Venting

I've been thinking about guys and relationships a lot lately. Seeing as almost every person I know is married with/without kids or in a relationship. It is not that unusual when you're going on 36, but then why does it feel so unattainable for me? It's just a feeling I have. It's telling me to just get used to the idea of pure singleness in the future and forever. Like the years to come don't hold anything good in that particular department store for me. I met the man of my dreams, yes, he is, 5,5 years ago. He is married though, and it will never happen. I used to call him Bob in this blog, and here I am at it again. Why can't my sad sad heart, soul, body and mind stop seeing, smelling, sensing and hearing him wherever I go? Why can't it just be over? I haven't even seen the damn guy in 4 years. I feel so fucking pathetic. But then I know that when it comes to love, no one is pathetic. We can't really help what the heart wants. Lord knows I've tried my best to push him and his lovely ways put of my body, but for some odd, and totally unexplainable reason, he sticks like bad chewing gum on a sweater. I have had better months and weeks when he wasn't AS apparent, but in the last two months he has resurfaced completely. One night I woke up five times during the night, and every time I had dreamt about him. When the morning came I was exhausted and just lied in bed silently crying because of the pain it gives me to "have to see him" in my dreams, when all I really want to do is to forget... but I can't forget, well, duh, obviously. And that bugs me. It is like a scene from the lovely film "Four wedding and a funeral", when Fiona says something similar to this to Charlie; It's you Charles, it's always been you, and for as long as I like you no one else stands a chance". Yeah, there it is. That is the awful truth. It does not help when people say things like; Oh you'll meet that special one when you least expect it, you'll get over him, you just have to stop thinking about him, he is married, get over it, he is too old for you anyways, he's a granddad for God's sake, I am sure you'll meet someone, there's someone out there for you, just be patient... Like I don't know this? I am not stupid, nor am I ignorant. But I know this; due to him I now know what true, strong and lasting love feel like inside. And I also know that love isn't something that magically goes away with the flick of a switch. I wish it did, but that it not how it works. And it is scary shit I'm telling you. It frightens me every day when I wake up, and his face is the first I see, as his face is all I won't get. Is frightens me that when I think, and dream, about possible future boyfriends all I see is him, because how will I find someone else when he so obviously holds everything inside me still!? Trust me, I have had other boyfriends, and I have always been able to shift them away eventually, so it's not like I haven't tried and succeeded before. I do know how to do it, but this time nothing seems to work. I think he has put a spell on me, just so that I will stay tortured for the remains of my life. *lol*

Nowadays I feel old tired and weary. I hope it will go away. I am not positive. I want to be though.

I know you are probably all sick of Bob, but what can I say? This is me, this is how I feel, and this is me sharing it. 

Some words I threw together: 

In there

In the weeping grass, that’s where I will be
In the eyes of a child, that’s where you will find me
Forever swept into your heart
In the songs you listen to, that’s where I will be
In the hidden secrets, that’s where you will find me
Perpetually entwined between the words they speak
The things they convey in sad lines of ink
In the shouting silence of
words not written, words not spoken, words not thought
That’s where I will be

Here I go again, with nothing to write about

Just a little update I guess. In the 6 weeks since my last post I've lost another 10 kilos (22 lbs), and so in total 42,5 kilos and 93,5 lbs. I am going to do something I've never done before. I am going to show the horrible truth of my "fattest" face. I warn you; I do look shockingly horrible. Honestly I look like a pig, because where are my eyes!?! *chills* Plus how fucking miserable do I look?! So I will show you three pictures of myself. The two first ones are from my 30th year in 2004. I weighed 6 kilos less than when I peaked at an even higher level of "fatness" in 2009. Strangely enough I don't have any photos of when I was at my fattest ever, like I said, in 2009. Oh I wonder why! I am, needless to say, still obese, but at least I am much better. I guess even you can see the difference. Yes, the age has crept upon me as well, but hey, it's a long way from 30 to soon 36, so be nice! :-) The third one is of me two days ago. A very honest picture of me somehow, with my red skin under my eyebrows, with eczema in them. Yum! (not!) This is me on a typical day wearing no make-up except mascara from the day before...

I feel my life is a bit pre-occupied by this whole journey. Eating still takes up a lot of my days. How weird does that sound? I am sure I do have many things to say and to write about, it's just that they don't surface... So I am blank. I hope it will get better.

