My kitty is very, very sick. We don’t know if she’s gonna make it. And I know that you think, it’s just a cat, but she’s so much more to us. She’s been with us for almost ten years and she is a member of the family. I almost lost her once, when she got lost when we were in the mountains, in our friends’ house. But this is so much worse. To see her slowly passing, getting weaker and weaker and having all those lashes of hope that arise only to be shut down by bigger uncertainties… She’s not doing well. I don’t want to loose a friend, and my kitty is just as much a friend and a part of the family as any human would be.  I don’t want to loose her and she’s not doing well.

My mom was taken into the ER yesterday. She has pancreatic problems, she has had an operation some time ago and she’s better now than before, but still there are times when it attacks and yesterday was one of those days. She told me only today. She doesn’t want to worry me, but it only makes things worse.  I love her beyond reason, more than anything or anyone else, we have the connection that not many mothers and daughters have. We have our differences and I can’t exactly tell her everything – not yet, anyway, but someday I will – but she’s been always my biggest support in life and my best friend. We have never had an argument. We disagree sometimes, we don’t have the same priorities, we upset each other sometimes, but we have never ever had a real fight, even when I was a teenager. Teenage girls are supposed to have fight with their mothers. I didn’t have even one.

Of course I worry. She does all the time too. It’s probably genetic, my grandma is a worrying-too-much type too.  And yet with all the worrying my mom  never banned me from doing what I wanted, to reasonable extent, of course. She always had faith in me and my sense of responsibility. Sometimes I didn’t deserve that.

My uncle lost a suit against his old co-worker who cheated on him for millions of zlotys. Apparently she bribed every judge on her way. My unlce is gonna be forced to sell his beautiful house and his awesome car and he already has alimony to pay for his two previous wives and three kids from those marriages. He has his third wife, who is a PE teacher in high school (or maybe it’s a middle school? Anyway, her salary is minuscule) and two children, boys of 7 and 9 years, from that third marriage, to provide for. So we made a general consensus that there will be no presents this year, except for the boys. Kids deserve to have some kind of normal Christmas, they don’t need to understand how bad things are.

And we won’t have presents either. I couldn’t care less. We payed around 600 zlotys for my kitty’s treatment and we’re gonna pay more if it’s necessary. I just want my kitty to be okay.

But all in all, it’s gonna be a very sad Christmas. And right now I’m in such mindset that I can’t look past that. I know I’m set for awesome New Year’s party and then to go to Gdańsk to see Cirque du Soleil’s Saltimbanco, and to go to Glee Live in London in June, and to get a traineeship in European Parliament for July and August, if I can. But it all seems so distant now. Like how can I ever be happy again if my kitty’s not gonna be here? I still hope she’ll get better, but it’s starting to be very difficult to stay positive. And I know it doesn’t work like that, grief is not perpetual. But I know this with my mind, my heart says otherwise. And I just can’t get over what my heart is saying right now, no matter how I try.

I’m sad.

I told her I didn’t like the Church anymore as an institution. I am not saying I don’t believe in God, because I do. I just can’t pretend like I am a good Catholic if I disagree with the Church on some very important – at least to me – issues. And if I don’t trust it anymore. I used to think that all those years of history made the Church somehow more right. Now I know they don’t mean anything. On the contrary, what happened in the past only proves they were wrong before. What makes them think they aren’t now?

How can the Church assume moral superiority over anyone and anything if they were the ones making so munch evil in the world? I’m not just talking about the most obvious Crusades and Inquisition, but also keeping the science development back for ages. How can they claim there is no doubt as to the righteousness of their teachings if they themselves changed it over the course of the years? How can they justify that they came from basing their dogmas on St. Augustin to basing then on St. Thomas? How would they explain the celibacy? It was introduced as a canonic law in XI century. 1000 years, there was no priest celibacy in Catholic Church! How can they expect me to believe that the pope is infallible if the history tells the story of their promiscuity, cruelty, luxury and sins all over? How am I supposed to have faith if I witness the Church, led by the pope, covering up their priests’ pedophilia?

