Ida #15 Burfdei

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I spent the first 6 hours working on my article, then sending it to the supervisor, and then getting it back with the old usual "what are you THINKING"-kind of message. That made me a bit sad. I talked to my family. That made me happy. I got a cake. Happy. Someone shove it up my face. Happy/Sad (see photo). Spent lots of hours in bed watching Big Love. Happy but sort of depressed too. Sent a message to the person I thought was my best friend here. No reply. Sad. Message from Miguel. Happy. Went to his bar, got free drinks and cake. Happy. Got drunk. Happy. A guy who has fallen in love with me came to talk to me. Uncomfortable. He said he is planning to kill himself. More uncomfortable. He asks me for the keys to my apartment. I say no. He starts to beg. Uncomfortable. I eventually give him the keys. Really really uncomfortable. Goes with Miguel and his collegues for a party. Drinks tequila and sings my favourite songs the whole night. Very happy. Goes home. Manages to put the roof on the taxi (one the inside) on fire with the lighter. Ashamed. Other person still in my apartment. He drank all my alcohol. Angry. He gets angry when I tell him to leave. Angry/Scared. He really really refuses to leave. Scared. He gets a knife and says he is gonna kill himself in my apartment. Scared. Trying to leave, he wont let me. He has the knife. More scared. Crying. Goes to the toilet, sends a message to Miguel who says he is gonna come. Really scared. Manages to get out from my apartment, no shoes on but a guy with a knife following me, trying to drag me into the apartment again. Scared/crying. A neighbour sees it and eventually the other guy leaves. I go to my apartment, waits for Miguel. The other guy comes back. He shows me that he has my keys. More scared. Then he comes back again. Gives me the keys. Still scared. Miguel comes. Takes me to his bar again. I drink margaritas and feel sorry for myself. I go home, I sleep 14 hours. Bought new locks for myself as a birthday present. Might add a stun-gun too.

My life is so fucking exciting. Happy birthday to me!

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Ida#8 Top 4 romantic moments

1. Somewhere in the Amazonia and it was the middle of the night, with the sounds of the rainforest only sometimes interrupted by the electric generator. Everyone who has been in the rainforest knows that the night is black black black. I am sitting by a table next to a candle with the most beautiful guy I know in front of me and we play staring-at-eachother-games until his nose touches mine and we kiss and it is so fucking beautiful and perfect I want to go out and kick down a tree or hit him or something.
The adrenalin in the stomach was just ridiculous. Like a fucking joke. Anyway, that would be top one on the list.

2. New years eve in Stockholm and I have just met the guy who would be by secret love for a really long time. Every move we make are synchronized and every sentence we say is followed by a “really? I am the same!”. He kiss me and I have my back against a wall and the kisses are just the best and we are out of breath and I am dizzy with happiness and every time we stop he leans forward and says “Abstinence” and kiss me again. We do not move from that wall for 3 hours.
After that we went home and had a weird moment with 2 other naked people in the room. We had sex though. It was fun.

3. Another forest-situation, this time in Mexico. I have finished working with the monkeys and me and G are walking back to the car, which we have parked in the end of the road. As we walk, the howler monkeys start singing behind us and he turns around and says that the rain is coming, and just like in a film the rain comes behind us like a really fast curtain. He ask if I want to see the lake so we walk up a small hill to watch Laguna Catemaco from up top plus with shit weather. As we walk back he is laughing because I laugh at the rain, and he says that I am crazy and I say yes but charming and he turns around and kiss me. I almost fall down from the surprise but sure why not make out with a hot Mexican Crocodile Dundee in the rain on a hill?
Moment of death of “moment”: I say “But you have a wife?”