I hope also that this post finds you all well and dandy!

Much love xxx <3>

Single white female seeking... Yes wha!?

In the last days I've been having a "Sex and the city" marathon. I borrowed the whole series on DVD from my sister in law. Somehow this is the first time I really get this series. Before, it was just an OK series, but now I actually adore it. It is a great show about true and lasting friendship between four quite different women, who despite their differences stick it out with each other. They're always trying their best at understanding each other. They love, fight, hate and argue, but make up. Needless to say, it is also about love, relationships and sex too. Which of course brought thoughts regarding my own apparent singleness. Do I like it or do I hate it? I think both. Sometimes I wish I had someone by my side to support me and stuff. And let's not forget; someone to have sex with! Man!! In that department single really sucks. Especially since I am not like the girls form "Sex and the city" who can have one night stands and more "loose/short-lived encounters". But then in the next minute I embrace the freedom that it is being single. No man clinging to the computer or watching 6 hours of sports every day, which makes me having to fight for some attention. Now I can do what I want, whenever I want. So why the fuck don't I do something exciting? I do the same things day in and day out. Eat, grocery shop, write, listen to music, sleep and spend some time with friends. Could it be less risky? I know I limit myself thoroughly because of the weight, but for goodness sake, this must stop! I will probably need some time. Another thing Sex and the city has brought me is the lust for a fag (cigarette). I quit cold turkey 6 years ago, and I haven't had one tiny taste of it since then, except the odd inhalation of smoke when someone standing close to me is smoking... I have to keep it that way, or I will definitely start for real again. I became addicted to smoke immediately when I started. I went from 0 to 10 in day. Smart move!

I have been insanely restless today. Like within myself, not outwards, the way I wrote about in my last post. I think things are changing, and it is scary. I am changing. My wants and hopes for the future changes. And, in all fairness, it can be a lot to deal with. I am not dark or anything, just a tad confused and weird.

Well, that's all. Just a tiny post. The snow is finally gone, and I have lost 32,5 kilos. 

Much love xxx

Winter, please no more!!

So it's been a while, hasn't it?! I am a bad blogger. I have been thinking about giving it up all together. I feel I don't have anything to say really. It is just all about me, and my not so exciting life. There's nothing fun, extraordinary or anything like that happening here. Everything is like it has "always" been, the only change is that I seemed to have lost my ability to be funny in any sort of way. Sad isn't it?! Anywhoooo... Over two months since my last entry, and since I am writing this I guess I made it through the surgery of January 5th. There were a complications during surgery due to my small intestine. It wasn't stretchable or movable at all. They operated for 3,5 hours, and it usually takes just 1 hour. The surgeon was deadly worried, and kept calling the ward all night from his home to hear how I was doing. Luckily I was all right. My throat has NEVER been drier mind you. It was drier than the Sahara desert, I am telling you. It was difficult to breathe! It was the worst thing about it. NO liquid for over two days for me, because I had to wait to do x-rays. Due to the complications. When I finally could drink I nearly cried. I can assure you water is my chosen drink these days. I LOVE it. Never underestimate what pain can do to change you... Some of you might want to hear if I have lost weight. Yes, I have. In total 30 kilos. ( 66,1 lbs) Which includes the tome after surgery and the diet I went on prior to the surgery. Since I came home, which is 9 weeks tomorrow, the weight have shed at a very slow phase, I think. I have lost around 11 kilos in those 9 weeks. Not a whole lot when I constantly read about post gastric bypass patients who lose 47 kilos in 12 weeks. I have felt very sad about it at times, plus stressed and frustrated too. Now though, I have decided to not give a fuck. Apparently this is the phase my body wants to lose weight, and so I have accepted it. I do everything I should, and I weigh and write down all food I eat. I follow the program 100 %, and so there isn't anything else I can do really. I take one kilo at a time, and set tiny goals. 200 grams more lost and I have met the next one. Yay.

