Why can't he just STOP?!

I just had the worst scare of my life. My stalker called again a few minutes ago. My phone was set so that no one but family and close friends can reach me, but since I'm awake, I saw the phone flashing. I shrugged it off, as I usually do, but I can't help but feel a little extra wary after I know he's just called, especially when I'm at my parents's house. I tend to listen closely for any indication of someone lurking around outside the house. Usually, I hear nothing but the usual creeks and squeaks of a nearly thirty year old house, the wind and sometimes the clothes line slowly revolving. I manage very well to freak myself out with those sounds, but tonight was different. I actually heard noises of someone trying to get in. I swear, my heart was close to jumping out of my chest and all I could think was 'oh my god, this is it, this is it, this is it.' I was so sure that he was outside, and I was about to come face to face with him. I was paralyzed. I literally had no idea what to do. I wanted to go wake my parents, but in order to do that, I had to exit my room, which is next to the back entrance, where I thought I heard him. But it was either that or just wait for him to come to me. So I mustered up all the courage I could find, jumped out of bed and opened my bedroom door.

IT WAS MY FUCKING SISTER, WHO I WAS ONE HUNDRED PERCENT SURE WAS ALREADY SLEEPING.

She apparently had trouble opening the bathroom door, and from inside my bedroom, that sounded like someone trying to open the back door. I don't think I've ever been so relieved to see her before in my life, and it just got to be too much for me. The mind-numbing fear, the thumping heart, the rapid breathing, the rush of relief to see a familiar face instead of a madman with a knife. I broke down crying, and I was shaking like crazy, so my sister stood hugging me for a good five minutes. She started crying too, 'cause I startled her, and then we just started laughing at the tears running down both our cheeks.

I really don't get it. It's been four and a half years now. And I haven't answered the phone in almost as long. But he still keeps calling, and I act all cool about it, but it freaks me out to the point where I'm afraid to go to sleep in my parents house. I don't want to tell my mom, because she will just start to blather about catching the guy again. Sure, I think it would be great if they could just find out who this guy is and make him stop calling me, but really? I have no faith in the possibility that that event will ever take place. The police just wants me to deal with this by changing my number, which just... misses the point entirely. It's not the fact that he calls that freaks me out. I can set my phone so that his calls don't wake me up. But I can't set my brain to ignore the knowledge that this person exists. I don't know who he is, or where he is. I don't even know if I have anything to be scared of. He could be a harmless jerk. He could be a crazy axe murderer just waiting for the right time to strike. He could be something in between. The only thing I know for sure is that he does exist, and that's the scariest part of this whole deal.

Old friends

I hung out with one of my oldest friends today. I met her when I was only 5-6 years old, and there was a time when we were thick as thieves. But life happens, and life has taken the two of us to live in two different cities for most of the years, so we rarely see each other. In fact, we didn't get a chance to get together this summer, so it's been over a year since I last saw her.

But the great thing about this old friend? If we'd had the opportunity, we'd still be thick as thieves. Years have passed since we hung out regularly, we're both very different from what we used to be, and we both have new friends, but no matter what happens, I'll always know that when we get together, all that disappears, and we can talk about anything. Which we do, with gusto, for hours and hours.

Winter wonderland

It arrived a few days late, but finally the world outside my window is white!

Spoiled rotten and loving it!

I had a good haul this year! I love my family and friends so much, and they're amazing gift buyers!

From my parents, I got a new computer, which I sorta asked for, but did not expect to get, because I thought it'd be to expensive. Of course, my parents told me that it's both this year's Christmas present and next year's birthday present, but I don't mind that at all. I have a new computer!

From my sister, I got a copy of The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, which I've always sort of wanted to read, because I hear they're good, but haven't really wanted to read because they don't really sound like my cup of tea. If I have a cup of tea. There's a good chance that I don't.

From my brother, I got a suitcase, which... I won't lie, I'm not too excited about. Yeah yeah yeah. I'm a materialistic bitch. Sue me. I like useful things, I do, and I have actually been contemplating buying a new suitcase because my old one ended up cracked. But I'm a child at heart, and I prefer to buy the useful things myself, so that I can get cool presents at Christmas. Though I suppose I have my friends for that.