And most of all, how am I supposed to be a good Catholic and not be a hypocrite if I disagree with the Church on things like contraception and in vitro and homosexuality? I can’t tell that to my mom just yet, but I am bisexual (or more like pansexual, if we really want all those etiquettes), so how can I adhere to the religion that says I’m against nature and I shouldn’t love my way and that my love is wrong, that it’s a sin and I am ‘called’ to a life of chastity. God created me like that. And now He doesn’t want me to act on it? He doesn’t want me to love and be loved? I just can’t agree with that. I just can’t accept that. And I never will.

But the truth is, I am scared. I am scared because I was brought up to believe that going to the Mass on Sunday is important. Because it’s a direct link with God. Because it’s a sacrament and it should be observed. And I really want to belong. I have this longing in me, longing for a community of people. Putting the institutional side of the Church aside, it’s also a community of people who believe. And I want to be a part of that community. But I can’t. Because I don’t want to be a hypocrite.

I am not saying here that the Church it’s necessarily wrong. Maybe it’s not. But I doubt, and that doubt is what keeps me from saying “I am a Catholic”. I am not. With religion you have to go va banque. All or nothing. And I can’t just decide “from now on I believe in everything the Church says”. It doesn’t work that way. I can’t just chose to change my opinions, my views. They have to convince me. And they’re not doing a great job at that right now…

I’m lost. But I won’t lie or pretend like I am someone I’m not. Even for my mom, whom I love dearly. She will just have to accept that. I don’t like worrying her, but there’s nothing I can do about it. I’m sorry, mom. I love you. But I can’t just get unlost with a flick of a wand. I wish I could. But I can’t.

I’m lost.

My Group Dynamics professor keeps telling us that when we talk about our feelings, it helps us to canalize them, and therefore resolve the tension, calm emotions. If this is true, that’d be the first useful thing she said during that class. I’m not convinced, but I can’t just sit there anymore and be silent, and I have no one to talk to about it. I mean, I guess I could… but then I think that I don’t want to burden anyone with my bad mood. It’s enough that they have to put up with me in a state like this.

So my blog is an ersatz of this therapeutic conversation that I need. I could write in my own personal diary, but here there’s at least a potential that someone sometime might actually read it. I probably should be freaked out about it, but the thought is surprisingly soothing.

So let’s start with this: I am beyond exhausted.

There was a complaint from one of our clients, and the fault for it was pinned down on me. Let’s not dwell on the fact that I have NO decisive power in my job, so basically I do what I’m told, thus it couldn’t be my fault. Let’s not. Let’s just say that due to that client complaint I was instructed to do something very boring, very time and effort-consuming and I had to finish it before 6 pm today.

So basically I’ve been doing it at work all week, and then I realized there was no way I was going to make it on time if I leave it for office hours. So yesterday, after work and classes at Uni, I came back home and started working on that stupid thing. It was around 10 pm. At 7 am my spine gave in and I had to lie down for a while. Woke up three hours later. Didn’t go to classes. Sat on my butt in front of my computer and worked instead. Finished at 5 pm.

16 hours of working, contorted on my not-so-comfortable chair, with spine killing me and brain slowly shutting down. I drank a sea of Yerba Mate to stay awake and got through it.

The worse in it?

I probably won’t get paid for it at all, because it’s due to a client complaint.

So yeah, I’m really exhausted, but I overdosed Yerba Mate and can’t sleep yet. Welcome to my personal brand of hell. And, oh yeah, my spine is still hurting.

But it’s not the end of the story. Or rather, it is the end, but I wand to take a step back. Because the whole week was like that: I slept for 3 hours tops, went to the office and for classes at Uni and basically worked my ass off. (Or arse, as my British friends would say.) (You know that stereotype about British English being the elegant and sophisticated one? SO NOT TRUE. At least judging by what I learn from Eleri and Lou.) (Eleri and Lou, and Bri, are my new friends. Together we are KLOT4. I shall add the appropriate note in my “The Cast” sub page.)

And before that, there was Falkon. Falkon is an annual fantasy fan convention held in Lublin, which is 5 hours away by train. It lasts four days and is pretty awesome. But you don’t get to sleep that much during it. I mean, there are all those distractions… like my friends whom I see roughly once a year, exactly then, during Falkon. And a night before that I’ve been preparing questions for our pop quiz on the Witcher Saga (we, that is me and Jod, held it on Friday and it was a success). So all in all, during that five days, I’ve slept around 12 hours. Which is 3 hours per night. Well.

