Freedom

Ah, so life goes on. The last couple of weeks have been a hurricane of happenings, really, but I do love a nice, strong wind. Makes me feel alive and all that clichéd crap.

People have been a major part of a lot of the changes that has taken place around me, lately. Whether it's been changes in their lifes or their impact on mine, interaction have been the headline of my life. At least for the last couple of weeks.

But what has happened, you may wonder. Or maybe you really don't care. But this is my blog, so I decide what I put in it. ^.^

There's been fighting, yelling, anger, laughter, tears, excitement, love and friendship going in all directions, often whirling about too fast for perception. I know I've been confused more then once.

Friendships have been challenged, a particular friend has returned, to my joy, new people have come around that I wish will stay, and people who hasn't been around much, have come back into closer proximity.

I wouldn't say everything is great, there's still someone I have a problem with, but I've come to a conclusion about it, to not let it bother me, because it's in this person's nature to behave the way they do. Just as it's in mine to object to it.

Freedom has been a very discussed subject since.. well, January, actually. Maybe I have a greater sense of freedom and a bigger perspective of my right to it, then others seem to think. But think about it for a minute. I've been raised under the phrase "freedom with responsibility". Meaning, as long as I was responsible enough to say where I went, with who, how long, I could pretty much do as I pleased. I never had a curfew, I didn't have specific times to do homework, I didn't have a bedtime, hell, dinner could be anywhere between 5 and 10!

When I was 13, I was left with the apartment and no parents around. No supervision. I could've hosted orgies if I wanted to, that was entirely up to me. I never really did anything like that, though. Cause it was freedom with responsibility. And I'm very focused on the responsibility part.

Question is, what responsibility does my freedom come with? When I was a kid, it was clear. Report to mom. She didn't need to know what I talked to my friends about, she just wanted the basics, where I was, in case something happened, who I was with, so she knew what to expect could happen, when I'd be home, so she knew when to be worried if I didn't show up. Very logical, need-to-know things.

And I think that's my guidelines today as well. Need-to-know. I'm a very private person, I don't think every detail of my life concerns everyone. Bits of information goes to certain people, other bits to other people. There's one person I can tell everything, and even he knows there's details not to be talked about, things that, if asked, I would tell. But it's not always necessary to actually ask, it leaves something for me to have for myself. And that's important to me, to have something to myself. Something that's only mine. I guess I'm actually possessive about my privatelife. If I feel like sharing something, I will on my own. But if I don't feel like it, pushing me will only anger me.

My freedom to share only as much as I'm willing to. As much as is necessary. I'm not obligated to share anything, in the first place, that's not a responsibility that comes with. My honesty is not a responsibility to others, it's a privilege. And you have to earn it.

Anger

Everyone reaches this point in their life. The moment in which they see their parents clearly for the first time. The moment their parents are no longer just a parent, but a person. And let's face it, you can't like everyone.

I'm definitely starting to see some sides of my mother I don't like. No, not starting to see them, I always knew they were there, but they were ignorable. I cannot stand the passive behavior anymore. Saying something to me, just to go completely silent 5 minutes later, because her boyfriend is attending the conversation. It is not okay.

If you say you're going to go with one plan, then fucking stick with your choice to all those who ask, or don't make it known at all! And it's always like this! We agree to do something, in this case a family trip up north that has to be on a certain date, because we have to rent a car awhile ahead. She forgets she has other plans on that particular date, and so of course we try to change it to make it work for everyone.

The boyfriend is apparently planning a trip to Jutland to visit some places I for one have been talking about, which is initially awesome. But he absolutely refuses to try and choose a time where we will be going on this trip, cause he wants it to be when the weather is nice. Well, okay, fine, as long as it doesn't interfere with the now moved family trip. Oh, but if it just happens to be the only time during his two week break with his son, of course we'll just skip out on our family thing, and go.

