Don't Think Of Me

So you're with her
Not with me
I hope she's sweet
And so pretty
I hear she cooks delightfully
A little angel beside you

So you're with her
Not with me
Oh how lucky
One man can be
I hear your house is smart and clean
Oh how lovely with your homecoming queen
Oh how lovely it must be

When you see her sweet smile baby
Don't think of me
And when she lays in your warm arms
Don't think of me

So you're with her
Not with me
I know she spreads sweet honey
In fact your best friend I heard he spent
Last night with her
Now how do you feel, how do you feel?

When you see her sweet smile baby
Don't think of me
And when she lays in your warm arms
Don't think of me
And it's too late
And it's too bad
Don't think of me
And it's too late
And it's too bad
Don't think of me

Does it bother you now all the mess I made
Does it bother you now, the clothes you told me not to wear
Does it bother you now all the angry games we played
Does it bother you now when im not the-re

When you see her sweet smile baby
Don't think of me
And when she lays in your warm arms
Don't think of me
And it's too late
And it's too bad
Don't think of me
And it's too late

It's not you thinking of me ... it's me thinking of you ...







Waaahoooo, i'm getting sentimental.

  

  

Anger Management

I have anger issues. Well, I call them that. My mom says it's intolerance, my friend say it's impatience, another friend says it's poor self-control. Whatever it is, whatever you call it, it ends up feeling the same: hugely resentful. If i were an animal, i'd end up in killing mode. Anger is so bad it can kill. Hell yeah! And if you look closer at it, even the word "anger" is only ONE letter away from DANGER.

My worse problem is that i have travelled so far into my own anger that it became fury, it became rage, it became hate. I have reached that amount of rage twice in my life, not even 6 months apart, both for the same motive, both for being beaten the crap out of. When that happened to me, it didnt matter that i was weaker and smaller than those 2 guys. One of my buttons had been pushed and fear was not part of my vocabulary any more. If i had had a gun that day, i would have shot it. With not even having second thoughts. And that's scary when you realize that in the aftermath.

It's scary to acknowledge what your inner self is capable of. Scary to realize you could actually take someone's life in a heart beat, just because you couldnt control yourself. It's also impressive how anger affects your body: your heart rate increases, so does your blood pressure, so does your adrenaline level, you can't talk anymore, you're blinded by your own rage, you're shaking like a leaf in the winter wind, you're in survival mode and could eat someone alive. Danger and fear don't mean anything anymore - your entire body and mind are now ruled by an EMOTION. Talking about losing control.

I have had anger issues for as long as i can remember. It goes from the simple: "oh, i'm pissed off" to "seriously, i will punch you in the fucking face and beat the crap out of you if you're still standing" and would even reach the "i will kill you" if i wasnt doing my best to control myself.
Knowing that i have never actually shot someone is not that i am being successful in controlling myself, it's only due to the fact that i am clever enough not to get myself a gun. Otherwise, i probably wouldnt be able to write those lines and most likely be behind bars. Even though, as my friend told me, shooting at someone who is beating the crap out of you would probably be ruled out "self defence".

Maybe i should look for a sport or an activity that helps me channel all that rage. Something that leaves me drained out at the end of each session, something that leaves me with no energy to fight anymore. I heard that all martial arts and fighting sports also teach you self-control. That, i think, would be the toughest for me. Turning my anger into action. Into controlled supervised action. But again, is teaching and showing an angry person like me techniques and tips to hit harder and more precisely really a good idea? I'm already the kinda person who's gonna hit first and then ask questions. Or ACT first and then think.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said: "for every minutes you're angry, you lose sixty seconds of happiness". TRUST ME, you dont feel it this way. I know it's true but when you feel that surge of anger filling you up, it's like a boiling pan ... It is not gonna stop unless you take it out of the fire. My problem being: HOW do you take ME away from the fire? How do you cool me down? How do you kill my rage when it's still in growing state and before it reaches insane heights? What is that i can do to stop it? And if i find out what, how can i do it? Can i do it? On my own? Or should i be locked away until i calm down, just like you do with kids throwing a fit? I'm open to suggestions, even if i know exactly what most of you will say and that what you will say will piss me off ... i dont like to hear how a failure i am in such a situation.



I like you though ... i'll kill you last.








" Anyone can become angry — that is easy. But to be angry with the right person, to the right degree, at the right time, for the right purpose, and in the right way — this is not easy"
Aristotle


     

Pneumonia and Me

For the past week or so, i've been coughing and coughing and coughing some more. Convinced it was yet another asthma attack of mine, i used my inhalor as well as some of the meds my GP gave me last time.
Except that it wasnt asthma. I really thought my inhalor was the shit, that everytime i was experiencing this drowning feeling upon breathing, it'd be my savior. Well apparently not.
So since the coughing got worse, i asked for an appointment with my doctor.

