Friday, March 10, 2006

Lioness Was Here

And this is why one should never devote it its own category

So, this sleep thingy? Apparently gone. I am torn btwn maybe gratitude and the feeling of ridiculousness that comes with thinking it may be insomnia when it's only 10 past midnight. The gratitude bit -


Look, I cannot write anymore. Seriously, I CANNOT WRITE ANYMORE. I seem to remeber how to, vaguely, but it's mostly gone. As we can see from the dearth of posts. This is exceedingly not good. Writing is like a mirror, and if a Johnny falls in the forest and there's no one to type it, does the Johnny make a bloody sound? I cannot even muster enough energy for a fuck! these days. I know what I want to say, but the words keep not getting in my way. F!



I have just deleted another paragraph bcs, I think I should mention it, this stringing of sentences? Rotten.

Let's try the diagramatic approach, which works so well for school [btw, passed 12 out of 13 exams, which is astonishing in itself and especially so if you consider that we're talking abt me, so thus we learn that all one needs to do well is to have a massive exam overload, someday I'll post the schedule so we can all bond over that and a cuppa, no time to properly study for all of them, or even any of them, become ill right in the middle of it, and presto, you're done. The 13th exam was no great surprise, I wrote it on a Friday, the last exam bfr that had been on the previous day so I decided exam season was officialy over and went to bed w a book and circled random letters under the guise of answers w the usual result - for me, my colleagues often are quite lucky - that I failed it. I actually like that subject - anat. path. - so the thought that I will have to re-take it in Sept isn't vile at all.][And here's another bit of sageness, when no words are to be found on a particular subject, veer off in an absolutely unrelated direction and they will show up, if discombobulated.]

Diagramatic Approach Then

Insomnia = no sleep = loss of sanity = more loss of sanity = why the bloody hell was I born and why the bloody hell can everyone but me fall asleep and hallo, the sofas have started talking to me = maybe I'll just obsessively write posts bcs the amount of things I find to occupy myself with at 3/4/5/6 am is surprisingly small and if I have to read yet another book or two per night I absolutely will barf my brains all over myself ==== insomnia sucks rock majorly but by God is it inspirational, if often void of quality.

Remember how it is when your father borrows your car and returns it having forgotten to fully close a window in the middle of a much needed monsoon and the much needed rain finds its way into your car seats and the very expensive vet book lovingly forgotten on it, so that the next morning you find a partially rain-munched book w the pages all glued together in the most unflattering manner, but of course you cannot tell your father that he has just comdemned several beloved Woofies and Meows to a completely avoidable death bcs he is a darling really and is always buying stock and insurance in your name and trying to give you money and offering to take your car for some industrial hoovering, even though this last one could be construed as an insult were it not for the fact that when your father exits your car he in fact sports whiskers*? Do you? That is exactly how I feel these days.

I have tried replying to comments but when you open your own comment box and all your fingers can come up with is, STILL, Lioness Was Here, while your brain screeches NOOOOO, YOU KNOW WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY, GO ON, JUST GIVE IT ANOTHER TRY, THERE'S A GOOD GIRL, OH BUCK UP FOR FUCK'S SAKE, well, some of the magic is ruined. Also, if you've emailed me, see paragraph above. These are not happy times.

*The Bright Side

Some families have curses, others have cursetesis, which is the anthitesis of a curse, ours materialises in car parking, no matter how busy and impossible the area is we always find parking very near the place we need to go to. I mean, ALWAYS. People scoff in beginning, then they're aggravated as we invariably find the cosmically appointed parking place. A lesson in humility, they should all be this elegant.

The How The Hell Have I Missed This For So Long??
Have fallen hopelessly in love w Grey's Anatomy. And ADORE Christina, Sandra Oh-Oh indeed! What episode do you have now? (Didn't care much for The Constant Gardener though. Or at all. Yeah, yeah, see if I care. My Name Is Earl is great, as is House - as in Dr. House. And Veronica Mars DEFINITELY jumped the shark. A Port-Jackson one, my favourites, but there you go, jumping was done.)