Speaking of my friends... They were good this year. And coordinated! From ex-roommate number one, I got season one of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, which is one of the things that I specifically told them I wanted. In my gang, telling people what you want can be a double edged sword, because as ex-roommate #1 once so eloquently said it: "I don't want to buy you anything that you want!"

...

Obviously, she meant that she doesn't want to get me anything that I know I want, but this year, she was too lazy to figure out something clever to get me. As was ex-roommate #2, 'cause she got me season three of the same show, plus two Marlon Brando DVD's, 'cause she never got around to buying me a birthday present this year.

My best friend also forgot to get me a birthday present this year (apparently, July 26th is a very forgettable date...), so she too got me multiple presents. The first was season three of Deep Space Nine. Coordination? I like it. The second present from her, and my favorite present this year (apart from the computer...) was an anthology of Samuel Beckett's dramatic works. That's awesome with a side of fucking fantastic right there. The final present from her was David Malouf's An Imaginary Life, which I'm probably not going to be able to make heads or tails of, but she's going to talk my ear off about it, and then I'll end up loving it as well.

Then, from my cousin I got a box of chocolates (yum!) and a copy of a book called Dream Warrior by a woman named Sherrilyn Kenyon. I've never heard of it before, so I'm curious to read it and find out what it's like.

Finally, I got monies from distant relatives in Oslo. A lot of money! They have money coming out their ears, no grandchildren and only one daughter who makes a crapload of dough herself, so they like to spoil us instead. Which I have no objections to.

Oh, and I almost forgot, I got a DVD called 'What happens in Vegas' from a girl that... erm... I guess considers herself a friend of mine, but who I consider to be more of an acquaintance. Sure, I hang out with her from time to time, when the ex-roommates invite me over (they live with her now), but I don't think I'd ever hang out with her if it weren't for them. Anyway... the DVD seems to reflect the shallowness of our relationship quite well, seeing as it's starring Ashton Kutcher and Cameron Diaz, and it's about people that get drunk and married in Vegas. If I have a cup of tea, this is definitely not it.

But all in all, good haul this year!

Merry Christmas!

In Norway, we open presents on Christmas Eve. And I'm going to go ahead and let complaints about Christmas becoming so commercial be damned, and say that I can't wait for tonight! Presents!

Weight blindness

Seeing as I have a lot of time on my hands now that my exams are over, I've started to read a lot of blogs. In particular, I'm reading weight loss blogs, because that's what I'm preoccupied with at the moment. I've lost a lot of weight since last May, and I really want to keep going until I reach a weight that I'm comfortable with. Reading about other people's successes and failures is really motivating for me, though I don't think I'd ever be comfortable enough to do what they're doing, and put my "weight loss journey"* out in public. I don't want my own mother to know exactly what I weigh, so a bunch of strangers? Not happening.

Anyway.

As I've been reading these weight loss blogs, I've noticed something: I have absolutely zero talent for comparing the way my body looks to the way other people's bodies look. Zip! I'll be looking at a progress picture of someone and think "oh, she looks like she's about my size," only to find out that she's actually a hundred pounds heavier than me. That's kind of thought provoking.

Today has been eventful. Mildly speaking.

My mother and I went to the gym around one o'clock, and then after, I jumped into the hot tub while my mother prepared dinner. When I was done, I walked casually into the kitchen, and my mother was hunched over the stove in a very odd way. She said it was just gas, and that the tea she was drinking would help. But it didn't. So she asked me to keep an eye on our dinner while she went to lie down. By the time the food was done, she was still not feeling better. She was feeling worse actually, and it was starting to look pretty scary. She was on the floor, hunched over the couch, and very obviously in a lot of pain. So I went to sit by her and stroke her back. It instantly took me back to that day nearly three years ago, right after my mother had had her first round of chemo. It started almost exactly like this. The half hour it took to drive her to the hospital was the worst half hour I've lived through, and I was so relieved when we were finally there, and the doctors could give her a shot for a pain. And another one. And then it was over. But today, I was the only one in the house, and there wasn't really any reason for her to feel this badly.