It's funny the way doctors ask you: "how are you today" when you enter their practice. I'm awesome doc, i just came by to say hi. So i always answer the same stupid answer: "well, not that good otherwise i wouldnt be here, now, would i?"
He knows me so well he actually answered his questions at the same time i did! He knows that i really have to be/feel pretty bad to get a medical appointment since i really hate going to the doctor. I really have to be dying to resign myself to go.

The weirdest part for me during that consultation was to describe my symptoms. Cuz that very morning, i had experienced the freakiest feeling ever. I was high. High like when you're floating right outside your body. Ok, i know it sounds weird but try to explain THAT to a doctor and then imagine how insanely shameful you feel and the look on your doc's face. He must have thought: well if she's not sick in the head she's probably high on drugs. Well no i wasnt. But the feeling sure was there.

So after i told him all about my trip, as well as my body feeling like i've been run over by a truck and my chest so painful with the incessant coughing, he said right away: this is not dengue. Few.

What is it then?

He calmy said: it's pneumonia.

What? Mmm what? Whaaaaaaat? O_o
Am i gonna DIE? I mean fuuuuuck, pneumonia. It's not like a little cough, it's not a little flu. It's fucking pneumonia. People die of it. It's even the leading cause of death in the elderly and children under 5 years old in the world. THE LEADING CAUSE. What am i supposed to do? I dont want to die. Not of pneumonia anyway. I'd rather chose something a tad less painful. I mean have you ever been so tired you can't cough anymore, your chest feels like you're laying under a 15 tons truck, your body hurts like that very same truck hit you and passed over you a hundred times, you're coughing so hard that make you puke. I mean it's not a pleasant walk in the park.

He said i was gonna be ok, that antibiotics will cure me, either in 2 days (which would mean the infection was not too bad) or in 4-5 days (which would mean: Maty get your ass back to the practice, you're infection is pretty serious, we may need to give you stronger meds).

So i went to the pharmacy to buy my meds and right afterwards, went to visit my friend Tim with whom i was gonna have lunch. As soon as i got to his office, i took my meds and sat down to wait til he was finished. And then, all of the sudden, out of nowhere, it hit me. But i mean big time. I was hiiiiiiiiigh. Like went you've taken 3 pills of extasy but without the feeling of happiness (and without my hair dancing on my head either). I couldnt stand, i was hallucinating, i couldnt walk without assistance cuz i was too drowsy and had no balance left whatsoever.

And the first thing i thought was ... HOW am i supposed to drive back home? Like Tim was gonna let me drive in such a state. So i went to his place, slept the entire afternoon (hugging his 60 pounds boxer Ali), coughed like i wanted to spit my lungs out, having more hallucinations than ever, got myself a pounding headache and thought: fuck, dying hurts.

Well thing was, those meds are so strong you're not supposed to take them on an empty stomach ... Side effects stated are dizziness (got it), headache (got it), difficulty sleeping or bad dreams (got it), pins and needles (got it), confusion (got it), disturbance of the gut such as diarrhea, vomiting (got it), indigestion, abdominal pain (got it) and a couple of other stuff that i didnt have the honors of getting. They should just say: you're high like on E without the happy feeling. That should cover most. Haha.

It's funny though how people react to your diagnosed disease: I'm sick. Oh really what do you have? I have the flu. Oh ok, hope you'll get better soon. Now second scenario: I'm sick. Oh really what to you have? I have pneumonia. What? Whaaaaaaat? Are you OK? You need something? Please let me know if you need something. Can i do something for you?
That makes the feelin you're dying even worse.

Pneumonia is a bad ass name for a bad ass illness with a bad ass legit reputation. I'm a healthy 32 years old woman who's gonna make it. Eventually. In the meanwhile, if you allow me, i'll go take my prescription Es ... and enjoy the ride ...

  

Everybody's Free (To Feel Good)

Quite a while back, Tim, a very good friend of mine, sent me a beautiful video ... At that time, i wasn’t writing in a blog, nor paying much attention to anything else but myself. Today, another very good friend of mine, Nahomi, sent me the exact same video. Funnily enough, i knew i had seen it before, and since i really thought it was a beautiful one, i forward it to Tim, with whom i was chatting at that very same moment. He said in hurtful tones that HE was the one who had sent it to me in the first place.


I really think things happen for a reason, that friends do come and go, that the ones you met too early are meant to re-appear in your life eventually, and generally, exactly at the right time. This is exactly what happened to him and me.

And this post, is to celebrate and pay tribute to our re-newed / re-born friendship ... I know for sure now, this one is here to last.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IkUbz_63uco

“ If I could offer you only one tip for the future, sunscreen would be it.

The long term benefits of sunscreen have been proved by scientists whereas the rest of my advice has no basis more reliable than my own meandering experience…I will dispense this advice now.

Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth; oh never mind; you will not understand the power and beauty of your youth until they have faded. But trust me, in 20 years you’ll look back at photos of yourself and recall in a way you can’t grasp now how much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked….You’re NOT as fat as you imagine.

Don’t worry about the future; or worry, but know that worrying is as effective as trying to solve an algebra equation by chewing bubblegum. The real troubles in your life are apt to be things that never crossed your worried mind; the kind that blindside you at 4pm on some idle Tuesday.

