the Miml : part one

The Men In My LifeFrom the young boy in Elementary who used to step on my feet to get my attention, to the latest interest.... So not all men, but there’s no need to be pedantic.First there was V. V for very bad kisser, not for vendetta.I am quite certain it was a combination of alcohol, house party happiness, and my no fail sexy red top that charmed him.It was quite flattering, really, as I had never had any guys pay real attention to me before. I was one of those slow starters, although I do think I made up for it!That was the days when I still wore glasses, hardly wore makeup, didn’t really think about guys... I was sure I was imagining the fact that he was flirting with me until he offered to give me a shoulder massage (an entirely innocent one!).The house party ended at around 6 or 7am, with one very drunk friend telling us he loved us, and V falling asleep beside me, holding my hand. It was very cute and sweet for the first five minutes, and then became dreadfully annoying as I got a cramp in my wrist. But he just wouldn’t let go. (What foreshadowing...)The next time we saw each other we chatted for ages and then randomly we were kissing. I had no clue what I was doing and tried to imitate him. After a short while I broke it off, embarrassed, and told him I had no idea what I was doing. He smiled and said I had done just fine.What a first kiss... outside of a bar in a quiet alleyway, with some of my friends nearby who saw it all. Not very romantic, but I was still excited about it.Anyway, typical summer fling: kissing, holding hands, taking walks, snogging, etc.Except for one thing. He was beginning to plan our future. To plan my return from London on completion of my degree, to plan us visiting each other, going on holidays... With mixed feelings, I left V behind for a month long holiday in Spain with my mother. Realizing how relieved and liberated I felt at being alone, there was only one thing I could do.Yes, I was a coward. I broke up with him by email. What’s worse, is I learned later on that he hadn’t had internet access and when I had texted him to tell him to check his email, and he made a mutual friend of ours check his email and read it aloud to him over the phone. Oops.I did meet up with him after I returned to Milan, before leaving for university.It was awkward.How do you tell a guy who keeps insisting that he doesn’t care if you have cheated on him, that that’s not why you want to break up with him? That it’s really him you don’t want?Poor V... as experienced as he pretended to be, I really was his first real girlfriend. Which is kind of sad, because I don’t even consider it a real relationship.I felt guilty about it all until I saw him again at New Years and he slobbered all over me. Yuck. Is 6 months not enough to get over a 3 week “relationship”?I felt a little friendly towards him until a couple months later I found out he had told our mutual friends that we had had sex (I am quite certain to the contrary).Ah well. It was my first try. I was bound to get it all wrong!

Relationships, Love, And Such Stuff

It’s weird how relationships can shape your life.I’m single again, after nearly six months of being with my first proper boyfriend.Half of me is relieved (he’s moving to Leeds so I would have had to deal with the whole long distance thing); half of me is confused, sad, and empty; a further quarter of me is a little angry; and another third of me doesn’t know how to count.[All those halves and quarters and thirds, reminiscent of an American I met who tried to convince me that she wasn’t American, but half Irish, a quarter Polish, a third Scottish, and two fifths Indian.]Are Nine Inch Nails right? Is love not enough? Or was it even love? How do we ever know if what we are feeling is love? How will we ever know if love does exist? This sounds like a bunch of teenage angst. But hey, I’m still a teenager, and will be for at least another year.What I wanted most was to be happy, and I guess I am. But I also feel disillusioned.Love is really all we have to give to people, and sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. Because in the end, people can’t help but be selfish. Think about it, even when you are in a relationship, you think you are being selfless by doing things that make your partner happy, but really you’re doing it because making them happy makes you happy. Couldn’t that be considered selfish? At least it’s not a bad kind of selfish because no one is left feeling bad, but still.Surely love should surpass selfishness. So I guess what we felt for each other wasn’t love. That doesn’t mean I can’t be sad about it though. I must be sending of rebound vibes! I have been in London for less than a week and three random guys have given me their numbers. It’s kind of funny, kind of sweet, ego-boosting, but at the same time it makes me feel like a shop.Maybe I should write “open” on my forehead. It would be funny. It wouldn’t really go with my look though.End of another chapter in a girl’s life. La la la.