Um. No? (I couldn't even do that if I wanted, I have a cat I need to plan having watched, and I can't call up my grandparents and say "Oh, hey, we're skipping the family thing and heading to Jutland, I'll drop Alex off in half an hour, bye!") And mom doesn't say anything, even though we moved the damn event for her fucking sake. She is apparently content to let him speak for her and decide what she should or shouldn't do? Of course, if I had just asked her while we were alone, she would have said he doesn't have a say, she'll do what she wants. But I know from experience she would go with him when it came down to it. She always does. Which would be fine with me, if she would just fucking say that from the beginning.

It's like being fucking stabbed in the back by your own mother, when she continuously does the opposite of what she tells you.

However. I'm pissed beyond words for that reason, and another. The infuriating little jerk of a man she's with, behaves like a cavetroll every chance he gets. I'm sick and tired of him raising his voice to me, cause he isn't getting his way. And the huffing and puffing and pointing me in the face attitude simply makes me not want to deal with him. It's threatening behaviour, and I won't put up with that. And the fact that my mother once again went silent and mute and said nothing in my defence is unacceptable.

Right now, I just want to pack up my things and leave. To not be around her for a good solid couple of years. Or at least till she learns how to fucking follow through with what she says.

Can't be that fucking difficult.

First Rain, The Comes The Sun

Finally home! Civilization! ... Okay, this is going to be one of those days you look back upon and laugh. Even this moment, it's a little funny.

Today, I was visiting a very good friend of mine in his summerhouse, to celebrate his 20th birthday, along with his best friend, his mom and her boyfriend. The house was out in the middle of nowhere, and I've never been there before. I was going by train, and I'm no good with making sense of the local railroads' charts. They. Make. No. Sense.

I do my homework, though, trying to plan out the shift between the city-train to the local one, cause the local one only goes once every hour. First train takes 40 minutes, which is decent, considering it brings me a little more then halfway there. Awesome, so far so good. Then comes the figuring out which platform the correct local train leaves from. I ask a nice stewardess, and she points out the correct one.

Once there, I look up at the "next train will leave at" board. (I had planned it so I would be there 15 minutes before the train would leave.) It says 45 minutes.
... Somehow, my planning went wrong at some point or another, cause instead of leaving at half past 2, it leaves at 3. And I'm supposed to be at the other end of the damn line at 3. Great.

45 minutes of waiting (and reading, thank god I never leave the house without a book!) the train finally arrives. And then comes my first shock. You have to press stop if you're getting off the train at the next 6 or so stations! ... Say what? That's what you do on busses, not trains?! But okay, these country people have their little oddities, I can live with that. We start driving, and the only thing I see for the first I don't know how many miles, is forest. Forest is soon replaced by fields.

Now, I'm a city girl. Fields as far as I can see makes me feel very unsafe. The air was clean, and no building was more then 2 stories high. By the second stop, which, btw, translates to Cakeville, I was slowly panicking. It was about 100 feet of pavement, a barn and a stack of chopped wood. Oh. My. God. Where the fuck am I?!

I calm myself down, remind myself this trainride is supposed to take 30 minutes, I'll hit some kind of civilization then. It's okay.

Then we stop again. And there's a steam engine lokomotive outside my window. Behind that, I see a tractor, another barn, and a lot of forest. Next stop, more chopped wood and a building that looks like an old, run down church. Only 10 minutes left, calm down, you're not lost.

A lot more forest, and another couple of fields. A cow or two. The brakes on the very modern-looking train sounds like an elephant. My cellphone is for almost 10 full minutes beyond signal. A few haystacks later, I finally start seeing roads. Actual houses in stead of distant farms. I even see a gasstation. A CITY!

I was scared shitless I was going to be dropped off at an unknown endstation, no signal on my phone, forest in every direction. I would have just sat down and cried. Seriously.

I make it to the busstop after I get off the train, and only just have time to see it'll be almost 2 HOURS till the next bus. ......... I'm very privileged, living in the heart of the capital city. If you can look out on the street more then 10 minutes and not see a bus driving by, something is wrong. My friend, however calls me, and says his mom's bf will pick me up, cause they know the bus just left. YAY!

15 minutes later, I FINALLY get there. I left my house at 1, I was there about 3:30. I don't know if I'll EVER make the trip again, without a trustworthy timeplan for trains. Now, at least, I'm not scared of going through Cakeville.

