waiting and waiting

Along with worrying and whining I'm waiting. Waiting for something good, waiting for life to begin again, waiting for one of these fucking increasingly rare and far between mostly crappy opportunities to actually work out, waiting for this heat to break into a full violent storm which perfectly illustrates my life at the moment and whether the breaking of the oppressive, stifling heat or the wild and destructive storm is the more fitting metaphor remains to be seen...

waiting for these kittens to come out!

You may remember, about a week ago, I posted about some new visitors. These visitors are kittens, born on a crazy night, next to me in my bed and then moved upstairs to the loft next door. I mean, not next door next door, the little upstairs bit of the other room which is now off limits to humans. So that's where they are. It was decorated with blankets and a mattress on the side by the wall in anticipation of her needing a place to give birth, and the blanket off my bed was added, so they're very cozily situated somewhere up there.

Everything calmed down a few days after they were born, Cecily stopped being so aggressive and attacking man human feet and we're able to go near the door of that room or right in the room without getting growled at.

We waited. Left mummy cat to it, and didn't think so much about the kittens, tucked up their, in their little attic. Heard little mews occasionally, very occasionally, a few times I was worried because I didn't hear anything, then I heard a bit of something, then I didn't hear anything for ages and I'd worry, then I did again, and then I didn't hear anything for 2 days.. and well, this went on.

They're just over a week old now, and until half an hour ago and hadn't definitely for sure heard anything from up there that is definitely a little baby cat, but then I did, so I know there are kittens. Or at least a kitten. And I think they know where they are, she has them tucked way away all securely, more than I thought they were which may explain why I can't see them (even when I very naughtily climbed the steps almost to the top of the loft which I really shouldn't do) or hear them very often, but the point is, they're already a week old! Kittens don't take that long to grow? When are they gonna poke out? When are they gonna start running around and playing when are they going to let us play with them? When can I get some photos of them?

I want my kittens!

not much to report on

so, I'd write but, as usual, there's nothing to say.

I feel a lot, but none of that is very interesting, or it might be to some limited demographic who like that sort of thing or at least, find that interesting, if I were to go into enough detail to make it all make enough sense in order for those sorts of people to offer any sort of useful advice, which, if I am not mistaken, and I don't think that in this case I am, is what makes personal, pouring one's heart out to the public, introspective, cry for help type writing attractive to them.

That is just one sentence there, in case you were wondering, take that Jane!*

I might write a blog post that's entirely made of one sentence one day, there's a goal to aim for. It's good to have goals, it helps when there's really not much else. In fact, maybe it's the lack of goals that's making me feel so whatever it is I am. I did 100 videos and then I decided I would alter the project in that I don't really have any sort of mission anymore I just kind of intend to do sort of regular videos. It's not the same. And the other stuff I was doing er.. yeah, whatever stuff it was. I'm not doing anymore, though I have all the time in the world, seeing as I'm not doing anything else.

The not doing anything isn't really a huge problem for me, in and of itself, not to the extend it would be for normal people. I can spend an awful lot of time doing not much at all, and very little is enough to make me sort of fulfilled at least as fulfilled as I'd be doing way more, but it's the not getting paid and wondering where I'm going to get money from and the feeling of doom that bothers me you see. And a feeling of uselessness. I don't much like feeling that there is no point to me at all, which is increasingly becoming abundantly clear.

Yes, those things bother me. I expect I'll spend the next days somewhere between a bit of to a lot of a funk, to successfully distracting myself with content accessed from the internet and feelings of something that resembles hope but isn't really but is enough like it to make it look like there's a possibility of change. Or something else. I might write about it.

*Austen, for reasons an educated person should understand so I shan't explain.

Speaking of milestones

I done 100 of these.


 I'm not sure I was talking of milestones, was I. Well here's one I mean there's one.

update: I didn't really do 100 videos as I accidentally left out #74, so this video is my 99th video. It's a sham!

update of update: I have now done 100 videos.

I think I done it.

I haven't yet, but assuming I will put an adequate number of words in this entry arranged in a manner that generally pleases me enough to hit post before the computer freezes up the electricity goes out or I die, or any other calamity that may befall me that would for any reason prevent me from posting whatever bit of writing I will end up with, I will have done it.

