My diary

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Refreshing the page

I don’t have much to write about recently… School started, exams passed, blah blah blah. Time to fold the Christmas tree (eventually? heh) and maybe even start thinking of midterms. *shudders

Anyway, found a glitter application thanks to a friend from facebook, and even though glitter is such pretentious decoration, some gif images are pretty cool.

Did I ever mention I like red?

Aha

ha

ha

haha.

Marinated chicken

To my best knowledge

For chicken:
1 pound chicken fillet
4 eggs
bread crumbs
salt
pepper
vegetable oil
For the pickle mix:
1 tablespoon salt
4 teaspoons sugar
1 litre water (4 cups)
3/4 cup vinegar (for mild 5%, for stronger 10%)
3 medium onions
5 peppercorns
2 bay leaves
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
1/2 teaspoon sweet paprika
2 teaspoons tomato concentrate

Slice chicken fillets into pieces (the thinner the better chicken will fall apart later). Rub in salt and pepper. Cover the slices in bread crumbs, egg, and again bread crumbs. Fry in the pan using vegetable oil.
Boil water with salt, sugar, peppercorns, sliced up onions and bay leaves. Then add pepper, paprika, vinegar and concentrate. When the water is still warm, pour into a dish with prepared earlier chicken fillets. Cover the dish tightly (may use a large jar and the lid) and wait for 24 hrs before trying the chicken!
You can follow exactly same procedure for marinated fish fillets!

Dear mom

Thanks for the present and sweets. Even though it was dark bitter chocolate.

I was so happy at first but then read your letter. You know, the way of life you embrace have always annoyed me since I started growing up and seeing life around me. I do not understand why the heck you decided to stay with the crazy man, even though you had a sister you could count on till divorce was settled and till you would start getting some monetary support. WHYYYYYYYY. Why didn’t you think of me and what I went through. Perhaps you can handle that. Do you think I could? Have you any idea how the situation broke me inside as a female and a person? Do you know what complexes I have because of all that? No? I did not tell you, right? But I am telling you NOW. And I am telling you that I am not the same person as you are. There’s nothing on earth that would upset me that come from your mouth aside that one sentence I have kept on hearing for years now: there are other women in similar situations and you just have to endure. HELL NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Do you understand???????? I WILL NOT SUBJECT MY DAUGHTER TO HELL LIKE YOU SUBJECTED ME BECAUSE THAT’S THE WAY YOU ARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I will fight! I will break him like he broke me and my daughter’s childhood!  I will not forgive and hope he burns in Hell!!!!!!!!!!! Christian Hell! Muslim Hell! Whatever he believes in or not!

You had a chance to break out of the cycle and have a relatively quiet life when I was 15 or 16. You could have saved yourself and me. You did not. Then endure. Be my guest.

If you excuse me, I have n exam tomorrow and cant even study now till I cry my eyes out.

First day of Spring semester.

and one major WTF.

It is 9am and I got an email from the professor saying “if you logged in…” – holy mother of Gahan! Why would anyone logged in within first hour of the semester? Wooooooooooooooooooooow.

Anyway. I’m upset because I just found out that there’s a textbook required for that course but it wasn’t in the bookstore last week. Maybe it isn’t there today either. There are a couple of quirks that annoy me about USA; one, students can’t pay off their tuition monthly but have to apply for CREDIT. Shoot, and what if your credit is denied? Huh? It’s a public university, you’re not supposed to discriminate, right? Duh. Two, when I go to the bookstore there is no way for me to find out whether the courses I take have books required. They say, if it isn’t on the shelf, there’s no textbook. Well… there was nothing on the shelf, but now the prof says there’s a book required!  I seriously doubt that bookstore has no database… what’s so difficult in making it available and searchable for the ladies that sit there and do nothing at the desk? Pffffffffff.

A tiny Sunday vent

Morning.