So you can see why I am so damn tired.

But of course there is more than physical exhaustion.

(You didn’t think this post would be short, did you? Well. It won’t be. It will be, however, rather personal, so you can ignore it. Ooops. Maybe I should have said it on the beginning. Welp.)

So I met someone during Falkon. Not that it’s strange, I met a lot of new people. But that person was pretty special. Mainly because it was the first girl I got interested in that wasn’t helplessly straight.

You know, I have a long record of failed loves and crushes. I’ve been in love with my best friend for ten years before I found out he’s gay. Then I’ve been in love with my other best friend who was straight and I still thought I was straight too, so I pretty much pushed it out of my conscious brain. There have been moments, though, when I wondered. I remember one time in particular, when we were lying on a huge bed in a hostel in Wrocław, me, M. (the gay friend I’ve been in love with; it was after he came out to me and after I managed to get over him) and our friend A. (we were all classmates). I’m trying to remember whether I talked with them about it and I think I did, but I’m not sure. But I certainly thought about it. “What if…?”, I thought. “What if I’m not just very close to her? What if that’s love? After all, I don’t know much about love.” I never admitted to that friend that I was in love with her. Mainly because I was never sure until recently, because only recently I came out to myself as bisexual or pansexual, or whatever you want to call it. (I really don’t like etiquettes. They’re good for clothes, not people.) And we don’t speak anymore. I mean the contact just faded away, died naturally. Which is very sad, because I really liked… well, loved her. Even if we could never be together, I still grieve the lost friendship. People grow apart and I don’t like it, but there’s nothing I can do about it.

After that, there have been a long list of guys and – recently – girls that caught my attention. I suppose I could call them my crushes. The problem is – all the boys were either gay or taken and all the girls were straight (and sometimes taken too, ugh). Well.

The story of my life. I think I should preside over a club for Girls Who Like Boys Who Like Boys. Also Girls Who Like Girls Who Like Boys. Oh, fuck it.

Anyway, Falkon. First time in my life when I met a fellow bisexual girl that I actually got interested in. (I’ve met bi and les before, of course, but it doesn’t mean I was immediately drawn to them.) And for a moment there it seemed she was interested in me too. Or maybe I just misinterpreted the signals. Did I make it all up in my mind?

“She’s weird”, this was what my friend said about her. I agreed. Yes, she was weird. But apparently I like weird. I thought she was cute. And pretty. And, omg, when she put on that shirt with a low neckline… well, let’s just say my IQ dropped significantly for a while, before I could pull myself together. I never knew it could be so… animal. The infatuation.

Yeah, I kinda developed a crush on her.

Only to see her getting together with our mutual friend. A boy.

So…

Yeah.

I’m a tad disappointed.

Not that it’s a big thing anyway. My world didn’t collapse and shatter into little pieces like it was with M. I’ve known her for a day before the situation was made very clear. It’s not like I was ready to jump into a relationship with her just because I thought she was cute and my heart rate raised sligthly when she was close. I’m far too picky for that. I also have high standards. Probably too high. But there, right there, I saw a glimpse of hope, an opportunity that doesn’t happen a lot to me. Or maybe I was only interested because she seemed to be drawn to me. I’ve been single my entire life and I long for a grain of… something. An emotion. A feeling of being close with someone. Absolute acceptance. Confirmation of my purposefulness in this world. I don’t know.

I’ve been single my entire life but it’s only after something like that happens when I really feel lonely. And sad. This isn’t something frequent, I’m usually a very happy person and I embrace life with full positivity and openness. But at times like this I go back to that time in my life when everything was dark and there was literally no one who could be my sparkle of light. When I felt so lonely and worthless and unimportant that stupid thoughts got into my head.  Sometimes, in some very rare moments of absolute self-doubt and self-pity, those thoughts come back. They’re just glimpses, but they’re there. I’m an overly emotional person, my mood swings are rare but very deep. (Unless I’m on pills. Then mood swings happen every ten minutes or so.) (That’s why I’m usually not on pills, though I should be.) (I’m a bad patient.) I had a moment like this today. Coming down the stairs, barely alive after those 16 hours of working, painfully aware of my every flaw, forgetting all the amazing things in my life.  Feeling like I’m only a burden to all those awesome people in my life, feeling like I’m worthless, like I don’t matter. If I had a gun in my hand in that short moment… I don’t know. I don’t know.