The day passed pretty quickly. After eating cake and having cocoa, playing frisbee (Which I absolutely suck at, I threw it into a tree 4 times, and even managed to land it on the roof one time), and going through the whole gift ritual, we hung out in my friend's own house there. Which was pretty nice, actually, I get why he likes being there. Smells a bit too much of wood, and I don't think I'd get much sleep without the sound of cars on the street, but very nice none the less.

We had dinner, barbequeing and everything, and I actually really enjoyed talking to his mom. Amazingly entertaining woman. It seemed like she enjoyed finally really meeting me in more than passing, too :)

After dinner, we agreed on a going home time, since neither me or his friend (let's just call him B) was staying overnight. The trip home was both quicker and more pleasant, both because I wasn't alone all the way, and because B is really funny and easy to talk to. Those two guys really are alike XD

I nearly kissed the city train when we reached it. Something familiar and wellknown! And I know where it goes and what landscape it goes through! Safety!
I enjoyed the company, I gotta say that. I haven't met B that many times before, but I've always had a positive impression of him, and that was only confirmed tonight.

All in all, horrible trip there, great day once away from trains, and only good things to say from then to now.

Okay, I might make the trip again some other time :) Now I know how to get there ^.^

Judgement Day

HEAT! ... It's cold and rainy out, and I just got home. Dry clothes and a blanket really are your best friends at the end of rainy days.

I just got back from the movies. I was supposed to go with my mom and sister, but my sister didn't feel well and had to cancel. It happens. I'll probably visit her sometime next week, my schedule is pretty full the next couple of days.

Tomorrow I've agreed to travel all the way up to the northern end of the island. Sounds far, and I personally think it is, but 1½ hours by train and bus and who knows what, ain't that bad. People only celebrate their 20th birthday once in life, after all :) I'm most keen on going home again tomorrow night, if public transport allows it, since I have my grandmothers birthday on sunday, as well.

Then there's the dentist check-up monday morning. Way too early as usual. Planning on sleeping most of the afternoon after.

The movie was great, btw. Danish movie by one of, if not THE, most accomlished danish comedians, Anders Matthesen. It was better then I thought it would be. I knew it would be funny, but it actually had some really good points, too, about karma and how your choices affect the people around you. Very good movie.

And we ran into my brother, actually! He was there with his younger brother, since the internet was out due to the rain. Very very typical of them XD

I usually don't consider rain a bad thing, but it's been raining for 3 days straight, now. I went to the supermarket to pick some stuff up for Alex today, and they had buckets standing around in the store cause the roof was leaking! That's a first.

Oh, and Angel is happy ^.^ The Sims 3 on it's way! Getting it sometime next week ^.^

OH OH OH!! I finally remember what I originally wanted to write about! (Yes, everything previous to this has just been my brain going through everything, to figure out what it was I had forgotten.)

We (my mother and I) were at my grandparents' yesterday, and we had the funniest discussion ever! Well, at least I was amused. My grandmother is a lovely lady. A bit oldfashioned, and very set in her opinions. However, she's stubborn, unwilling to listen to what other people has to say, and thinks she knows everything because she watches the news and reads the newspaper. She also raises her voice when you try to make your own opinion known. If you try to tell her you've personally seen or experienced something to contradict something she's read, she says that's only one case out of many. Which is true, but is said in a way that lets you know she believes it's the ONLY case out of many.

That's some background you'd need to know, to see how very amusing this discussion was to me. My mother was telling my grandparents about this man who sometimes visits the bar. Neither of us like him. He's from Thailand, and every time someone disagrees with him over something, he claims they just don't like him cause he's from Thailand. Actually, people just think he's a nitpicking crybaby.

So this guy decided to tell a woman there, that her sexual orientation is wrong. He pretty much puts the whole lesbian society down, and then gets upset because she calls him an idiot. Who can blame her, it's none of his business.