8.30 am on Sunday morning, got up an hour ago even though I went to bed at 1am. Yes, went, coz it’s hard to fall asleep when you have an idiot cooking himself dinner at that hour. EXTRA dinner, coz I made one in the afternoon. Well… If someone takes a nap from 4pm till 10pm, then they won’t go sleep like they should one hour later, right? So Mister got hungry and woke whole house up.

So I made breakfast. First one since Tuesday morning because I decided then that Mister prefers sausage dripping in oil over a tiny “biscuit” at MacDonalds than my eggs… I got cursed back then so, why bother, right? And today I just want a quiet day, I won’t let him provoke me into another fight he he would, I guess he wants to get rid of me by killing me, as all our fights recently end in serious threats to my life, including a bump on my head and a swing of iron cast frying pan I can’t lift with one hand. But no Mister, I’m not crazy, go out and swing at the world instead.

So, the eggs were frying, with sausage, parmesan cheese, tomato, with tortillas warm, coffee percolating… He was lying on the sofa, awake, but with his eyes covered with his hand. You know, like someone who is blinded by the sun. He was pretending he was sleeping.  He always does it. Not sure which is the reason but there are two possibilities (that he stated at some point, it’s not my imagination – but I don;t know which one is the truth) – one, he doesn’t want to see me coz I’m too ugly; two, high class people do not look at the servants, cooks, waiters, waitresses.

I got pissed though. That blatant ‘I don’t give a fuck’ shown by the eye covering made me place the plate with food far away on the kitchen counter… and coffee warmed up in the microwave. No, Mister, TODAY no breakfast in bed while you cover your eyes not to see me. TODAY you had to MOVE YOUR ASS UP from sofa and walk the 4 yeards to the kitchen.

At least I did not come close enough to him to see whether he had his pee bowl by sofa on the floor. Disgusting how one can become lazy to the point the bathroom is too far to get up in the morning to pee.

Authors worth reading

That list has been enriched by one name. Cherise Sinclair. Since I don’t care about female protagonists’ looks, it isn’t about who she writes for. Hers can be plump or not. However, I can’t resist the games her masters play. It’s been two books now and both has been one huge giggle all the way through. Master of the mountains was very educational and actually had a plot plus a conflict. The Shadowland Club  series is starting nicely. Same story. I’m hoping for more giggle.

Do I even need to add it was the EVIL kind of giggle?

Oh dear :O

A geek dating site. My goodness. I feel so tempted, I might register one day, probably with shaking hand.

Star Trek, zeros and ones… – all this talk can be included in my life? Really? Actual half-human relationship? (half-human=geek)

mhmmm http://www.gk2gk.com/

Disappointed

I’ve been searching for a good (romance) book to read for over a month – possibly the longest period of time ever since I got interested. Oh boy, it’s never been that difficult. These days all I come across is some mediocre or plain disgusting stuff (not even going into m/m, believe me), and once in a while a “quickie” I would give 5-6/10. Is there anyone out there who CAN write? My latest discovery, Evangeline Anderson, is so-so. Yes, she can write pretty well, but 50% of her books is not my favorite genre.

Anyway, having spent considerable amount of time going through the mediocre stuff, last night I have reached a conclusion. Most of contemporary romance writers should have never have their books published. Call me crazy, but a lot of fanfic writers who write to their drawer have much better plots, making more sense, nice language, more sense, DID I MENTION MAKE MORE SENSE? Yeah, writing romance books, even if it’s one of those “taboo” or hardcore ones, require the author to actually create a story line that makes sense and situations the heroines find themselves in need to be and/or sound authentic. Please, if I read about a lady in contemporary times going to a CASTLE to meet her MASTERS in the DUNGEON, can I have some more plot to it than just, “get undressed, if not, we’ll whip you” and “oh, you look stunning”? Is that so much to ask?

I think a lot of fanfic writers should come out of the closet, so to speak. Find an editor (most possible the hardest part) and get yourself published, change the name of the protagonist so it isn’t so obvious and voila. I’m tired of useless and not interesting books.

