressed, upset, and my sodding brain wouldn't shut up. I fel like I couldn't escape and so I cut. It didn't bleed much, but it didn't have to, this while there's SI info hanging in the loos and 1 March bein SI Awareness Day. All that, and I lapsed. C'est la vie, I suppose.

Mailkum hucoremilut kithic mealla en aingeal sealgair; resiremen kolimester cauirlerm maisetrern serestre miceura, maliem foreif gael mayean ossiciouf, cayauste reinca beliamerean--Faite Giommanach.

I am happy. Now, please don't look to shocked. I came to a realisation today and that is the fact that I actually have friends.

Yes, that's right, friends.

Not close cousins or aquantinces who don't want to get on my bad side, or even people who are nice to me just because they want to be close to the heiress of the Russell line, actual friends. This is an odd situation and I don't know quite how to handle it. I don't think I've ever really had friends, or at least not my own age. People twice my age, yes, ickle kids, yes, but not roughly around my age.

Even Ecstasy, whom I considered the closest thing I had to a friend, may she rest in peace, admitted to me after copious amounts of liquor that she was terrified of me. Now, however, I have people who like me (I think) hang out with me, and are just plain nice to me because of my personality, flawed as it is. This is new, slightly frightening and alo wicked.

I've never been able to say tht before. Most of my so-called friends have either stabbed me in the back, left me once I joined Council, or continue to be pleasant while talking shite behind my back. I'm trying to think of exceptions to this rule--Butterfly's my friend, but I know I scare her sometimes, she's told me so. And Giomannach...

Well, I doubt anyone could say Giomannach and I ever really *got along.* We started out hating each other, and that moved on to some semblance of a relationship, but even that started becaudse I chained the prat to a *chair* because he was going to go off and get himself killed. Sure he annoyed me teasingly, and used to deliberately bait me, but he also didn't like ym outlook on things, too dark for him, and I've never been quite sure whether or not he ever really, truly lovd me, but that's quite another tale.

I think it may be because of the different enviroment of college. All the other friends I've *tried* to make have been in either:
A. Christian School
B. Hereditary families
Let's guess at how that worked out, shall we? *crickts*
Yeah...

So, after the S.A.L.E meeting I went out with a bunch of people to B&A, as has become usual after the meetings. Missa, June and I were discussing going to a gay bar in Harrisburg that has an under-21 section. T jumped in and we were trying to work out when we could all go together.I noticed I had my elbows on the table, my napkin still rolled around my unused silver, and I was slouching in my seat. I realised that my behaviour around these people changed completely. Finishing school and propr etiquette go out the window. I was shocked, bloody floored when I found his out. Never, except with my immediate family had I ever been so relaxed, unworried about seeming a little too sarcastic, my sense of humour a little too dark.

I know I'm a bitch, that I have just a bit of the dark sinister to my character, but with the people from S.A.L.E, and June I don't have to put up false fronts. I can't help but wonder why this is so different, why I feel infinitely more free with them than most people. I'm not sure what to do now, but I think it'd be interesting to find out. You know, it used to be that the most important thing to me, after my family, *was* my reputation, was the fact that people were terrified of me, I always found it humourous when people would trip over their words in front of me or refuse to look me in the eyes. It was amusing. I also enjoyed it when people would fall over themselves to impress me or make me happy. It's just what it's always been for me. It was that way for Mum, it's still that way for Da and Granny, and for me as well.

I remember this one time when Jasper was hanging out with me when I was in a particularly bad mood, right after I had failed a test and he took my blood-flavoured lollypop. Let's just say word got around fast after that incident that one did not come between la belle ophidia regina and her blood-flavoured lollypops.

Understand, I'm not going to change, but somehow things like that seem less-important, more trivial than ever before and I'm unsure of how to deal with it. I suppose I just have to take it one day at a time.
After all, as it says on the Russell crest;
Che Sara Sara