At the hairdresser's

People persons are just so lucky. Being able to walk up to anyone, flash them a smile and start conversation would be just perfect. Imagine the freedom I'd gain. Imagine the good effect it would have on my health. Imagine the possibilities (that very much sounded like it came out of an advert)...

Let me explain. I am so sickeningly scared of other people that I walk around looking at the pavement. Which isn't good for my back, something my mother never stops worrying about.

It's also far from good for my psyche. I discovered just today I am so scared of people I don't correct them when one of them calls me 'young man'. Good thing mum wasn't around, I'd never 've heard the end of it.

Being scared of people is bad. Especially when I go to the hairdresser's and don't speak up when the haircut starts to look too much like Justin Bieber's. Good thing that didn't last, or I would have had to go through with that cut until the hair grew back. Because I would never have said anything . I wish I was more confident.

Another thing I remarked while at the hairdresser's today: I am the only one who doesn't make small talk when getting her hair cut. Everyone else was talking about Spain, or the weather, or their children, or the annoying woman who almost accused them of stealing her umbrella. I wouldn't want to be that woman, every person who came in to get his or her hair cut heard about her surely having eaten it [the umbrella, not the hair].

I almost fell asleep while they were washing my hair. Courtesy of a 4 hours of sleep night of me trying to understand and help someone. Made me look really ridiculous when I forgot to take off my glasses when they were washing my hair. I was dead tired and when I made a sudden movement to save them from the water stream, said stream got into my neck. I must be the most clumsy customer they've had in ages.

At least I'll give them a good story. Better than some stuck up woman who lost her umbrella and behaved like she'd eaten it.

Friends are a whole lotta trouble...

Friends can be though to handle. I love mine, don't get me wrong, but friends are one hell of a load of homework. Friends are like plants, if you don't water them regularly and get them in the sunlight, you can forget 'em. Of course there are some that need more care than others, and some that you can virtually forget about, but the average friend needs the attention you give to your average houseplant (I was gonna write pot plant, but that might leave the wrong impression).

You have to contact a friend regularly, to see how he/she is doing. You can easily compare that with looking at your plants to see if any of them need special care. If one of your friends needs special care, you'll probably agree to do something together, ranging from the odd coffee to a trip. Compared with plants it's something ranging from a bit of water to a repotting.
Occasionally one of your plants will be sick, and either you don't care too much about your plants because you have many, better than this one, too, so you'll dispose of it, or you'll try to care for it better so it heals. Compare it to a strained friendship you entertain with someone. Either it's worth the while to make it better, or it's not. And don't give me the crap about it always being better to try to save a friendship, because that is just not true. Some friends you better get rid of, no matter how much it hurts to do so.
There are plants you just shouldn't try to save, even if they were your dead brother's gift. After all, it's just a gift, it's not your brother.

Losing a friend is hard, because it leads to questioning yourself about what the fuck you did wrong. In some cases it's fairly easy; you just didn't give 'em enough water, sorry, you didn't hang around with them enough. In other cases it's simply because the other screwed up, or because the relationship hit a wall and crumbled. Sometimes the plant they give or sell you is simply worth nothing, doomed from the beginning. Sometimes you're simply not responsible enough to care for fragile plants. Sometimes you'll have bad luck and bugs will come eat your plant. Once it's too late there's not really something you can do.

You have two, perhaps three types of plant owners. First the ones who have few and care for them very well. Then the ones who have many but have made plant caring a hobby, and care for them very well. And finally the ones who have some but can't handle them all. In the end they'll do like me and settle with orchids and cactuses, plants who need almost no care, but give little satisfaction (especially the cactuses).

I lost a friend, recently, or rather she lost me. Not that she even noticed, she's from the third category and she's got better than me.

Golly, I feel fucking lonely. Perhaps I should get me a few flowerpots with orchids. Pity they won't talk back.

Exams and patheticness

Hello, people who never read my blog (and who I'll never encourage to do so).

I've slightly disappeared from the foreground since I have exams, exams I must pass otherwise I can forget Congo this summer. Anyway, today's Friday, I have maths Monday, I should be studying but I'm calling it an afternoon. I'm dealing with the post-traumatic effects of my Dutch Literature exam. First oral exam ever. I think I looked slightly green when I entered the class. I also think my voice barely rose up above 'mice' level and I had symptoms of young age Parkinson's. You know, the disease that makes you tremble. Also,  I stuttered. But apart from that I think it went quite well. Apart from the part where she corrected me, you know, like twice.

So I've decided to wipe this incident from my mind, because if I start to brood it's going to take me down. On the upside (oh, look, an oxymoron!); the program I put on my calculator to cheat at the chemistry exam worked perfectly and proved to be extremely useful. Really, I would never have found those coefficients by myself. They're bitchy things, especially in combination with stoichiometry.

Enough about the extremely boring matter I handled today. Only problem, I don't have anything interesting to tell. Apart from the fact my little brother's friends like me because I'm ridiculous. Which is, as a matter of fact, quite depressing. Just as much as this item.I think I'm going to go watch an old classic movie where every one dies, or something. All Quiet On The Western Front, or something. Gone With The Wind or Camille. So I can cry sad, pathetic girly tears and pretend I'm just another hormonal screwed up teenager.