4. Me and the former apple of my eye are in a park in Stockholm. I was in so fucking in love with him but disguised it behind the old “hey just friends”-attitude. Suddenly it starts raining. Yes, it rains like crazy in the rainforest, but a good Swedish summer-rain is not that far behind. We hide under some trees with other people but it takes about 2 seconds before the trees are no good as shelter anymore. He takes his hoodie and holds it over his head, covering both of us. I have to stand close enough for my breasts to touch his chest and now and then our hips touch as we are trying to balance plus keeping the Swedish distance. I can smell his skin and perfume and it makes me weak in my knees. I just think “I should kiss him, or please kiss me please” all the time. He don’t move. I don’t move. We don’t say anything. And then the rain stops and my heart shatters into at least 10 pieces as we just take off joking about music or cars or something.

I was planning for it to be 5 but the rest of the romantic memories are gone with the wind right now as I am lying in my cold apartment (whats up with living in Mexico and being cold most of the time?) in a jumper that smells of a guy who was kind enough bring it, trying to sleep. Ithink it was the fact that I got so upset about the lack of romance in my life right now, or maybe the anger about not being with any of the above guys right now. Oh well! Later skaterz.

Ida # 2 Freak_Girl_85@mail.com

First thing: Last week I ended up on a AA-meeting. I live in a small Mexican town called Catemaco, where I am doing my research (I am a biologist) and, well, my friend Miriam has a boyfriend who is in the AA and I went with her to pick up her 3-year-old (who was at the meeting with her father). As we came to the AA-house, Miriam said “come on lets get in!” and I was like “With the alcoholics? Really?” (always thought that the AA-meeting was kinda private). There were around 10 people there, only 1 woman. I was a little bit nervous, but they gave me a cigarette and we started to talk, I was talking fast and moved my hands a lot, I talked about my investigation, about the monkeys I am studying, about being Swedish in Mexico, about being Swedish in Sweden. Finally I asked politely: so why did you end up in Catemaco? The guy I am talking to, Manuel, smiles at me, takes a deep breath, and:
“I was an alcoholic.”
“….”
I can feel how my heart is sinking a little bit. I have problems handling private confessions, don’t like other peoples feelings, and here is a stranger who feels like sharing addiction-secrets? Please God, save me.
But there is nothing to do but to smile and ask him more, I mean, what kind of person would I be if I was not there for a lamb that got lost from the big herd but now has returned? Shaken, but with a growing interest, I listen to his stories about being homeless in San Fransisco, going to jail, loosing his family.
“Alcohol made that to me”, he explains. We are silent for a while, there is no need for words.
Then he asks me if I like to dance.
“Yeah! But only when I am drunk!”
(No need to further explain the weird silence that followed on this statement. I left not long after that.)

Second thing: I am invited to a wedding. Miguel who invited me is the cousin of the guy getting married, and I really like Miguel, so I was trying to look cute and make a good impression. After the food we go up to the newly-weds. Miguel introduces me and the groom grabs my hand and makes a little attempt to kiss me on the cheek. However, I hate being kissed on the cheek and I am never able to make a smooth move towards the other persons cheek because I feel so uncomfortable, I tend to do a rapid attack-movement instead, scaring the other person, or ending up at the ear or the nose. So with the groom, I chose not to kiss him, leaving him mid-air with his cheek waiting for my lips. The second I decide to kiss him anyway, he of course have already turned around, making this introduction a stupid little dance of short robot-movements. Anyway, he smiles, just married, he is so happy and proud of his wife. “We are so glad that you could be here with us”, he says. Ida, “freakgirl”, smiles at him, and then says in a high-pitched voice that sounds nothing like me “yeahyeahthanksandthefoodwasawesome” and then… rub my stomach, and then…. take off. My only chance of talking to the couple, and I manage to be Rob Schneider rather than Blair Waldorf.

Third thing: after the wedding we go to a sort-of-party in Miguels aunts house and I am gonna say goodbye to parts of the family before going home and happily walks in front of the fan. My dress blows up and shows my underwear to everyone. Since it takes me like 3 seconds to react, everyone gets a good look as well.

Sum-up of the week:
1. making a fool out of myself at an AA-meeting
2. acting like a homeless brute at the wedding instead of oozing finesse.
3. Giving Miguels family a full-frontal view of my knickers.