“Merry” Christmas

During this rather sleepless night I realized something. Since I was 13 almost every night was a nightmarish experience for me. I mean, I have slept all those nights, but how? I’ve developed a really light kind of sleep: a tissue falls off the table and it wakes me up. Basically anything will. I wake up in the middle of the night, and… listen… listen to the noises behind the wall. Someone opens a cupboard, takes sth out, I try to figure out what was grabbed…. Someone walks from one room to another I think WHY… If it’s not TV noise, I will try to recognize words that are muttered… I had a break of about 4 years when I did not have to scrutinize every whisper, between 2001 and late 2004. But then it came back, and the only difference was WHOSE muttered words I had to scrutinize.

In 2001 I ran away from daily/nightly terrors of my father who on occasions took a knife on my mom, was starting fights in the middle of the night: hence the drawers opening and angry mutters I was listening for when I was a teen and young adult. For 16 years I lived in hell.

And in 2004, I started listening for same things, but coming from someone else.  This time I am the direct victim, I’m my mom. I lock my and my daughter’s bedroom every night, it is more or less safe during working week if HE has a job. But then weekends come, and the most dreaded holidays at the end of the year: that’s 2 whole weeks of blackmail, terror and pain of seeing my daughter suffer emotionally.  At least I care what she goes through, she knows I do too… my mom never let me know if she even thought about me.

I hope I’ll live to see Christmas 2010. And I hope it’ll be OUR first Christmas of freedom.

Thursday

Well, it’s been one of those days… A day that goes on and has not much sense and the end of it is usually miserable.

I got up, sent the kid to school, downloaded some of my current “oldies” series and took a short nap with the kitten. She developed that idea when I go to lie down, she comes on and lies down right next to me and sleeps. It’s actually nice because she sometimes keeps on sleeping even if I get up after a while. And surprise, she does not even need any piece of clothing, just my blanket

Anyway. I took care of finding the tree ornaments in the garage and brought them to the patio. When Isa came home we put up some, maybe slightly more than half, but it got too cold for me so we called it quits for the evening. More tomorrow.

Of course, I STILL did not make that one phone call…. that email… and that materials search. But I did fill out the application paper for after school care and visited notary public, so all I need now is a pediatrician’s signature and I hope to do that tomorrow. THAT part (application, notary public) took a lot of time, I don’t understand why simple after school care needs 10+ pages to fill in. I had less paper work when I was signing Isa up to school

We had a little scuffle… I mean Isa and myself. I refused watching ABC Family movies night (I can’t watch Jack Frost. I swear. Saw it while flying over the ocean to Poland. Don’t want it anymore) so she got a little upset. Eventually she came back and we watched a little Will & Grace. She showed me her story she wrote in school and I got somewhat scared. The story is about an “adult girl” who smashed fairies and felt so sorry she decided to help them. So she… found some brains and bones to fix the fairies. Uhm. And teh fairies came back to life, of course.

*shudders*

where did I go wrong?

And most of the day on forum was Martin talk. How much more unpleasant can it get? I felt nauseous. I had no plans to but I think some girls were just asking for it. So I got mean. It is the truth, but mean to them, whatever. I am not turning Dave Gahan forum into Depeche Mode forum. Even though everyone that could post something, and help, do that either rarely or at all while posting away on Facebook. I’m getting used to the thought I get called like a dog, a bitch, to do teh dirty job while everyone else have their fun life.

That’s more or less it. The other day I wrote a little bit of my coffee thingy, not much, just a few sentences… For some reason I can’t get into the mood. It’s either the day and those places I got to go to, calls to make, emails to write that I don’t want to so much, or it’s the night time when I am tired and have no stimulation at all.  I guess I miss those days when some I called friends lied to me every other sentence making me happy. Discovering the truth was painful but now when the pain is gone the shroud hangs over my head and prevents me from feeling better.

Their lies were something I needed to function as  a whole. Perhaps.