I was sitting there, thinking over and over again "please don't die, please don't die, please don't die!" My mother is generally a suck-it-up kind of person, so seeing her in pain isn't something I've witnessed too many times, which makes it extra difficult when it does happen, because you know it's bad. Nothing we did seemed to help ease the pain. Because my mother has had her ovaries, her uterus and part of her bowel taken out due to cancer, she is a bit more susceptible to volvulus, which is what we were scared of when the pain didn't go away. She called the doctor's office, explained the symptoms, and they told her to come in right away. That didn't really help with that 'oh my god, my mommy's dying' feeling I had. But you can't think like that, you just need to do whatever needs doing. So I drove her to the doctor's office, and as we were driving, the pain finally subsided. It turned out to be just gas. Color me relieved! But sheez, I'll be totally fine with this never happening again.

More evidence for my hate affair with the fashion industry

My mother is having sinus surgery this coming Thursday, and today, she had to go to the hospital for a pre-surgery consultation. I had to buy my "sister-in-law"* a Christmas present, so even though she had plans to leave at 8:45 AM, I said I wanted to come. My mother gleefully agreed. Why so gleeful? It wasn't because she would get to enjoy my glorious company. I know. Shocker. Instead, she was gleeful because my presence would allow her to partake in one of her favorite activities of all time: picking out item after item after item of clothing that I tell her I don't like, then give me the look and say that I should try them on before passing judgment. She usually only gets to do this once a year, when I, once again, come home for Christmas without a single scrap of clothing that she deems worthy to wear when visiting relatives for Christmas festivities. So, needless to say, this is something she approaches with great vigor. Last Christmas, it ended in tears. Really.

As we were driving into the city, she mentioned casually that she wanted to go look at some digital cameras for my sister. Sure. Fine. Great. I wandered around the store for 30-40 minutes while she quizzed a very eager salesman of the pros and cons of a Nikon Coolpix and a Cannon... erm... something. In the end, she said she wanted to think about it, which is code speak for "call my husband and hear what he thinks I should do." And we left. But we didn't take the same short route back to the car. We crossed through the mall, and surprise surprise. We just happened to walk past a clothes store with some "cute" shirts on display outside. "Look, isn't this nice?" I looked. Raised my eyebrows. Told her I didn't like it. She told me to try it on anyway. I covertly rolled my eyes, and took the shirt from her to go find a dressing room. Protests are futile. Then, on my way to the dressing room, a stack of jeans caught her eye, and she caught one of the employee's eye. Suddenly, I had three pairs of jeans to try on, plus the original shirt, three other shirts, a tank top and a cardigan.

Don't you just love my mother?**

Of the four shirts I tried on, she bought two of them. You wanna guess what sizes these shirts were. The first was a perfectly reasonable medium. It was a bit loose around my shoulders, but a teeny tiny bit tight around my tummy. The second? A whopping XL, that fit... not quite snugly, but it was certainly not baggy either. What is up with that? Really?! Really?!

However, my mother also bought me a pair of jeans, which kinda sorta made up for the frustration with the enormous gap in the shirt sizes. Why? Because it's a size smaller than my smallest pair of jeans. Go me!

* She's not really my sister-in-law. Just my brother's girlfriend. They've been together for... erm... six-ish years now.

** My sister would probably love it if this happened to her. But it doesn't, 'cause she likes to shop for clothes herself, and because of that, she always has things to wear that won't embarrass my mother in front of relatives.

What to say when words are cheap?

My best friend's grandmother passed away today. Since we're generally more of a silly, fun-loving, ever joking twosome, it's hard to know what to say to her. When my own grandmother passed away nearly five years ago, while I was still in the States, there was nothing anyone could say. There still isn't. I still miss her and wish things could be different somehow. I'm sure my best friend feels the same.

But I still wish there was something I could do to make it better.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

My exams are TOTALLY over now. Like WHOA. OMG OMG OMG OMG! I feel blissful. And kinda giddy.

What's more? I think I might actually have done well on both my exams. I saw the questions and I KNEW what to write. I didn't have to doodle for an hour hoping that an association would just come to me.

Like I said. Blissful. And giddy.