I am extremely restless at the moment. Not within the flat and so, but outwards, like out of this country. I am constantly thinking about emigrating to another country. I know I can use my education as a social worker in other countries too, it is after all a Bachelor's degree. I just hate snow, and we've had snow now for three months straight. Tons of it, and with freezing temperatures too. I want a more mild climate, where an outdoorsy lifestyle is easier. Where people spend more time outside, socialising and such things, like on a normal basis. The best thing would be if I met someone who shared my dreams of emigrating. It would be easier with someone else there. I am not scared of doing things alone, but with making such a huge life decision it would be cool to have someone secure to turn to if things feel bad from time to time. You know what I mean!? Maybe I should go out of my way to find a friend/boy/girlfriend who wants to move. Yes. I have one friend who emigrated to the UK, London, like 4-5 years ago, and she does not regret. (from what I have understood at least) I have two countries I am considering, one English speaking and one Spanish... It certainly would be easier with the English speaking one, as I am somewhat fluent.

Here's some pictures of the hated snow. Some days made it impossible to drive! Argh!

hi you all

Happy new Year to all my lovely friends!! Hope 2010 will be a wonderful year in all aspects of our lives. I've had a good Christmas, yet a busy last few months. It has all winded down now though, and I am at a very balanced place in my life. Yay!! On Tuesday week I am, hopefully, having my gastric bypass. I haven't been able to lose as much as they wanted me to, even though I have followed the diet for 5 weeks. So they might decide they can't operate before I've lost more... Let us hope that isn't the case. Anyway; please keep me in your prayers and thoughts for Tuesday, for my surgery to go well and that I will have no problems or complications. It is after all quite big surgery, you know messing around with the stomach pouch and small intestines. I will keep you posted, when I can... 

Yikes, this is it, no way back now. 

Lots of love and hope - Monsoon :-) 

Otrivin Ville

In all my life I think I've owned around two pairs of high heeled shoes. I also never wore a dress after I was ten. If we don't count the Norwegian national costume, which is a dress. But I wore that the last time when I was 17, so... I actually always felt like a man in drag if I were to wear a dress or something, and that started rather early for me. When we were kids and playing house and weddings and stuff, I was always the man. This does not mean that I have any wish to be a man, because I don't! I have never ever felt really psyched about hair, fashion, shoes and clothes and typically female things. The only thing I took a remote interest in was make-up, because after all, I am a bit vain when it comes to my face. My footwear has been a disaster all my life. My idea of a good shoe has always been Dr Martens and Adidas runners. Yeah, that's reeeallly feminine. In 2001 I bought my first pair of high heeled shoes. Why? Because I was going to a wedding in Poland. I wore them again in 2006 in another wedding. That's it. So, you can imagine my shock when I for the first time in my 35 year old life fell for a pair of high heeled shoes I saw in an add on amazon.co.uk. I actually love them. I want them. I need them, and yet, I can't have them. Way expensive. But they are the coolest pair of shoes ever. I don't know what it is, but man I would feel like a goddess with those on my feet, and a nice ensemble to go with it. They're from "French connection" and I saw them at Javari.co.uk. If I am honest, I have to admit that my feminine side has indeed been emerging little by little over the last 5 years, and it has peaked in the last year. Yet, I am still quite masculine in my ways, but my feelings towards a dress and such stuff don't repulse me as much as it used to, and I quite like that. I feel more like a real woman if you know what I mean.

In the last week I've been ill. I don't know whether it is the swine flu or not, but just in case I've mostly stayed at home all alone. God how boring! Especially when you MUST stay in. More people have died in Norway of the swine flu than in all the other Scandinavian countries together, so... I have three of the risks that potentially can be fatal for me if I catch it. I have low lung function, asthma and I am obese. I am going to get the vaccine. I have come to that conclusion. Even though I am extremely unsure and sceptic of the whole thing. There's so much crap in those vaccines, that could potentially be dangerous down the line. Then on the other hand, where would we be hadn't it been for the vaccines against the illnesses and plagues that killed people in heaps in the olden times. The thing is that I hardly ever get sick like that, like with flu or even a cold. I don't think I've had a real cold in 10 years. It sucks being ill though. Every time I breathe in, my throat, chest and even stomach it feels like, makes whining, squealing and horrible sounds, and it is a lot harder than usual to breathe. However, I am still here, and so I shan't complain. 

