about food, about hunger

The Blogs of Note series proved surprisingly nourishing today. Food for thought served by:

1) Mila's Daydreams
How useful a little baby can be! The mother's project is so incredible that it made me think it had to be a photo-montage at first. It's extremely inventive and fabulous. I think if I saw myself as a baby on pictures like these I'd feel weird, though.

2)Loopy Boopy Art Doll
Quite scary at first, but when you have a closer look it actually proves beautiful, mysterious and sophisticated. Just like human beings. Plus the author seems a gifted writer. The blog might turn my new fav.

3) Hyperbole and a Half
It caught my eye 'cause it looked like a twin project to Natalie Dee's. It's kinda brilliant.

4) Wait in the Van
I'm not sure what the blog is all about, but I'm determined to find out as there's some wacky energy to it.

All the content is more than refreshing, yet Internet has ceased to be enough to me. It's people I need. Colorful, laughing, talking, moving people. Drinking, smoking, dancing people. Story tellers. Today I haven't seen any familiar face for the first time since Tuesday, August 21st. And I definitely did not have the need to take a rest from them.

I need my family of friends. Constantly.

Tomorrow I'm going to my parents' place for a long weekend, though everything inside me wants to stay. If it wasn't for the fact that the few people I adore have left Warsaw, too, I guess I'd skip the long awaited doc appointment, make something up, I don't know, anything, just to stay. Ma and Pa are great. It's just that they don't know.

So in this whole lot of mess I'm trying hard to keep myself occupied. Two guys come to my place twice a week and I teach them English [so good nobody reads this blog, otherwise I'd run a risk some native speaker would drop dead at this point]. They're a year older than me and study political science. Both of them quite funny. Men seem just too often funny to me. I love women. I can only love women. And my father. And R., my dear old male friend, who's awesome, all the way.

But yes, I keep myself busy also translating for the Foundation. I guess it's something I can really be good at.

I've also composed a birthday gift for M.

I know it's nothing of a piece of art, but I still like it.

And then I've also made a photo album, all by myself. It felt like preparing a gift for myself. A consolation.

It contains my spring and summer photos: B.'s birthday party, Easter, two spring weekends (one with M. and one with my parents), the week at the seaside with Her and finally the Austrian shots. These were most intense, hectic and, well, happy seasons, which gave me loads of new experiences. I'm actually exhausted, but there's no way I'd want my life to slow down. Quite the opposite.

Oh dizzy is how I feel. Late nights, late mornings, days too short. Yearning yearning yearning.
I drink, smoke, eat too much. I've decided to quit smoking though. This time for real. Maybe.

Last night I finished off the short [v. short] story about Her. It made me understand a few things, like, what it really means that She's the star of the sea, the sailor, the ocean. I can talk my head off together with my friends trying to think of thousands of ways to help Her out, but the truth is we'll always stand on the shore while She's gone to the sea and only She can decide whether I'm still a part of Her story or not. It's not about acknowledging Her dominance. It's about respecting Her nature. And hoping She won't drown in the endless sea of vodka. My little drunk sunshine on drugs. My batty queen of extremes.
At times I only want to beg Her to let us forget about all the mess and just have fun together like we used to.

A new girl, the third flat mate, moves in on Saturday. I'm scared - frightened – terrified.