My grandmother agrees with us, that he's a jerk for judging her way of living, and we start talking about a certain gay club in Copenhagen, and if it's still open. My grandmother then says that she doesn't really care what kind of sexual orientation people have, as long as she doesn't have to be around, and this is her words, translated by me, the ones who overdo it. I can't help it, I just have to ask what she means. She mentions gay women who's very masculine, and gay men who are very feminine and that she can't stand that kind of behaviour.

This is the first time I start laughing in the discussion. I ask her if she realizes she's judging as much as the guy who insulted the woman, from before. She claims she's not.

Am I totally wrong here? I mean, is it up to her to say when people are "overly" masculine or feminine? That's judging them. That is her judgement of when a man is too feminine or a woman is too masculine. If the person behaving that way doesn't think or feel they're overdoing it, then they're not. It doesn't become fact because you have an opinion about it, and if they're overdoing it, then that's your opinion. But that also means that you have considered and judged their behavior, according to your own standards.

My grandmother was absolutely blind to that fact. She thought it "wasn't normal" to act more like the opposite sex, then your own. And I broke down laughing at this (even my grandfather had to laugh, cause he totally got my point), cause again, she's talking from her point of view, her view on what "normal" is. Ergo, she judges them, according to her standards.

"No I'm not!"

Silly little grandmother :) I don't really care what my grandmother thinks about masculinity, femininity or gay or straight. She can think whatever she wants, I'm not going to interfere with that, I know she'd be polite and sweet as always if I ever brought someone over who challenged her beliefs and views on things. I just wanted to point out that she was being just as judgemental, as the man she considered a jerk for judging others.

Chew on that ^.^ Angel over and out.

To swing or not to swing

Okay, so I have this little side job, it's not even an actual job, I just help out my mother and her boyfriend, when they work at this local bar/pub, which is about once or twice a week. We know the owner, he's short on staff (or rather, good staff) and it's a pretty fun job when you've grown up in the area and know all the regulars. It's not really about getting tips or playing shrink for the overly drunk idiots. It's about talking to a lot of different people with different stories and backgrounds and personalities.

Now today, I was for once pissed off there. My mom took an evening shift, and she's not overly strong in doing the paperwork, since she usually does dayshifts, so of course I offer my assistance, having helped her boyfriend closing lots of times. I went there at dinner time, making my mom dinner and taking over till she had finished eating, and then went back home, since things were pretty dead down there.

At about 11, I decide I'm bored and rejoin her, giving her a chance to take a break. Seated at the bar is an old friend of my mother and my uncle, they've probably known each other for 20 years or so. Let's call him R. R is usually a pretty funny guy, always teases you and makes jokes with anyone within reach. But lately, the guy has been drinking a little more then he should. And he gets extremely annoying when he drinks.

The poor fellow had some twisted idea, that, and I quote "If it wasn't for my protection, you wouldn't be standing where you do, today." I take it lightly to begin with, and politely ask what R means. He repeats what he said, and continues with "I always protect your mom and you."
Well, sorry, mate, but exactly when and how have you protected me (I'm not going to speak on my mother's behalf, since I don't know half of what the woman has done before my time, therefore I only refer to myself in the continuation of this discussion) against what and who? He either can't or won't answer that, but proceeds to tell me he knows me well enough to say I don't know how the world works.

... Now, you can say a lot of things to me. You can put me down, insult me, call me crazy, and I'll just smile and agree. I might not actually think it's true, but often, with drunk or hard headed people, it will halt the discussion. Not always stop, but mostly halt.
He might be twice my age. He might be smarter then me. He might think it unwise of me to want to work with the profession I've chosen. But I will not be told I don't know how the world works, by a man who claims to know me, when in fact, he barely even knows simple things as my full name or age. He does not know me, and it pisses me off when people make idiotic statements as that.

And who the hell does he think he is, telling me I know nothing of how the world works?! What the hell does he know about that? And it's a pretty wide thing to say, if you ask me. It can mean hundreds, maybe even thousands of things. Obviously, I'm young, there's things I don't know, even if I know more then most people my age. I don't always voice my thoughts or opinions, but it doesn't mean I don't have them. In fact I rarelt get the opportunity to not think. I don't do "no thinking" very well, there's always something going on in there.