I was at the hospital on Wednesday. I had an appointment to talk to the surgeon who is going to operate me. The news weren't great. My hope of having surgery in 2009 was killed there and then. I must lose 14 kilos (around 30 lbs) before January, or else no surgery then. He actually wanted to wait until Feb/March. I started to cry. I don't know what to do if that be the case. I am unable to work, though not unwilling, and I will have no money. Help! Being single and not having anyone to rely on right now, both emotionally and economically (as harsh as that latter one might sound) is quite rough for me. Friends are of course great, but they're not here. They're not here for those moments when you just need someone desperately. You know what I mean, don't you!? Moreover, most of my friends live far away, even in other countries. I will prevail though, and I am trying to see the positive in this. At least I will have less to lose after surgery, and the operation itself will be less risky and fatal this way. 

I am still dreaming about living in Spain. In fact, I spend quite some time fantasising about it. Even talking with myself.  Yeah, I am a bit on the odd side of life sometimes. Also I am contemplating on all the travelling I will be doing once I am ready for it again. I can't wait!! There are so many places, and fantastic people, I want to visit.  The first place I will go to is probably Ireland though. Every time I see pictures, news etc from Dublin and Ireland, I get tears in my eyes. It is my second home. One of "my kids", Cathal, sent me a friend request on facebook on Friday. I thought it was so cool, as he after all is 17. I didn't think that an old au-pair, that he hasn't seen in 8 years, would be interesting. He and I were really close though when I lived there. He was my "cutieboy", and he was a great, caring and gorgeous human being. Here we are, the two of us. I was 20 he was just two. This was only three

months in, in my first year there. The other pictures are of him at 3 year old. I love the two kids so much, still.

Splenda

So many things have been going on inside of me lately. And in that, a process of actually totally and utterly coming to terms with who I am, and also what I am. Now, that might sound weird, but it isn’t. Not to me. It’s been heaven. It’s been spiritual and touching. It is just all good. I have cried many tears of release, tears of joy, tears of realisation, tears of epiphanies etc. I have understood dreams I had as a child, and found out what they meant, and actually just how significant they were. Already then, trying to tell me that I should never shift away from that spiritual side of myself, but I did. I swayed a thousand miles from it, but it was always a part of me nevertheless. I was scared of being judged. Yes, I was. Frightened because I know not of one person close to me, except my beloved mother, who actually believes in the same stuff I do. Some might believe in parts of it all, but not the whole shebang. I can’t believe just how alternative and occult I actually am. (And just to clarify; I am not a Satanist or something!) I believe in God, but I believe in many other things too. There are many things unexplainable “in” this world really. I don’t feel all ready to tell all about it yet. But I just wanted to share that I’ve been going through a lot lately. I have found the true spiritual me, and it makes me feel incredibly balanced. And I like balance, because it isn’t borderline, like over the top happy or really dark, if you know what I mean. I am at ease, and I think that is a really good place to be when I think about the surgery I am going to go through, plus also the change in eating I have to embark on after that. Seriously; liquid eating for 3 whole weeks, and then 3 weeks of mashed food afterwards. *lol* Actually, I have lost 10 kilos in the last two months or so. I am still losing, and I am proud over it.

I love TV-programmes about interior, and exterior, designs. To see all the beauty a house, a flat, a barn, a castle can convey, via the meticulous work of those building it, is just fantastic. One of the shows is “Grand designs”. I have watched numerous shows of it. I also like the presenter; Kevin McCloud. I think he is really good, and in addition, and this is a bonus; he is hot. I feel quite smitten by him really. He has that special glimpse in his eyes. And let's not forget; he is born in the 50s. Gosh, it seems all the “good ones” are born in the 50s, in my opinion that is. But also the year 1960 stand out. For instance Bono is born that year.  Here's Kevin. Yummy. I am glad a single woman has something drool-worthy to look at. What would life be without it!?

Since I last wrote my dear friend of 32 years, Eva and hubby had a baby; Ernst. He was born on October 14^th and is just beautiful! It is this boy I am going to be a godparent to. So proud and honoured by that! They live a good drive from here, but I hope I will see them and little Ernst very soon. Can't wait! 

History studying is hard, but also nice. I have passed all tests and papers so far, and so let us hope it continues that way! Also worth mentioning is the fact that I started on what I am hoping will develop into a book, a novel. It is harsh reality, tough, tragic, about a 16 year old girl and her promiscuous ways looking for something unknown and safe. Living a picture perfect life during the day, and then not so much at night...

