We are cold, we’re so cold, we are

It’s 3 am right now and I’m still up. I finished my Chemistry homework and I should have gone to bed, but I am so afraid I won’t wake up in time for class tomorrow, that I’ve decided I will pull an all-nighter. I am also very cold, which doesn’t help at all at staying awake. Right now I am using my hair-dryer to warm myself up. It’s not even the heater the problem here. There’s actually a decent amount of heat in the room. It’s just that the heat isn’t registering in my cold cold skin. Because I went to a fancy dinner tonight, I was wearing only a blouse and a blazer; blouse + blazer + cold^2=s.a.d.f.a.c.e. However, I liked the way I looked, haha. And then I had to go to rehearsal right after the dinner, and for those of you who don’t know shit about Chapin Auditorium, let me tell you it’s fucking cold in there. There are no flies or insects in there. Why? Because it’s a fucking ice age. AND THEN, I had to walk all the way to Pearsons to do my Japanese homework with a friend of mine. We couldn’t actually figure out what the exercises wanted from our lives, and we tried really hard to decipher the text, but there were SO MANY FUCKING KANJI that we haven’t learned yet, that we decided we will show our work tomorrow and put on a sad sad face so the sensei won’t smack us with her stick. Just kidding, she does that when she loves people. So she WILL smack us. wao. Nvm that reasoning. So moving on. After that, I had to walk all the way up to my beautiful dorm. In the cold. AND wearing high heels. I find I have no problem walking in high heels. It’s just that it’s too cold outside and I wasn’t dressed appropriately.

bah, I think I have whined enough about the weather, and since I am not British, I will stop. Let me talk a little about Cabaret.

Cabaret proved to be a most interesting show. I am talking as if the show were over, but I know that on Saturday when it actually finishes, I will be too drunk to write anything coherent…So I found that I can be very creepy, even though I feel really plain and blah boring. I found that the bonds we had in Macbeth were TRULY special. I don’t think I will ever have another experience like Macbeth. Cabaret is close enough to it, but not quite. Dunno why…But anyway, Cabaret…I love all the songs, but my favourite favourite one is I don’t care much, and because I know you are too lazy to go look it up online, I will post the link to it, cause I am THAT kind

That’s my favourite one. How come this is the one I like the most, and not Cabaret, or Don’t tell mama? Well, first of all, because of the melody, the tune. It’s so sad, and so            disturbing. And then you listen to the lyrics and sometimes, I really feel like that. I have a clear hierarchy in my world.

Stranger<Acquaintance=<Friend of a Friend<Could be a Friend<Friend<Very good Friend< BFFN<BFF<SM

I assure you SM does not stand for Sado-masochism, and even if you didn’t think of it, I made you think of it so HA. It stands for soul mate and so far there is only one soul mate in my life. I have some BFFNs and some Very good Friends, but MOST of the people I know are freaking acquaintances of mine. This means that I don’t really care much about them. I only care when I need them to do something for me. That’s all sweet and normal, until they start thinking that you are friends. No, we are NOT friends, thanks, but no thanks. To me, a friend is a very special person in whom you can confide your deepest secrets without worrying s/he will tell the WHOLE world right after that. We are not close enough for that? Then you are JUST an acquaintance of mine. Don’t expect too much from me, I will not deliver it. Don’t expect me to break awkward silences just because you feel like talking, but don’t dare to do it yourself. And even if you DO break the ice and start a conversation, don’t think I will continue it for a long time. I’m not interested. If I were, I would be doing all the talking by now.

People still don’t get that. In Europe, I feel, people are more cold, distant, and get it because they’ve been through a lot and they know that people are people and they WILL stab you in the back on the first occasion. In America, there are still traces of that “hope” of a new world, where you can be whatever you want to be, make your dreams come true and blah blah. Oh the American Dream. Europe doesn’t dream anymore (and frankly I don’t think it ever dreamt). Actually Europe is trying to stay awake. Like I am. We are done with dreams. They never come true the way you want them. They fuck everything up. They make you hallucinate in public and stuff like that. They play with your miiiiiiiiiiind.

Yes. They do. Just like computers. But I will blog later about my relationship with computers. I wish I had some coffee. Or a cigarette. The latter sounds grrrrrrrrreat actually. But I need to wait until Cabaret is over to smoke again. I have decided I will smoke reds again since it IS cold. Menthols are good in the summer.  But yeh, sleep won the battle. I hope my roomie will wake me up in time for class tomorrow.

My mother would be proud of me

Yes, she would. If she knew I was smoking 6 weeks ago. 

For 5 weeks I haven’t smoked. At all. Zenzen. Not one cigarette. 

Until this past week. When I smoked a pack of vanilla cloves. And half of a pack of crappy Parliaments. 

Why would I do that considering I need my voice for the show in 2 weeks AND that I am taking running now? All I can say in my defense is that it was a terrible week. That’s all.

But I’m pretty sure she would be proud of me. 5 weeks with no cigarettes is something big to me, who used to smoke 2-3 packs a week. Opportunity knocked on my door with a pack of vanilla cloves freshly sent from sunny old California, and later on, with a pack of too short Parliament cigarettes. I could not say no to the Parliament cigarettes, because that’s just me. I can’t refuse someone. I miss my menthols. I can’t wait for the show to be over. 

On a happier note, I went to a party last night. It wasn’t a big party, but a cozy one. 

I’m back on track. And I better stay focused.