I will have 17 posts for this month, equal to the number I did in the entirety of last year. Of course if I don't count the photos, shameless links to videos and other posts which otherwise are devoid of any wordy content, I'm not quite there yet. If I'm not going to include the ones which are all made of words but nevertheless devoid of subject, quality, themes, that sort of thing.. I might be a while.

I'd have a drink except I don't have a drink.

And more guests arrive.

A few days ago I posted about a house guest we have, and mentioned we'd be having a few guests joining her pretty soon.

Well they're here. They arrived in the wee hours of the morning yesterday (? Saturday night so Sunday morning about 3:00, and 4:00) next to me in my bed.

It wasn't expected at all, she'd not done any of the stuff a cat is supposed to do in the 24 hours before giving birth though she was behaving oddly all day, and kind of vicious at times.

So that night, after watching some telly and turning everything off, I'm lying there with the at beside me, something she never did, jump up on the bed to join us, but she's lying there and the sounds start becoming weird, little mews and thorough cleaning. Eventually I realized yep, she's had kittens. She had 2, and then when I got up to see about but not do anything at all about a drip in the bathroom she seemed to get frazzled and confused and wanted to move her 2 kittens to the loft thingy in the other room, seeing as, a human's bed where she sleeps, not an ideal place. She moved 2, and then she went back to the bed to have another kitten. We were all in her way and freaking out because she looked all confused and trying to help her but she was kind of, viciously insanely psychotic, which didn't make it an easy night. She stayed on the bed cleaning for ages as we pleaded with her to go to her babies, then she went up and and came back and was back and forth scratching and biting out feet when the mood took her.. it wasn't an easy night.

Anyway they're now about 2 days old and she seems to have calmed down. They're living upstairs so I haven't really seen them since she moved them, though I hear a little squeaky mew every now and again, and she's going up there for some reason so I like to believe they're all ok.

Anyway, in case you wondered what was knew around here.

Festival Schmestival

Did I tell you that I live on the coolest street in Prague? Well I do. At least that's what some magazine or whatever said. The whole area is becoming more cool every day, and more expensive, ordinary schlubs like me are being slowly pushed out. This building is being fixed up and we're expected to pay for it, and I don't mean just by having to listen to the construction going on.

Anyway, this super cool street has a festival every year in May on a Saturday and this is the day. People, music, food and drink stands, dogs barking at the horror of being surrounded by so much noise and people, that sort of thing. I'm just not feeling it. When you have no friends and no money it's all a bit, well annoying. I did go down there for a while, but more for anthropological and documenting purposes than actually being a part of it. There's too many people, and if there's a halfway decent band going on the crowds watching in what is a quite narrow street make it impossible to pass. I mean you can pass, but it's a pain in the ass. So here I am, on my own, being grouchy. I think this is all I have to look forward to.

sometimes I feel like I'm drowning

not literally of course, and metaphorically either, to be honest. I mean, I'm not saying I never feel overwhelmed by stuff, bogged down, like I'm losing everything, worried, and anxious, and doomed. I do quite often, very often, and it's entirely unremarkable that I'm experiencing those feelings at the moment. Hmm, I guess that's what the metaphor means, cliched though it is.

Mostly it's an excuse to post the photo.

Back to the drawing board.

I really hate the drawing board. I'm so sick of it, give me something else already! But it doesn't matter what I do, I keep getting sent back. I'm stuck here, I might as well make myself comfortable. Put some cushions about, stick up pictures up because this is where I am.

Is it to much to ask for something to work out? Yeah it's demoralizing to get just ignored, and it pisses me off to get rejected after one correspondence, and to be offered an interview just to get the sorry, but reply afterwards,  to do a rigorous test after a successful interview just for it to turn into sorry but, after all, to pass a test, sign fucking contract and other papers, and then not hear anything and then it turns out you're on the database or there's some other round or some such other incomprehensible rubbish.

I don't like it when they ignore me, and I don't like it when they keep getting back to me for more rounds, I'm so fucking hard to please, I mean, what do I want?

Well glad you asked, what I'd like is for it all to fucking come to something. To get to the end and fucking succeed. To get fucking paid for fucks sake. Is it too much to fucking ask? I'm asking you here because I'm starting to think that I'm being unreasonable in expecting to be treated as a generally (at least kind of) worthy person who's capable of doing a fucking simple job for a bit of fucking money for fucks fucking sake.

I'm slightly peeved.

I hate conditionals.