I had to go to the kitchen and back rooms to not smack the guy. I really wanted to. I hate being condescended by someone who has no right to do so. If you're actually superior to me, if you know me well enough to see your superiority, I might tolerate it for a very very short while. I find it disrespectful no matter what. I'll often be condescending right back, to show what a person is doing by acting that way, and it may not be the smartest approach, but 9 out of 10 times, it works.

I got rid of most of the tension by dancing. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I danced! To swing music, even. And it was fun. I'm terribly tired now.

Irritated swing dancer over and out.

What dreams are made of..

So I had a dream last night. I tend to take my dreams more seriously then I let people know, though it probably wouldn't make a difference to them. I'm labeled crazy already, I'm sure this only adds to the insanity. No, that's not the reason I don't say much about it. I have very authentic dreams, as well as nightmares. I believe they're my mind's way of processing what I usually repress or ignore, during the day.

If I'm worried about something, it usually comes out as anxiety in my dreams. If I'm angry, it reflects as causing others pain. If I'm excited and happy, my dreams become unrealistic and plain weird. I usually wake up laughing from those, or wondering about how it ever made logical sense while I was experiencing the dream.

Then there's the nightmares. They only occur when someone I care about is hurting. The less I can do about it, the less I can help, the worse the nightmare. I've never really taken the time to think that through and write it down, to maybe understand it better, and perhaps easing the intensity of them. Till now.

I didn't have a nightmare, last night, but something occured in the dream that had me thinking about a particular nightmare, when I woke up. Despite my nightmares being so realistic, this one really scared the shit out of me. Normally, when dreaming, you don't register the things I registered that night. How the temperature and humidity changed when I entered a room. The feeling of my eyes blinking and trying to adjust to the darkness. The ecchoing of my footsteps. The smell of a closed, wet room.

I've woken up screaming twice in my life, in horror and panic over whatever it is my subconscious has tried to show me. Those two times don't come anywhere near how I felt when I woke from this one. I was sure it had been real. I could still smell the blood, feel it on my hands, taste it in the air. I was ice cold all over, despite the blankets and the cat warming me.

And I couldn't get the voice out of my ears, it kept screaming in pain, kept telling me to stay away, kept telling me it was my fault.

It took me weeks, before I was finally able to go to bed, without being scared of dreaming that again. I sometimes experience periods of time, it can be days or weeks, where I'm haunted by nightmares every night. I barely get any sleep during those periods. It's not the nightmares that keeps me awake, it's the fear of that one nightmare. I never, ever want to wake up from that again. I think I'd rather just die, before experiencing someone suffer like that, again.

I'd rather take the pain myself, then see someone I care about go through it. If I can bear that pain, I will. Because seeing people I love suffer that much, hurts more then the pain ever could.

"Thanks for what you didn't know you did for me."

So, I stumbled upon a thread on this forum I've been at for the past.. 3? years. The title was "Thanks for what you didn't know you did for me." It was basically a place for people to voice their thanks to friends, family or complete strangers, for at some point having done something that changed their life, or had a huge impact on them. It could be anything, little things or big things, or just a sentence meant to cheer someone up.

It was a really great thread, if you ask me, a place to say thanks to that stranger who sent you a smile on a really shitty day, or the friend of a friend who never knew how much it meant, when they said they admire and respect you for a choice or action.

However, as much as I like the idea of it, I agree with something a person said in there. "If you have the chance to thank the person, do it. It might help them as much as what they did or said, helped you." We probably don't thank the people who should be thanked, often enough. I know I don't. I try to show my gratitude in other ways, but I'm not sure it always shows. One can only hope.

So I guess this is a thank you. I'm not going to name any names, the reasons I have for gratitude range from seemingly insignificant to very personal, and is not anyone else's business, then whom it concerns. But it's still a thank you. For the ones who have been there for me, supported me, cared about me, protected me and tried to keep my mood up at bad times.

Angel over and out.

First blog of many

Okay, so this will be my first blog on this site. What to write about, what to write about.. Well. I can always start with my day.