Do one thing every day that scares you.

Sing.

Don’t be reckless with other people’s hearts, don’t put up with people who are reckless with yours.

Floss .

Don’t waste your time on jealousy; sometimes you’re ahead, sometimes you’re behind…the race is long, and in the end, it’s only with yourself. Remember the compliments you receive, forget the insults; if you succeed in doing this, tell me how.

Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements.

Stretch.

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.

Get plenty of calcium. Be kind to your knees, you’ll miss them when they’re gone.

Maybe you’ll marry, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll have children, maybe you won’t, maybe you’ll divorce at 40, maybe you’ll dance the funky chicken on your 75th wedding anniversary…whatever you do, don’t congratulate yourself too much or berate yourself either – your choices are half chance, so are everybody else’s.

Enjoy your body, use it every way you can…don’t be afraid of it, or what other people think of it, it’s the greatest instrument you’ll ever own..

Dance…even if you have nowhere to do it but in your own living room.

Read the directions, even if you don’t follow them.

Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel ugly.

Get to know your parents, you never know when they’ll be gone for good.

Be nice to your siblings; they are the best link to your past and the people most likely to stick with you in the future.

Understand that friends come and go, but for the precious few you should hold on. Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle because the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young.

Live in New York City once, but leave before it makes you hard; live in Northern California once, but leave before it makes you soft.

Travel.

Accept certain inalienable truths, prices will rise, politicians will philander, you too will get old, and when you do you’ll fantasize that when you were young, prices were reasonable, politicians were noble and children respected their elders. Respect your elders.

Don’t expect anyone else to support you. Maybe you have a trust fund, maybe you have a wealthy spouse; but you never know when either one might run out.

Don’t mess too much with your hair, or by the time you're 40, it will look 85.

Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it. Advice is a form of nostalgia, dispensing it is a way of fishing the past from the disposal, wiping it off, painting over the ugly parts and recycling it for more than it’s worth.

But trust me on the sunscreen…”

By the way, the song in the video is Everybody’s Free (To Feel Good) – hence my title – by Rozalla.
And for the lyrics, it goes like this ...

Brother and sister
Together we'll make it through
Some day a spirit will lift you and take you there
I know you've been hurting but I've been there
Waiting to be there for you
And I'll be there just helping you out
Whenever I can


'Cause
Everybody's free to feel good x 2


We are a family that should stand together as one
Helping each other instead of just wasting time
Now is the moment to reach out to someone
It's all up to you
When everyone's sharing their hope
Then love will win through

Blogger's Block

It's been over a week now and i still haven't written anything. Believe it or not, it actually makes me feel bad ... I can't imagine what it would be like to be a renowned writer and have a deadline: you need this book to be finished and ready for publishing in 37 days. Holy crap, talk about sleepless nights. Well i haven't been writing lately because of work. I worked 42 hours in 4 days this week and 63 hours in 6 days last week. Which means that i have worked in 10 days more than a 3 weeks worth of work. Fair? Not really. Needless to say i didn't have much time to blog. And even if i had found the time to, i was too exhausted to do so.

So on Thursday evening, it was my last day of work before a 3 days week-end. And guess what? I slept 27 hours in 2 days. Not even in 2 full days. Only within a 36 hours frame. I slept 27 hours out of 36. Not bad. Jaja.

A friend of mine told me: but it's not normal Mathilde, you need to go see your doctor, you must be sick or something. Really? You think so? Try to work 105 hours in 10 days with only 1 day off after the first 6 worked days (day off that i spent sleeping since i went out on Saturday night and only came back home at 7am on Sunday morning!) and you'll see how it feels.

It's not sickness, it's strain.

And guess what? Today it's Sunday, I'm off again and, I've already slept 10 hours and I'm about to go take a nap ...

Oooooh, i love it already.

Corporate Petiness and Trick or Treat

I have had a long week - a long tiring one. I didn't want to go to work this morning, i already worked 57 hours this week. I mean it's enough no?

Well today, in the office, i was so very much bored thus playing cards on the computer. When my boss called me and told me that some guy from work had reported me to big boss and to him. For playing cards on the computer.

Seriously.

I have been working for this company for nearly 7 years, i arrive on time at work, i do my shit, i am even gonna say that I'm the best at what i do, i don't take an hour lunch break, always less, i leave on time or late or when i know for sure i don't leave any pending behind and you're coming to me with that bullshit? How old are you? 10?

And then people wonder why don't i ever join them at parties organized by people from work? JA!

As i said, i have been working for this company for nearly 7 years and i have never EVER participated or joined a party from work - Christmas party being the only exception and we haven't had it in 2 years! This is not gonna change any time soon. What? It's Halloween? And? Why do i care about Halloween? Halloween is an American party and concept and I'm french. I don't like to dress up either.

I'm pissed off. Big time. Thank god i do have plans for tonight ... I'm gonna treat myself good and explore my darkest side ...

Trick or treat? I'll take both ...

It's the night of the witches ... well watch out, here i come!