But that lasted only few seconds, a minute at most. I went out, felt the freezing air biting my cheeks, put on my headphones, took a deep breath and everything returned to normal. I’m still exhausted, I’m still sad and disappointed. But it’s manageable.

Also, if not for three bright spots in the darkness of this week, I’d go totally nuts. I mean like take-a-sharp-knife-go-on-streets-and-attack-innocent-passers-by-and-then-cut-your-own-veins kinda nuts. (Exaggerating only a little.)

And those three bright spots were: my Morpions, whom I barely saw this week, but even this little of them could push me into a tad better mood; new episode of Glee, because that’s my obsession and I love it and I totally invest in fictional characters of this show as well as the actual cast, and I do so way too much; and my KLOT4, that is Bri, Eleri and Lou, who all three have inadvertently kept me sane throughout the week by just being themselves and putting up with me.

Thank you, guise.

There, I said it all. (Well, almost. But that’s far too private to share with anyone. I guess I’m gonna have to canalize it with my mirror or something.) I don’t know if I feel better. Maybe a little. I’m still very tired and not sleepy at all, damn you, Yerba Mate. I love you too much, I shouldn’t have overdosed you. Ech. I’ll try to take a bath and maybe then the sleep will come.

Goodnight, I guess.

I remember the image, it’s stuck in my brain, of the second airplane hitting the tower. I wasn’t there when the first one hit, but this one image of the second airplane, of the tower smoking, crumbling down, will always be there, before my eyes.

I remember this was the first time in my life that I saw pure shock in people’s eyes. I don’t remember if they cried, I just remember those eyes, wide open, not understanding, not grasping what just happened. They were Poles, just presenting the news, but I think they realized something I’ve learnt years later, when I was older: it was the end of an era. The beginning of a new one.

And I remember fear. And sadness. I remember it was the first time in my life I went to school wearing a black ribbon, the next day. I did that again when Pope John Paul II died (although the ribbon this time was white). And I did it after Smoleńsk plane crash. In some ways, Smoleńsk was our own, Polish 9/11, even though it was not an attack of enemy forces.

And the sadness is still here. And the fear is even bigger. Maybe now no one is safe. And you know what? Being aware that Osama ben Laden is dead doesn’t make it any better or easier, it doesn’t bring any relief. At least to me.

I wish I could remember more, but I don’t.

But there’s one thing I am sure of: I know I will never forget.

The victims, their families and friends, all the American people and frankly – everyone in the world who has been directly or indirectly affected – you are in my prayer tonight.

I was talking to @WeAreSBNN on Twitter, asking if they had any t-shirts for people who are neither straight, nor narrow ;) you know, to support the cause. They said they’re planning on making a suitable t-shirt. I said cool, do you ship overseas? Yeah, sure, to all major countries. The list is on their site. And of course it doesn’t include Poland… so I’ll have to ship to a friend in UK or Ireland instead and they will have to ship it to me next. Twice the price.

Don’t get me wrong, I love the whole campaign, I support it wholeheartedly, I love the guy (or gal?) behind their Twitter account, so nice and kind, and I really get why they don’t ship to Poland – no point if there’s only me wanting it or even knowing about the campaign, right? I get it, really.

I just wish Poland wasn’t such far end of the world. I just wish we were recognized as one of the biggest (both by area and population) country in EU, with strong economy (the only one in EU holding steady without negative GDP during recent world crisis and recession) and awesome culture, worth looking into.

I wish people at least knew where Poland is. The number of times when I had to point it on the map or explain to people where it is and that no, we don’t have grizzly bears walking on streets and we do have TV and Internet and everything (I’m exaggerating only a little), is alarming, really.

I wish we weren’t ignored. But I know it’s not gonna change anytime soon. So I just have to get used to being ignored.

This is a song performed by a Polish group called Bajm, with Beata Kozidrak as a lead singer. The song is probably the most beautiful thing about motherhood that I have ever heard.