I babysat today. Well, is it really babysitting when the kids aren't babies? They're 7 and 9, after all. So am I a babysitter or a nanny? And what's the equivalent to babysitting? Nannying?

Anyhow. It was actually a lot of fun. The boys were building sandcastles at the daycare center, and Matthias, the youngest one, asked me to help him. So I dug a moat around his castle, and built a ramp for the airplanes he didn't have yet, but we managed to capture one of the other team's when it crashed on our land. Small victory, right there.

That set off a war, however, and we got bombed with sand and stones, till finally, our walls gave, and we had to admit defeat. But our castle WAS better then Phillip and Marcus', they just cheated. A lot. But they're 9, what can you really expect, right?

So we highjacked Marcus and took him home with us (Not really, we called and asked his mom if he could play in our courtyard today, and she agreed), and spend 2½ hours playing outside. I played football, even. Or, sorry, soccer. (To me, it'll always be football, not soccer.) And I didn't totally suck, for once. But again, 7 and 9 years old.

Normally, when we're outside, I'll find a bench and read while they play, and keep an eye on them, but today I didn't feel like doing that. And other kids came down to play with us, so at one point, I think I had 10 kids running in all directions XD However! (And this is the point I'm getting to, cause it was awesome) I was covered in sand and dirt and grass and who knows what, and then my upstairs neighbour came down with his daughters. And I had a nice, long talk with him, and played with his two youngest ones, and they were just delightful. Very chatty, those girls.

My neighbour then shows up with his two sons, and I play soccer with them for awhile. I look up to see where their dad is, and he's talking to the new guy, the american, who lives down on the first floor. (Not ground floor, as non-danes would call it, he was a bit confused about that too, when he first moved here, to him it's the second floor. But we'll get to that.)
I figured, since I've only said brief hello's to him when I've passed him on the stairs, that I'd introduce myself properly. And I'm super excited I did!

We talked for like 40 minutes while the boys played some more soccer (big surprise), and he attempted to keep his 17-month old from rolling down every stair in sight. And he was absolutely awesome. I've always had really annoying neighbours who kept to themselves, except Pedro (the one with the two sons) who's always been a joy, whenever he wasn't away working.

So this new guy's name is Kevin (which I thought was amusing, if you know me, you'll get that), and he's from upstate New York, and moved here in December, with his wife Helle and their son Gibson. He was absolutely thrilled when my first comment to his son's name was "Like the guitar?" XD He and Helle met in New York back in 2003, when she was studying to become a kindergarden teacher, at his friend's house when their band was practicing, and they just clicked.
He got really into telling me their story, and he was really good at it, too, I had a blast listening to him :D

They got married a couple of years ago, and lived in New York for awhile, but when she got pregnant, they decided to move to Denmark, cause she'd have the one year maternity leave here, but only 6 weeks in NY. And thus, they ended up here.
I finally got that chance to ask him how his door was doing XD He had to break through it a week after they moved in, cause he accidentally locked himself out, with Gibson inside, screaming his lungs out. What a horrible way to get aquainted with your new home, huh?

But all in all, he's an awesome guy, and Gibson is just the cutest little kid ever! Big blue eyes and blond hair, very curious and wants to do everything on his own. It's the first time I've enjoyed meeting a new neighbour ^.^ I still haven't met Helle, but I'm looking forward to running into her, cause she sounded like a rather cool woman, too, and I never found out what kind of music Kevin plays, so I'm curious and intrigued :D

I'm completely exhausted from all the playing, though! After spending 2 days roaming the Dragør Fair, walking around for hours, and then this, my legs need a rest.

Tomorrow, I'm going with mom and Tom out to search for a new couch for him. (The old one actually broke when he sat in it, the other day XD I hate that I wasn't there to have a heart attack of amusement about it!)

So, folks. This is all I have to say for my first day on my new blog. It's.. more then I thought I'd get out O.o Now, I'm gonna get myself a big glass of soda and a handfull of bisquits, put on a movie and lay back.

Couch Potato over and out.