The Unbelievable

I mentioned I wrote a paper for Bioethics abt schechitah, the ritual slaughtering of animals for kosher meat. One day, when I'm in the mood for a) some flaming; and b) revisiting of sad said subject, I will write a post abt it. Now, this was a subject that was divided into two, Bioethics and Deontology, so I wrote that individual essay and did a group presentation - loads of work, loads of fun, we did cartoons, got a miser 15/20 for it bcs blahblahblah, deontology is too serious for there to be any humour in it blahblahbla, anyway, bcs there were two teachers involved w different evaluation methods a Statistical Correction was applied to the grades (this is how you must think of it, capitalised, bcs it is that serious) with the result that some were given 2 extra points and 2 had 2 points taken out of their final grade. Guess now. Oh go on, I'm making it so easy! Yes, well, both works fell into the latter category, so we received a 15/20 when we in fact had a 17, and for my Bioethics essay, the one in which I seriously kicked buttock? I received an 18/20. Believe me, an 18 is the sort of grade that, should you accomplish it in my vet school, leads you to prostrate yourself on the ground and praise the holy scalpel. But. BUT. The teacher that gave us 15 told me, he actually told me this, that it was a shame that things turned out that way, next year it will be done differently but yes, shame, bcs my actual grade was 19.67. I repeat, boldified: 19.67. Do you know what this means?? I could have gotten a 20. Out of 20. In vet school. In a country where teachers so often tell us that a 20 is only for God. Me. Those of you who know abt jugulars feel free to avail yourselves to mine in the most goreish manner.

The Intermission
Cat, it's not enough that you flew down a 6th storey window and nearly killed me with fright, it's not enough that your lost leg has added a never bfr dreamt of
scatological dimension to our lives, or that you wake me up regularly at all hours of the night by jumping three-leggedly onto the bedstand and pawing out every movable object, inluding lamps, oh no, you need to add trying to devour every stupid plastic wrapper that crosses your determined path to your repertoire. Cat, you're a cat. Cats have furballs, it's one of your most endearing qualities. They will come out eventually, as you well know, on the freshly- cleaned rug, ocasionally on the duvet on special occasions. In the meantime, please do your best to not have your bowels surgically re-organised. Also, chewing the phone chord as I type these very words does not much benefit this relationship. Nor does aiming for your owner's testicles in general, though any man who decides to play with a cat while naked clearly has some learning to do, and those dangly bits, well Cat, I can see your point. And it's not like he has only one so he can afford to be generous.

The Seriousness

Have tackled translation job for the first time since exams ended. Or started, that works as well. The sheer dimension of the job has me squealing with joy, positively squealing with joy. Like this: hee-heeeeeeeeeeeeeee! HEE-HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!

The Maybe Cheating

I've been on holiday from school after a particularly gruesome 7 weeks of non-stop impending dementia and we all know what to do when on holiday from school, BUY BOOKS IN ENGLISH. So I went back a few days ago and got two more. And read them. And thought they were alright, but not quite a bit of alright. So I went back there and exchanged them for two new English books. Loverboy thinks this is cheating. Books were returned in pristine condition. I suffer from a book affliction, my bones ache and turn into dust when I cannot read. it's a medical thing really. I have not read, properly read, in over 7 weeks. I deserve the new books, they're mine. MINE! BOOKS! STAY OUT OF THIS! Cause enough for separation, I shouldn't wonder.

The Irony

Went to bed early. Yet, here I am, performing typing of sorts. Do you have insomnia again?, you migth ask. What, YOU THINK? Classes in 7 hours.

Here, please.


[Hey, wasn't that URLhysterical? Did you notice it? I KNOW!]


At 9/3/06 04:53, Blogger Lord Chimmy said...

It seems that the indomitable lioness has been replaced by a clever fox. What a brilliant post for someone who CANNOT WRITE ANYMORE. Honey, check my blog, and you'll see what happens when someone forgets how to write. I'm also short on the fuck! these days... I have few words if any at all.

And, I, too, suffer from mind-splitting insomnia. I think it is psychological, but I'm not willing to crack that egg. I don't get much accomplished when I'm awake, but I have managed to read a book or two. I have faith that eventually sleep will come...for me as well as for you. You know, when the universe settles down a bit, and everything balances out.