Bajm

“Dwa serca, dwa smutki” / “Two hearts, two sorrows”

Rośniesz jak młody buk na moich ramionach /You’re growing like a young beech* on my arms
Jak drzewo, którego nikt, nikt nie pokona / Like a tree that no one, no one can defeat
Dałam ci wolę istnienia / I gave you the will of existence
Dałam ci siłę tworzenia / I gave you the power of creation
Nowy nieznany szlak nad twoją głową / The new, unknown path over your head
Może jest tylko snem, a może koroną / Maybe it’s just a dream or maybe a crown
Zostań więc Bogiem i drzewem / So become God and a tree
Między mną, ziemią, a niebem / Between me, the Earth and the Heavens**

Ref.: / Chorus:
Więc teraz serca mam dwa, smutki dwa / So now I have two hearts, two sorrows
I miłość po kres, i radość do łez / And love to the end, and joy to the tears
Wieczory długie i złe / Evenings long and bad
Krótkie dnie, więc całuj mnie częściej, / Short days, so kiss me more often
Bo nie wiem jak będzie / Because I don’t know what is going to be

Ojciec Twój pędzi-wiatr, uwieść mnie zdołał / Your father, road runner, has managed to seduce me
Tulił jak cenny skarb w swoich ramionach / He held me in his arms like a treasured  gold
Dałam mu wolę istnienia / I gave him the will of existence
Dałam mu siłę tworzenia / I gave him the power of creation

Ref.: / Chorus: x3

*In Polish “buk” and “bóg” are pronounced the same way; “buk” is beech and “bóg” means god.

** In Polish “ziemia” can mean either the floor or the Earth, as well as “niebo” can mean the sky or the Heaven.

Going to Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Polish premiere, on July 14/15, at midnight :)

The worst part its of course the fact that apparently you have to choose between 3D with subtitles or 2D with dubbing. I’d like 2D with subtitles, but that’s not an option :/ all in all we’ve decided for the subtitles, we’re just gonna have to endure the 3D. (Most of us don’t like it, because it gives headache and is not all that fancy.)

(And once again my wordless wednesday is pretty wordy xD)

Anyway, last time I wrote I was saying that my exam session was going well. And it did – with one little exception. I flunked the oral Italian exam. It was entirely my fault (though I really wanted to blame Glee for that, I can’t, it was me who preferred watching it and reading Dalton instead of actually learning). But the consequences are just not fair. Usually when you fail an exam, you get to retake it in September and all is fine. I get to retake it too, but because I need to pass all my exams before my BA exam, I couldn’t get BA now, as everybody else, I have to take it in September too. And that means I can’t apply for the studies of secondary level, the MA studies. Everyone will get in before I even get my BA. My only hope is that there will be the second enrollment in September and I’ll get in then, but it’s not certain and I might be facing the possibility of loosing an entire year. I don’t know what I’ll do with myself in that case. Of course I’ll apply for MA studies next year, but in the meantime… I’ll have to find a job. And what if I can’t? What if I have to go back to my parents’ home and leave everything I have here behind FOR A FREAKING YEAR?! Not mentioning that my roommate would be in extremely difficult situation, having to find a new roommate very, very fast and all.

Or maybe I’ll just go to Warsaw, get a visa and come living in USA for that gap year. I’m not joking – I’m seriously considering a year in USA as an au-pair or a nanny. I’ve been in France twice for summer vacations exactly to do this – be an au-pair, so I have some experience. I speak decent English. The family would provide me with accommodation and some pocket-money. I’d have to use all my savings from France just to get the plane ticket, but one day I’ll have to use it anyway, so why not for this? I really want to visit USA – and not only travel as a tourist, I want to feel this country, live there for a while, just like I did with France.

But all this is a consideration, in case I don’t get in to my MA studies. I really really really hope I will.

I had a serious breakdown when I found out about this. A darkest day of my life since high school, or maybe even since middle school. I was hysterical, crying all the time, wanting to curl up on my bed and never ever get up. But I got over it and next day I was fine. And I am fine.

Surprisingly fine. Better than I ever was, actually.

And I don’t know if this is because of that flunked exam, or because of my new internship, or because of Glee, but I am feeling better in my skin than I ever felt. Like I’ve been reborn. Everything is new. I’m looking at the world with wide eyes and feeling it more intensely than ever. I’m not afraid anymore.

And that’s probably the biggest change: the one in me. And I guess I have Glee to thank for that. But this is a topic for another post. Because you probably raise your eyebrows right now, thinking how silly I am saying that a simple show (and not the best quality one, as I’m sure some of you might think) could make that big of a difference. Well, it did. It showed me something very important; more than that: it made me believe it. Something no one could do until now. But as I said, it’s a topic for another time.