Hate them. I mean what the fuck are they/is it/one? Is it a sentence, or part of one or whatever not my problem... and why do you have a number zero I mean, make up your mind. And modals, who the fuck cares, and what a stupid word. Who wants to get bogged down with those kinds of details, once I hear the word "modal" I'm like "Michelle is bored" and Michelle zones out.

I admit to being somewhat partial to gerunds though. Gerunds I can handle.

*doesn't mention anything about participles because this is a family blog*

*not really but still*

House guest

This is Cecily, she's staying with us. She's pregnant so we will be having a few more house guests some time soon.

No robot soy

That means I'm not a robot, translated to Czech to Spanish to French to German to English. In that exact order, or perhaps a slightly different one. Seriously though, blogger, not a robot, I told you already.

kay

More work for me to do.

I realize I made an error when I was posting my mission statement. I said I wrote 16 posts last year. I was wrong, it was 17. Totally dumb of me as it was written right there on the sidebar, where I saw it initially and was given this (admittedly unremarkable) idea.

Perhaps I remembered generally seeing it and melting the number of the year with the number of posts, I think that may be it. Anyway I was wrong and I must correct it. It is my mission to write at least 17 posts this month of May, 2017. I might just achieve it having written 8 already, and 9 if this one gets finished. Less if I only include those with actual written content and not just photos or links to videos. Less still if I only count ones that are in some way, even slightly worth banging out on a computer. If was to restrict it to those I've made some effort to write something creative in some way then I might be able to count 2. And posts with an actual subject is only one. Those with both a subject and effort put in come to 0 I'm afraid so I can't be that rigorous when counting what I write over this month. What the actual criteria are in order to succeed in this mission will be made up as I go along.

Apologies for repetition and redundancies, run on sentences and errors. I don't usually apologize for those because usually I don't have an excuse for them but today I'm tired. Not enough sleep. Fortunately I don't have anywhere I have to be, or anything I need to do, which is good when you're woken up at 8 or 9 or 7 in the morning by drilling or hammering or whatever they're doing in that flat after going to sleep when it was already blue, not so good for getting paid. I'm working on that but the world seems to be against me for the moment.

Oh I wasn't about to become all serious or anything..

or substantial. I wasn't about to start having regular posts about subjects, important stuff, world affairs or anything. nah, did it once, that'll do me for.. a while. It's back to me me me, moaning, and being silly.

 

 and shameless self promotion of my crappy videos.

I'm not being falsely modest here, they are pretty crappy, in fact I think they're getting worse, all of them could have a slightly higher quality if I spent just a little more time with editing and going back and reshooting when something isn't quite right but I just can't be assed. And really, the effort it would take to do that extra, minimal as it may be, wouldn't translate into enough of an overall improvement in the aggregate (again I think I'm using that word, whatever it really means, entirely inaccurately, but I still want to use it) to make it worth it. And no one watches them anyway which is fine really, it would be kind of embarrassing if people did.

We might be in with a chance.

The rain falls as the weekend rolls along. Today is Den vítězství or Liberation or Victory Day, the day we celebrate kicking the nazis out on their asses at the end of WWII. It used to be celebrated on the 9th, to commemorate the day the Red Army showed up to liberate/help with the process of liberating, but they changed it in 1989 to suit the new politics of the time. Along with other nations, also celebrated in France, and they, in a manner entirely appropriate for the holiday and time of year, as well as for being basic decent humans, voted against electing a far right nationalist in their recent election. I quite approve. So good on em. Could this just mean the trend is broken? Might we not be quite doomed yet? Time can only tell, but take note rest of world, please don't fuck up now.

Stuck in the middle of nothing.

It's another long weekend here in a string of long weekends. It makes not much difference to me, in my room on my computer, except that I wait longer for the world to turn back on.

Longer to not know what is to become of me. Just when I thought I was out of the woods. Not that I know what's so bad about the woods, I think the woods are quite nice, but I suppose that they traditionally
have wolves and other predators that I'd be better off keeping a safe distance from, so I should get out of them. I tried, and I thought I'd succeeded but, to inject other oft used metaphor, I counted my chickens which were very close or seemed about to hatch. They didn't, I mean they might still but it's taking time.