I hope you are all doing well

Love Monsoon

Fast times at Vig****** Ungdomsskule/Junior High

Growing up in the 70s, 80s, and 90s was good. It was really good actually. I am forever grateful I was born when I was born, and that I am not a teen now. *chills* My home place was such a safe haven. We were SO sheltered from “all things evil”. I remember when I was 16... We were leaving “Junior High” and in that the same class we had been in for nine years. We were naïve, so gullible, clean, pure and good. I would just DIE if I heard about anyone who had had sex at that stage. To us they were like the cheapest things ever. *lol* Even those who smoked or drank alcohol were considered losers and bordering on criminals, for most of us. In my class, I think actually no one did these things. I must admit this though; our particular class was known for its quite angelic kids, and teachers “fought” to be able to teach us. Those were the days. Now, of course there were “rebels” here too, but they were not in my class, and there weren't many of them.

I must share a couple of incidents for sure. When I was in 8th grade (14-15 years) my friend Karin and I were playing ping pong in a recess, and our teacher Harald. He was the typical pietistic and stupid-kind type. Then as we were playing, a student from 7th grade walked past us and said to the teacher; “God, it is certainly flipping hot today eh Harald, it would have been fine with a cold cock in your ass”. Yeah, that is definitely the thing to say. Did that ever gobsmack the teacher! Poor guy! Karin and I just smiled awkwardly and carried on playing, all whilst I had a tiny giggle building up inside. Heck I might have been pure, but I was still me. And I never shun sway from some garbage humour. ;-) We had a similar incident the year before. During the long break we were allowed to play tapes on the speaker system that went out to all the rooms at school. One day a boy from 8th grade put on a tape that had some very questionable lyrics, SO not suited for school. These were the lyrics we all heard throughout; “I want cock, screamed Marie the old hooker, I want cock in that old pussy of mine. Now this song was in fact from an album called “under the elastics on knickers”, and had other songs like ”Wank me wearing white gloves”, “Fuck-Polka”, and the cute “Come fuck with me”. All in Norwegian of course, and if I might add; the titles make more sense, in the way that is possible, in Norwegian. Yeah, so I guess we weren’t all growing halos, or was that just the repressed sexuality talking back then?! We will never know.

So yes, the pupils at our Junior High School had their fast times too. I must admit that even I had my moments of “teacher bashing”. *feeling mortified* Names shall not be mentioned, except he stank of urine, sweat, general body odour and foul mouth stank too. He had yellow pimples the size of grapes all over his face (NOT exaggerating the size...) We literally ran if he came close to us. Once I actually held the door to prevent him from coming out. He was so little, thin and puny that I was of course much stronger than him. (I’ve always had an in-built strength, and used to be able to win over all the boys in the class in arm wrestling) Poor guy. One of my friends in my class couldn't get herself to open her lunch when he was still in the room, in fear of her food becoming poisoned from his heinous smells. His teeth appeared as one long yellow lane with no definition or end between the teeth. I guess that whole concept of dental hygiene had somehow failed him. Failed were also his relationships with soap and deodorant. Plus if you stood beside him and looked into his ears all you could see for miles were layer upon layer of ear wax. Was he perhaps saving it for a rainy day? Who the heck knows. I am just telling you; sweet cookie he reeked. Even his car spoke tragedy. Picture a tiny low rectangular/oddly shaped car, a la Mr Bean's, that looked like it was built of tin foil and wood, and then painted with the most gruesome brown colour ever imagined. It wasn't blank as cars are when they have varnish, no it looked all dry like a black board. It squeaked if you touched it.

And to top it off he had bad hearing and used hearing aid. How wrong was it to place him amongst 13 year old children, with raging hormones and no concern for tomorrows!? He probably had a hard time. Though, two years later, as we were finished Junior High, and were on our way into the big world of “high school”, he and I made up. I said I was sorry for my behaviour and we hugged it out. I am glad we did. He had cleaned himself up too at this stage, and didn't stink no more. I also want to stress that the description of him is not exaggerated. Even my mum almost fainted when she met him at parent-teacher meeting.

So, this was a trip down memory lane. I have worked as a mad hatter on yet another history paper today. All day. So now I am wrecked and going to bed. Well, actually it is the day after, as it is past midnight... So long.

Love