Gotta love being me.

Aleksandra # 1 - Why do you cry, is there something in your eye?

- Nej, jag har bara inte hunnit supa mig själv medvetslös ännu. Jag har gjort det igen, jag var en hopplös, jävla optimist som gav dig en andra chans och nu vill jag skjuta mig i självförakt. Besvikelsen över att bli besviken igen, jag som bara vill vara god och glad och ta livet med en klackspark istället för blanda vin med vodka och förbanna dagen du föddes på.

Jag skyllde min smärta på kärlek, gav upp min frihet och självrespekt i kärlekens namn och såg inte det omöjliga. Jag jämförde oss med Carrie och Big. Jag led fastän du faktiskt aldrig bad mig om det och fastän kärlek inte kräver sådana uppoffringar, men jag hade sett för många tv-serier. Jag var dum. Mea culpa.

Men det är slut med sånt nu. Det finns begränsningar av vad man kan uppnå med ren viljekraft. Jag har insikstfullt beslutat mig för att inte höra av mig, för jag

a. vill inte vara kär i någon som inte bryr sig om mig.
b. hoppas att du gillar mig tillräckligt för att höra av dig så småningom.

Får inte ligga med varje kille som skriver dikter till min ära. En man som krossar mitt hjärta är inte nödvändigtvis en lovande poet.

Jag kanske borde åka bort. Ovanför molnen skiner alltid solen. Jag kommer inte tillbaka förrän jag vet varför jag grät. Kärleken vill inte att man gråter i dess namn.

IDA #1 I always knew I was gonna fall in love with you

Ok, forget about the cheesy title for this post. But really, I always knew that one day, I would fall in love with him and here I am. I have a heart that is very likely to betray me by always getting, should we say, a little bit too involved with the bad ass guys, the player guys, the ones that leave you staring into space at night and wonder what went wrong this time? The bad guys that are always so sweet in the beginning, and you think “wonderful, oh, he makes me so happy, he is sweet and oh oh oh how I love his kisses and the random textmessages where he claims that he misses me” and you have some sex with him and you hold hands sometimes and you get drunk together and when he touches your back “just to see where the most sensitive parts are” you close your eyes and you once again feel at home and you can feel your inside relax and even though a little voice in your head is telling you not to, you let yourself let go. And then the weeks pass and…. well, you find yourself in the same old position again. Listening to sad songs, staring into space. Missing his every footstep on the floor, how he breathes on your ear, how you watch the sun rise with him, how the sweat is pooling in your bellybuttons one sunday morning/afternoon when you stay in some bed somewhere under a way too warm duvet the whole day and laugh and kiss and have sex and bite each other in the shoulder. Yeah, anyway, those guys are the ones that really speak to my heart. And yeah, anyway, I find myself in a way too familiar position. And I am like, oh my god, bloody fucking heart, why cant you fucking stop it. Please stop it. Stop feeling it. It makes me so goddamn tired.

Home-made cure for forgetting:
Drink 15-pesos-tequila until you black out
Have sex with his friend (no judging here please, all is fair in love and war right?)
Smoke and stare into space and listen to every song that reminds you of him
Drink the vodka in your fridge (mixing it with something is for pussies, drink it pure for the best “I hate myself-feeling”) and cry and curse your heart and the way it seems to work against you not with you
Have sex with the friend again

Do not:
Ask him to meet you 7 times and get the answer “no” all the time without getting the hint

God, I look at this and I feel so pathetic. I feel like a 14-year old. I feel like bloody Bridget Jones minus the happy ending. I feel like that but its pretty fair because I always knew I was gonna fall in love with him, because I know my heart, and because I know what makes it pound faster, and yeah, yeah, he was all of that from the beginning to the relatively bitter end.

This is a new blog so I guess that the first post is like a presentation. My first post pretty much pictures me as a sobbing alcoholic promiscuous person with a faiblesse for getting my heart broken by bad guys with spirits made of stone. Hi, my name is Ida.