Poland uses veto power.

Last night I couldn’t sleep, and I decided to write a blog to fill my time. It was posted at around three in the morning, and by five, Patryk had sent me a message requesting that I remove a large portion of it from public eye. My first reaction was that of bitter resentment. Who the hell was he? Why should it matter what I write, even if it does concern him? But this thought was irrational. If he doesn’t want me writing things that involve him it is completely understandable. But he and I already had this conversation of boundaries. I asked him if it was a problem to write certain things. He told me it was fine, and should write anything I wanted to, and people who read it and didn’t like it would just have to deal with it.

This is the second point of contention my blog has created in our relationship. A mutual friend mentioned something about my blog in front of Patryk. He felt betrayed. He had been unaware that I even had a blog, let along people who read it. (hi mom!) He felt that I was leading, in his words, “some kind of double life.” But that was just momentary, and he began reading it, and every time I did something stupid, he would suggest it as a good blog entry. Bastard. But he made it clear he cared not what I wrote, and enjoyed that I had a new activity with which to employ my time. That is until last night.

So my boyfriend vetoed last night’s entry. Fine. Understandable. Not what we had agreed upon, but I am reasonable. Since you have removed one of my entries, now you must replace it with one of your own. This is your challenge: within one week from today, (1-26-07, 19:50 GMT-8) you must write your own blog to replace the one you have taken from me. So, my darling Patryk, if you fail to comply within the time given, the origional blog will be reposted.

And this time, the US holds veto power.

the bravery of men.

One of my roommates car broke down. So the men in the house helped him push the car up the icy driveway and into the garage so it could be worked on. That is all of the men, save the boy who lives in the closet. (not the metaphorical closet, but the actual closet in the house which he rents for $100 a month.)

Now, I know absolutely nothing about cars. Well, I am not a complete idiot, but fairly close. I can jump start, and change tires, and I know about electricity. I would never consider myself knowledgeable about vehicles, and I would sooner repair my own car as I would rewire a microwave. In both cases I fear more danger of wounding myself or others than I fear any slight on the pride of the manly Mr. Fix-it that I am. So I helped the boys push the car in place then went inside, mentioning that I would help again if unskilled labor was required.

Two hours later I returned to see how things were progressing, and discovered that unskilled labor was the only labor to be had. My knowledge of cars was by no means below par. With a beer in hand, the repairs were conducted by hooking up jumper cables to an already running car, and looking to see where it would make the most smoke. To make it stop smoking, one only needed to hit it a few times (whatever it was) with a monkey wrench to see if it helped. If it didn’t, then the crow bar was used to pry something. More smoke, or sparks meant to stop what you were doing, and pull on or tighten wires.

By the end of the night the carbon monoxide in the garage was a level suggesting departure. It was perfect timing because now the car wouldn’t smoke or spark. It just wouldn’t start. So we decided it was the battery, then went inside.

return to OR, or, dependably co-dependent.

On myspace, I changed the account location from Eastern Europe to Oregon. What I find interesting is that it automatically changed my height from centimeters into inches, but did not change the local time. What this means for my loyal readers (hi mom!) is that I am back in Portland.

Yes that’s right my friends! I am once again unemployed and living in PDX. Hopefully I will find a job soon, but in the mean time I have discovered an important fact about myself: I need a hobby. I enjoy photography very much, but darkroom costs are not something I want at the moment. Besides, the need for a hobby stems from the fact that I need something social. Once again, my severe case of co-dependence overwhelms me. I want someone to entertain me, and with Patryk on the other side of the pond, he is not able to fill the roll.

This is a common problem with my family. Co-dependence. My sister Allie solved this problem by getting married this New Years Eve. (cheers!) They are both co-dependent, like myself, and find happiness in each other. Always on the others’ hip, Ryan and Allie are content as two content things in close proximity. This Ryan/Allie combination, I now dub Rallie, in the grand tradition of creating one irritating appellation out of two otherwise pleasant forenames.

My other sister Lauren copes with her co-dependence in a different way. She ops for finding a counterpart in science-fiction television. Whenever she needs company she plops in a DVD of her tv show. In one year she has gone through all 11 seasons of Stargate SG1, the entire Firefly series, the entire Farscape series, and is now onto Stargate Atlantis. This solves the immediate problem with dependence, but I fear to tread into this world. I have seen what happens when she makes it through all of the available episodes without a new series to go to. Plus, the fanfiction community is full of weirdos.

So I brace myself, and try to tell myself that unrequited co-dependence is good for my character. Even reading is not the same without someone in the house. There is something comforting about reading a good book with Patryk in the background cooking naked. Well to be honest, he only cooked naked once, and that was by special request. (hi mom!)