There’s another thing that happened while I was gone from here: the History of French Language Exam. I got a decend grade from it, but two of my best friends weren’t that lucky. The teacher had done something unforgivable and frankly just criminal – opened our private e-mail even though the girls were protesting. It’s against the Constitution of Republic of Poland, let alone the penal code. Moreover, in one of the e-mails he found a silly name that someone made up for him. I can’t stress that enough: it was our private correspondence. He had no right to read it. But he did and then abused the girls for it verbally  to the point they left the room crying. We are trying now to file an official complaint agaist that guy. I am just disappointed in our colleagues: the whole year that teacher was mean to all of us and with what he did to those girls… it’s unforgivable. But the whole class, with a few exceptions, says they won’t even sign that complaint because it’s not their business. Really, I thought we were more of a group than that. But okay, they don’t want to, we’re not going to force them. I just think it’s opportunistic and cowardly from their part. I wasn’t in the room when it was happening either and I am going to do everything I can to make that guy pay for what he did. Not just because it’s my friends we’re talking about, but because it’s the right thing to do. My blood pressure is still raising every time I think about it.

Another thing is more cheerful (sort of): I started my second internship. I work at the office with some pretty jolly gals doing mostly what I do for that first internship: spell checking and proofreading the translations, fixing the formatting and stuff. Recently I also did some other things, like filling forms concerning freelancer translators who work with us. Very, very annoying stuff – boring as hell. But I’m an intern, so I do what I’m told to do. I gain experience. And when I’m done, it’s gonna be a huge advantage in any attempts to get a real job in the future. I hope.

Also? I got totally addicted to Tumblr. And I’m translating “Dalton”, a Glee AU!Klaine fanfiction, into Polish. It’s all fluffy and not at all realistic, but I love it anyway. Huh.

And yesterday, for the first time in my life, I got a little drunk. I have a very strong head and usually I get just a little buzz in my ears at most, I honestly don’t know why yesterday was so different. T’was a strange experience. Not at all unpleasant (I was just slightly out of control, singing, dancing and saying silly stuff, but nothing more disorderly), but also not sky-high cool. I mean, it was fun when it lasted, but right now I’m a little embarrassed for myself. I can’t think how I would feel if I did something really stupid. Or if I couldn’t remember what I did.

(I know I’m 22 and I should have this kind of experience long behind me (legal age in Poland is 18), but what can I say? I am usually a good girl. And I really have a strong head.)

Oh, and I have totally rainbow nail polish on right now, Darren Criss style. Also his pink sunglasses. That is a real obsession, ya know :D

(I also want a sea monkey wrist aquarium, just like Chris Colfer’s, but I guess finding it would be a little problematic, since that sorts of things are not popular in my corner of the world.)

And that’s pretty much all for now. Thanks for putting up with me and see you soon ;)

What is very not good is that Asia, one of my best friends, didn’t pass that Lingustics exam.  This sucks, because now she wants to bail out the other exams because she doesn’t believe she can get to Masters Degree studies in the second enrolment, in September, after the repeat exam. I tried to tell her she should be strong and fight. There aren’t that many people who even try to get in on this degree and it’s entirely possible that there won’t be enough people to even open the faculty. So she should get in without problems in September. Still… pretty depressing. I just can’t be glad about my result when my friend didn’t succeed.

Also? I watched entire Glee show in 6 days and fell in love with Kurt. Or, more precisely, with the couple Kurt/Blaine. They are just so adorable together <3 I can’t express it. Or actually… I haven’t written any fanfiction in years, I’m more of my own creation kinda gal now, but right now I really feel like writing Kurt/Blaine slash. Me! I have nothing against slash if it’s well written, but I usually don’t search for that kind of texts myself. And here – I am just so tempted! Maybe it’s because they are so cute, maybe because this couple is actually canonic – something I can’t say about all the Drarrys, Snarrys etc. (Aevenien should kill me now. Though with a little luck, she won’t read this :D) Anyway, I shouldn’t even think about it and just go back to learning. But after the session ends – I am DEFINITELY writing a Kurt/Blaine fanfiction.