Category Archives: The life of a weirdo

That awkward moment when you apologise for being a vegetarian

I recently was invited to stay at somebody’s house for the weekend. I was very much looking forward to it and I indeed had a great time there. But a thought struck me just a couple of days before the trip: Was me being a vegetarian going to be an issue? I had been there before, so I knew their eating habits. But were they aware that I no longer ate meat? I hadn’t told them. But had my family? I told myself that surely they had mentioned it. Well … guess who was wrong?
Dinner time came and we were all dished some awkwardness. I noticed quickly that nobody had mentioned to my hosts that I was a vegetarian. I had mentally prepared myself for this possibility and even found some humour in it. Not so much my hosts. They were weirdly irritated by me eating nothing but salad and offered me some chicken. I thankfully declined and went to explain only to be interrupted by my family. “She doesn’t eat chicken. She’s a vegetarian!” one of the little ones shouted. What shall I say? It’s a very big deal for the kids. They would tell strangers on the streets, if only I let them. So there it was. The V-word, that can change the mood at a dinner table completely. Before I knew what was happening I found myself saying sorry over and over. But what for? For being an inconvenience? I wasn’t asking for special treatment. I never became a vegetarian to be a burden to anybody. I became a vegetarian, because I couldn’t justify to myself feeding on animals, when I could comfortably live without their suffering and death. I shouldn’t apologise for that.
So again, why was I apologising. I believe, because I put my hosts into a position where they felt they couldn’t live up to being good hosts. Or rather their interpretation of a good host. I was perfectly happy. They felt I shouldn’t be, that they should’ve provided me with something better. And who’s fault was it that they felt that way? Entirely mine! I suspected they didn’t know about my vegetarianism and still I didn’t act upon that suspicion. It would’ve been fairly easy to warn them. Instead I had told myself that it would be fine. To me being a vegetarian is not a big deal. It’s just the way it is. A part of my life. To others it occasionally happens to be quite a big deal. I know that. And I should respect that, the way I expect them to respect my decision not to eat meat. So for others I will have to make a bigger deal out of it at times. Just to make sure that their not knowing won’t cause them to feel uncomfortable.
And then hopefully I won’t have to apologise for being a vegetarian again. Cause really …  it’s a good thing!

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Creepy Crawlies on your head

Once again I found myself spending hours and hours searching children’s heads for nits. It was the third time in half a year that one of the kids brought head lice home. By now I feel like an expert at spotting the disgusting little eggs.
Head lice are not a sign of uncleanliness. Anybody can get head lice, in fact they feel a lot more attracted to clean heads. Therefor having them is nothing to be ashamed of. But let me tell you they are some annoying little buggers.
They jump onto your head, bite you, drink your blood, lay their eggs and then they jump onto the next head. But within a week or two the eggs hatch and you’ve got a bunch of new head lice jumping around. The Nymphs become adults within one to two weeks, which means more nits. The longer it takes to detect there are head lice going round, the faster they spread. That’s why it’s so important to warn everyone in your social circle. Call schools, crèche, work … everyone. Their not knowing about it yet, does not necessarily mean that you are the source. It could be that simply nobody else has detected them yet, or that they were absolute dickheads for not warning anybody.
Alright, so now you have detected the nits and spread the word you have to get rid of them. Head lice treatment is quite easy to find. There are plenty of different ones and all chemists will promise a different one to be the very best and most effective. Just choose whatever, cause lets be real they all smell rank and can’t be trusted a hundred percent. You basically pour poison onto a child’s head (and/or your own) in hopes that it will kill all nits and lice. Nothing that smells pleasant will do the job. There also shouldn’t be any surprises to what it does to your hair. Most of the treatments have to be left in the hair for a certain time and then washed out. And damn it’s hard to get the stuff out of the hair. You’ll find yourself repeating the washing out part over and over again.
Followed by this comes the really hard part: Getting all the nits out of the hair. The instructions on the head lice treatment will usually tell you to comb the nits out. Yeah … as if! If you believe for one second that you can comb nits out you are a fucking idiot. Lice basically glue their eggs to your hair. The nits stick to the hair so well, that they can’t be combed out. You have to pull them out with your fingernails one by one. Sounds like a lot of work? It is! And because you can’t trust the treatments you really have to make sure to get all the nits out. So you’ll find yourself looking at every single hair of the person you are treating. Fun days when you are treating more than just one person.
And if you haven’t got somebody at hand to check your head you’ll spend all day paranoid and itchy, even if you’re all clean. To be fair you’ll spend the next couple of days itchy and paranoid, no matter what.
But I’ll tell you what the fucking most annoying thing about nits is: fucking other people! You can be the most thorough person at finding nits and taking them out, but if there is just one person in your social circle who doesn’t treat them properly they’ll be back. You’ll have to do it all over again. And if the others still aren’t doing their part, again. And again and again.
Getting rid of head lice is really a team work. So once a week take a peek.