Really it was too good to be true, I succeeded in no less than 3 things in quite a short amount of time, with other opportunities in the background, which turned out not to work out, but by the time I knew that I had a few other notches under my belt (sorry, I think that one is both inappropriate and incorrect as well as being overkill) so I was able to throw off a couple of rejections with a pragmatic shrug. I got lazy (not a huge deviation for me) and didn't scour the internet for more opportunities with quite the gusto I had been, because well, I didn't need to anymore.

And now I sit here, waiting, wondering if any of it will actually turn into anything. I have anywhere between one and 6 jobs, if you include stuff that I've done and could do but probably won't again very soon, stuff that I do occasionally, stuff that I might do occasionally if I get lucky, something I did and thought I'd be invited to do again sooner than the time between then and now, 2 things I've negotiated and communicated about but haven't done yet and... that's it really. And the one that I most confidently say I have, that's not a sure thing.

So who knows. I could be doomed. It sounds bad but I've been doomed before and I seem to have survived it.

Splash of Colour

I assure you, that I am most certainly, under no circumstances, a robot.

I may have some characteristics in common with what is generally thought of as a robot. I walk upright, I have hands, I speak English. I'm even able to solve problems, and the odd equation, all on my own without any extra technology. However... I'm not a robot. Despite being upright I have a soft, squishy sort of form, which bleeds when pricked, and needs food for fuel. I speak in lilting, uneven tones, and well, to be honest, to solve any more than the most simple of equations takes me time and usually some help. I like music, I cry, I breathe. Basically I'm an organic being. A sentient kind of the genius homo and the subspecies homo sapien sapien. I had to look that up in order to be certain I'd get it right, and not look stupid. That is very uncharacteristic of a robot for at least 3 different reasons.

Now you (that is the universal "you") know. And specifically blogger, the site I am writing on now, on the blog created by and signed in with password by me, this non robot human person. I've given ample evidence for myself not being a robot, so you don't have to keep asking me.. kay? Oh and by the way, even if I was, then it's still my blog and as already mentioned I already signed in so, trust me, I'm me.

Glad we settled that.

My mission.

I'm here to write about writing, for what else would I write about? Well, stuff, hopefully, but not yet.

Last year, the year of our Lord 2016 I wrote a total of 16 posts. For the whole year. This year has been more productive as far as the blog goes, and I think I've passed last year's total already, possible did about a month ago, so there's not much to aim for with that, but one thing I can do is aim to beat last year's total in one month. I'm not going to promise to post every day of this month, I'm already doing that with the video thing, and that's full of useless filler videos with the occasional somewhat thought out and time consumingly edited useless cheesy video and I don't need quite so much of that in written form, so I'll go with about half of that. I will write at least 16 times during this month of May, 2017.

That's all I wanted to say.

Productiveness

I plan to write. One may say well, yeah, what's the blog for, and yes of course, in this here blog, as well as posting photos and occasional video, I write. I don't write a whole lot, and even with that it would not be incorrect to say that the stronger point of the blog is with quantity, as opposed to quality. As the quantity isn't really all that strong a point.. you see where I'm going.

I'd like to write more good, that's a clear thing, but to write good, just like with doing everything else good, you got to practice, so that's what I'm doing. No need to read, just like there's no need to watch my videos much for the same reason, but I'm gonna write all the same. I'll keep going until I get good, and hopefully will inspire myself and actually have subjects and stuff, sound knowledgeable, inject some wit, lie awake at night coming up with something brilliant, word for word and then write it up the next day having forgotten most of the words but nevertheless, it's there.

Until I get to that point, you gotta put up with a lot of drivel. Or don't, doesn't really matter.

Happy May

It's a holiday again. The first day o' May, and I was working all day. Ok ok, don't fall off your chair, I was really working. Real hard type work, standing serving people, making sandwiches and stuff. Well just sandwiches, and only partially making them. Taking money, ringing the thing into the thing even though I didn't know what people ordered most of the time. Apparently I did ok, I felt I was flustered and floundering and forgetful, which I was but first day yanno. This might be a thing I could be doing semi regularly, along with teaching, proofreading, acting sometimes even and modelling. Yes, I'm a model, did I tell you that? Not a real one, don't be silly, just one who gets her kit off for an art class. It's something, and it's money.

Between the lot of them, or at least between the ones that have some chance of continuing and being done with some regularity, along with whatever else might come along if I keep looking, I'll probably be ok. Not great but ok.

I'm gonna have to be ok with ok for the moment. Greatness comes later.