I came across a Zen saying the other day: It is useless to show a gold piece to a cat. And, apparently it is useless to show the "family jewels" to a cat as well. Wow, that is very metaphysical I know!

And, yes, the URL was hysterical. I wish I was that clever in my sleepless moments ;)

Take care of yourself L.

At 9/3/06 06:45, Blogger brooksba said...

I adore you. I'm sorry that you're having insomnia rear its ugly head again. Even with saying that you can't write, this is a brilliant post.

I miss you. I wish DM and I were planning a trip right about now. I am also proud of you, passing 12 of your 13 exams. Wow! Just, WOW! I've said it before, but Damn Good Job!

At 9/3/06 16:48, Blogger Ana said...

Oh no, insomnia is so not good. Hoping you (and I, though for a diferent reason) get some serious sleep soon.
Sill, I wish I could write like that when I'm sleep deprived... or even when I'm not.

At 9/3/06 18:37, Blogger Diana said...

So, what were the two new books? Are they an improvement? Hey, I'm just making conversation in a vain attempt to get the image of The Cat and The Dangly Bits out of my head.

At 9/3/06 22:05, Blogger JoeinVegas said...

Lioness Was Here. Oh, wait, she better be it's her place. Oh well, just ignore that guy in the corner.

And jpfhxwq for word verification, all squished together? So hard for us with poor eyes.

cklhkgdp? See, told you it was too hard.

At 10/3/06 00:49, Blogger Dale said...


that's all.

At 10/3/06 02:37, Blogger Nancy said...

Any man with the balls (hehehehehehhe) to play with a cat while naked? Girlie, you gots a keeper there. (Texan for: Well done!)

You write awfully well for someone who has forgotten how to write.


At 10/3/06 20:50, Blogger Serialangel said...

I was laughing all the way through your insomniac-crazed post. You sound darling. I've been trying to get back into reading (I mean I wouldn't have to read so much if I wasn't addicted) and I've been trying to improve my grades. Why doesn't no one understand that grade B is for boring? Congratulations on the godlike score on your test, you deserved it. Betty xx

At 11/3/06 01:52, Blogger Lorem ipsum said...

Wrong. You CAN write, and it's always lovely even if you don't think so.

yimkit - do you know what that means? Sounds Yiddish.

At 11/3/06 04:28, Blogger cat said...

I would offer you some of the sleeping pills I am not allowed to take anymore but then we wouldn't get these lovely posts now would we?

Sending you some sleep dust anyway.

At 12/3/06 16:20, Blogger Ed said...

J, an urgent note to let you know that someone seems to have hacked into your blog. Someone has written a post that brilliantly imitates your style, especially the bit about your father, and of course it can't be you because you can't write so I think you need to get in touch with Blogger and find out what happened.

At 12/3/06 21:30, Blogger CarpeDM said...

I am so irritated with Blogger right now. I left you a brilliant comment about your brilliant post and it is gone. I didn't find out until Beth told me that I hadn't left a comment yet. "What?!" I cried. "Damn you, Blogger!"

Okay, no, I didn't say that but I was thinking it.

Anyway, while I am sorry that you can't sleep, I laughed hysterically while reading this post. And am still trying to get the "dangly bits" image out of my mind.


Zldhyr. Is that Portuguese for Zephyr? Could be.

At 13/3/06 05:45, Blogger Stacey said...

I hope you were finally able to get some rest. There is a new insomnia drug I keep seeing advertised here in the States called Lunesta. It has been approved for long-term use. Have you tried something like this?

Hope you are deep in REM right now.

At 28/3/06 07:49, Blogger twisteddragonfly said...

First...You gotta love a girl who can work the word DISCOMBOBULATED into a sentence! Second...Writing is born of misery, J. (Or so I am told) You're never more lovely than when you say you are miserable. I don't think you could NOT write anymore if you tried. Well done!! Third...Would send the sleep fairy round to your place, but I haven't seen him myself for days. (As evidenced by the writing on my blog) Fourth...sending you hugs and, what the hell...a FUCK too! (As apparantly, I seem to rely on that word alot these days)


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