Stressed out over being stressed

So I’m late. And even through there’s zero chance of me being pregnant, because I’m single as fuck, this is stressing me out.
Now I know, that this is something that most women will regularly experience. You hate being on your period, but when it’s late you’re freaking out. Unless you were trying for a baby, being late is just not a good thing.
There are quite simple explanations for your period to be late besides being pregnant. And I am aware that you need to have sex to become pregnant. No intercourse, no baby. But still each time a voice in the back of my mind tells me that I might be carrying the next baby Jesus. I know it’s absolutely mad! No need to tell me that. So a much louder voice shouts back “SCIENCE BITCH! DON’T BE FUCKING RIDICULOUS!”.  That kinda helps.
So then my mind turns to the most obvious reason: stress. And instantly I start obsessing over the possibility of being stressed. “Am I stressed? I don’t feel stressed. But maybe I’m just lying to myself to keep going and really I am stressed. But that would be silly. I’m not that good a liar, am I? Or maybe I’ve been stressed for so long that I don’t even recognise it as abnormal anymore. But no … no, I don’t think so. I’m stressing myself more with this than anything else.” So I push the thought away. But sure enough the next time I sit on the toilet and there’s no blood, I start thinking the same thoughts all over again.
The longer this goes on for, the worse it gets and the harder it becomes to push the thought of my period aside. I stress more and more. And I go to sleep determined to get my period the next day. I tell myself that it’s definitely going to happen the next day. That there is nothing wrong with me and I’d just have to wait till the next day. It surely will happen then. As if pure strength of mind and positive thinking could make my body shoot blood out of my vagina.
And my body is like “Nope!” Yeah well, I should’ve known better. That’s just not how it works.
So the next step will be that I reflect the whole past month to see if anything happened that could’ve messed with my cycle. Can I ever figure it out? Haha … you bet I can’t! Everything always seems very normal to me. Which stresses me some more. If only I had an explanation! Or even better: If only I started bleeding already.
I stress and stress. Then I stress myself some more. Next I feel stressed over stressing myself. And then there is no fucking way out. Till the day comes where I’m just like “Fuck this shit! Then I’ll just wait till next month. Who needs blood uncontrollably running out of them anyway?”
And this ladies and gentleman is the day that I’ll finally get my period.

What’s the story with blocking people anyway?

So the other day I was watching “Black Mirror”, which by the way is awesome! Those of you who have seen it before know that pretty much all episodes revolve around some imaginary advanced technology. So in this one particular episode people were able to block people from their lives. The blocked person was not only, not able to send messages to the person that blocked them, but they also couldn’t see them. The two persons could be standing right in front of each other shouting and still they wouldn’t be able to see or hear the other person. All they could see would be a blurred, featureless shape and all they could hear would be tuned down unintelligible sound. Not a chance to get around the block. It is basically an extreme version of the block function we already have.

The idea and invention of this function is great. It helps you to protect yourself from harassment through social media. Before we had this function the only thing one could do was to ask the other person to stop texting, calling, etc. But if that didn’t help there wasn’t much to do other than changing your number, or deleting your account. The block function gave harassed people their power back. You were back in charge, without another person pushing you to take more drastic steps.
But it seems to me it’s gotten a little out of control. The block function is being misused. Of course you are free to block whoever you want. But why? Why does one feel the need to block a person if nothing really happened? Because the person said something you didn’t like? Because you had a fight? Because you just don’t want to deal with them?
What a load of bullshit! Whatever happened to talking things out? Fighting till there is fucking nothing left to fight over? Instead we make sure that we can’t be reached?
And what does this say about us? People prefer to cut somebody out of their lives rather than dealing with them. We avoid conflict and sometimes we just want to be a little dramatic, after all there’s still the option to unblock. And how grateful they’ll be once you unblock them. Aren’t you just a kind human being for giving them another chance. Me bollocks! It would’ve been much more admirable if you would’ve given them the chance to explain themselves in the first place. But nope blocking it is, I guess. Blocking, blocking and some more blocking.
I’d like to think that if we had the option to block somebody in real life people wouldn’t use it. But then again, wouldn’t they? It’s become quite a normal thing to do and who’s to say that the next stage couldn’t become normal too.
Personally I think anybody who decides I’m not worth dealing with, or listening to, can’t have much respect for me. I’d much rather fight with someone till we both need a break, find myself ignored for a bit and then talk it out with cool heads. At least then I know the other person cares enough to want to make up.
There you go people of the world, I’ll leave you with that …

Why were we friends again?