Roman Catholicism And God And Stuff

Everyone has a different answer on who God is and how he acts. It's like a rat race, everyone trying to convince you that their way is the right way. Surely if there was a God, any path to him would be the right way.Technically, I am a Roman Catholic, having been baptized and done first communion and all that stuff. My whole family is RC, besides my dad who pretends he is Hindu but really doesn't seem to relate to any religion at all.I seem to have become like a lot of Italians however (probably due to me living there for over 13 years). I'm not an ardent believer, I go to church on Easter Sunday and for Midnight Mass and that's about it.It's just, I have a thing against the church itself as an institution. It seems biased. Why is it that women can only be nuns, whilst men can be priests, cardinals, and even popes? That's not fair. God created both of us and by now it should be accepted that women and men are equal. Yet women are still regarded as evil temptresses... after all, didn't Christ die to purge us from our sins? For goodness' sake give women a break!And then the whole confession thing. I hate going to confession. It seems like a way to pay for heaven. You know, go to the priest, act sorry, get a bill of a couple Hail Marys and Our Fathers, and there you go, you're clean as a newborn baby. I am sure many people go to confession without feeling the least bit of regret for their actions. I don't want to talk to the priest. He's a stranger. I don't want to tell him my business. If I do something wrong, I feel regret within myself and I attempt to resolve the situation. I think that's a lot more effective than saying a couple prayers.I just feel that if there is a god, he or she would be within us. We wouldn't need some institution like the Church. You can find forgiveness for your actions within yourself. I am at peace with myself and don't feel the need to go to Church and pray away damnation. It seems a futile excercise.That's another thing I disagree with--the idea of hell. Real hell is your life gone wrong. I don't like the fact that priests and the church keep threatening us to keep us on their side.Also, God said to mankind "be fruitful and multiply." (I don't think he considered the possibility of overpopulation). He wanted us to live our lives. Why then should holy men be celibate? If we are all his children, all equally loved, surely priests would also be allowed to live normal lives, have families. After all they counsel vast numbers of people on how to deal with relationship and family problems--what would they know of these matters, anyway?As a matter of fact, women appear to be able to control their libidos much more than men. Shouldn't that make them better candidates for the positions of power? (A female pope; how shocked people would be. For me the position appears entirely too political.)Continuing on the same vein, why should we need a priest (during confession) to be our messenger, so-to-speak, to God? Surely we should all be able to commune to God individually. If he loves us all equally, why are priests treated as special? To be honest, if God is our teacher and we are his children, religious men appear to be the nerds of the class trying to suck up to the teacher. I understand that many people find comfort in going to the Church, in speaking to priests, and if that makes them happy then they should do it. I understand some priests want to be celibate (however unnatural that seems to me), want to dedicate their lives to God. It's just for me, something doesn't seem quite right.Then again, sometimes I think too much.

Why English Is So Hard

It was my birthday yesterday, so I'm going to be lazy and just post a great poem..."Why English is so hard" We'll begin with a box; the plural is boxes But the plural of ox is oxen, and not oxes Then, one fowl is goose, but two are called geese. Yet the plural of moose should never be meese. You may find a long mouse or a whole field of mice, Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice. If the plural of man is always men, Why shouldn't the plural of pan be pen? The cow in the plural may be cows or kine, But the plural of vow is vows, not vine. I speak of a foot, and you show me your feet, But I give you a boot; would a pair be called beet? If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth, Why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth? If the singular is this and the plural is these, Shouldn't the plural of kiss then be kese? Then, one should be that, three may be those But the plural of hat would never be hose. We speak of brother and also of brethren, But though we say mother, we never say metheren. The masculine pronouns are he, his and him, But, imagine the feminin she, shis and shim! So, our English, I think you all agree, Is the trickiest language you ever did see! -Anonymous

A Hungry Ghost

I found an old journal entry of mine, just one loose sheet of paper, from elementary, when my friends ditched me and I was alone for a while. It really struck me, for some reason, especially the last bit (but you have to read it all for the mood to be set). Maybe because I was roughly ten years old when I wrote this? Maybe because I remember the loneliness, and reading this reminded me of how hard I'd tried to ignore it all. Maybe because I see myself in it. Here it is, quoted ad verbum (except for some corrections) :"Oh, well I had a very painful time when I had trouble with my friends, I came home crying. They would exclude me, insult me, and do anything to hurt me.Once they said I had a fever and everyone avoided me for two weeks. Other times they ignored me. They would whisper when I passed and somehow made my best friend dump me. I didn't care, though my two only friends left as well.I enjoyed recess by myself. Then I made a new friend (I always make new friends), and it's Kate. I was told to avoid this group but they were friendly. I told them about my problems, and felt a lot better.The old group still envies me and the way I can easily make new friends. Now I avoid them. Another thing, I've made friends all my life. So I know how to approach a new person. Just be nice, invite them to play or eat with you. I know how they feel, all alone, for I've experienced it, sitting there by yourself like a hungry ghost."

What Do You Want?

"Who buys a minute’s mirth to wail a week?Or sells eternity to get a toy?For one sweet grape who will the vine destroy?" -William ShakespeareI love that quote. There are people who are ready to do anything for five minutes of happiness or fame or attention or whatever they want. What do you want?Ask someone that question. And be careful how you ask it. What do you want?What do you want?What do you want?What do you want?Money. Fame. Sex. Love. Success. Friends. Pain. Joy. Children. Acceptance. Time.So many things, so many people. The answers can differ depending on the question.What would you give for your heart's desire? Is anything really worth giving up for something you don't need?

The Edge of Reason

"Was a bit like Christmas, or more like when somebody dies and with funeral and all the fuss nothing is normal so people do not notice the loss because they are so distracted. It is when life goes back to what it was without the person that the trouble starts. Like now for example." (Bridget Jones, "The Edge of Reason" pg. 113)That fits perfect for how I feel, in a strange way. With all the panic of the move (yes, I moved house, and don't have inet at home at the moment, which explains my long inet absence) suddenly I find myself sitting in my new room (filled with boxes) and the panic of moving is over... and now's when the trouble starts.It's pretty hard to turn your head off... that's what guns are for.Life's just weird. Actually, people are. Yep...