I recently realised that I somehow got sucked into an unhealthy relationship. Obviously, I only had the best intentions. Who actually plans to be in an unhealthy relationship? I am fucked up in my own special way, but that much? No!
So here’s the story. A couple of years ago I met this guy online. We had a very random conversation, but he was nice enough so we talked again some time later. Over a period of time we got to know each other somewhat better. We talked regularly. He told me about his girlfriend, I told him about the guy I was involved with. Blah … blah … blah … same old story. I never thought about him as someone I could have romantic feelings for. I never even met the guy. He was just this person behind the messages, this picture on the screen, the voice on the phone. The way I saw him he would’ve been great to hang out with. Someone to spend a day in the pub with. But it never came to that. Still I wished him well and cared for him. He was a friend to me.
So far so good, but at some point I felt like he wished for me to be more than just a friend. He still had his girlfriend and told me often enough how much he loved her. So I explained the feeling away and didn’t ask him if there was anything to it.
Then out of nowhere he told me what an awful person and friend I was and blocked me. I was crushed and could hardly understand how it came to that. In my eyes I had treated him like most of my other friends. In my brain I evaluated every friendship I ever had. Was I really such a bad friend? Broken friendships popped into my mind. Was I to blame for every friendship that ended badly? Maybe. I couldn’t tell. But then again why had so many of my friends stuck with me for such a long time? Also I realised that I had plenty of friends. I told myself to just let it go. What did it matter what one person had told me? And anyway I couldn’t even reach him to find out why he thought so badly of me. Or could I? Through all his attempts to cut me off, he had left a back door open. I still don’t know whether on purpose or by accident, but he had left me a way to reach him. After some time thinking, I eventually decided to contact him.
I won’t call it a mistake, but in a way our friendship was defined by the conversation we had then. To make it short he accused me of many things that I felt were unjustified, but I apologised anyway. I was determined to show him that I could be a great friend. The best of friends.
Looking back this urge to prove myself as a good friend to a real-life-stranger seems insane. It surely is. But hey that was just the mental state I was in.
So we were back on talking terms again. But this friendship brought me no happiness at all. I had to face accusations over and over again. He regularly put me down. And stupid as I was, I apologised and promised to work hard on being a better friend.
To be fair things did get better. I still got side punches every now and then. He liked to tell me how much his girlfriend didn’t like me and how she mistrusted me and warned him to stay away from me. There is a good chance that she had indeed said these things. I am positive she had sensed that his intentions towards me were more than just friendly. Anyway my suspicions were confirmed by him a while later. I made it very clear that I did not see him the same way and was also positive I wouldn’t do so in future. He stayed with his girlfriend and I thought now that the air was cleared we might have an actual chance of a normal friendship. I thought clearing the air and leaving no hopes for any romance would set the guy free. Yaaaay no more hopes, no more friendzone. But nope! That’s not how the friendzone works. Accordingly any contact between us was awkward.
We made it work anyhow. Why? I can’t fucking tell! I was still trying to prove I was a good person and friend, I guess. There were so many things that I had to ignore in order to keep this friendship going. So many fucking things! He asked for more and more of me. Again and again I was asked to change. To then be told how perfect I was. The fuck I am! All the compliments just made me feel awkward. I wasn’t used to it and out of his mouth it just sounded wrong. I don’t doubt the honesty behind most his compliments. But still it was wrong. I wasn’t the one he was meant to tell these things. These were not compliments between friends. Stupidly enough I ignored them too. I admit that I still can’t tell to which extend I liked to hear these things. I was still talking to him, wasn’t I? Why?
Anyway the day came when he broke up with his girlfriend. I dedicated much time to him. Wasn’t this what friends did? I wanted him to be happy, I understood that he wouldn’t be for some time and that he wanted me to be there for him. I really did my best to be the friend that he needed.
But soon enough he showed me again that his intentions were of a different kind. I repeated what I had told him before, feeling like I was worsening his heartache.
Then shortly after I found out that he had lied to me about a few things. I was super pissed and I confronted him. No traps, no bullshit, I told him about the proof I had for his lies. Instead of him explaining to me why he had done so and solving the issue he turned the whole thing around. Again I was told what a bad friend I was and how he owed me no explanation whatsoever. My confronting him with this only proved how bad a friend I was and all this was none of my business anyway. Yes, somehow he managed to make himself look the victim. Followed by this he blocked me again. This time only for a shorter period. How the fuck we started talking again I can’t explain. But we did.
And I was back in the old circle of regular ups and downs in this relationship. It is crazy how much one can ignore on account of trying to prove a point. There were still moments when I honestly believed in our friendship.
But here we are … once again I was blocked and told I make an awful friend. This time after my inquisition if he felt like he was stuck in the friendzone with me. He did. I felt like I was standing between him and his happiness and told him as much. I suggested that if he needed to distance himself from me and our friendship to become happier he should do as much. I would step back if he needed me to. He told me I was being stupid and followed by this the same old story of me being a bad friend came up again.
When I saw that he had blocked me I felt …. Annoyed! And then I thought “So be it!” I had told him he could opt out of this after all. Sure, this had turned into something else, but the result was the same. I admit that when I suggested to end this friendship, it was not just for his good. A part of me wanted out. This friendship had become more of an obligation. And I could never live up to his idea of a friend. I gave and gave and gave and it was never enough. He had a reason to tell me I was a bad friend. Apparently in his eyes I am. But you know what? That’s ok.
There are so many people that I make a great friend to. There are people that appreciate me for who I am. And it is so fucking easy to be a friend to those people. I am not a bad person, neither is he. I am not a bad friend and neither is he. We just have different ideas of friendship. We shouldn’t change to live up to something that we can never be without being unhappy.
So, you people out there, I’ll leave you with that …