Not Anonymous

My afternoon siesta lasted three hours.

I woke up feeling quite terrible. In fact I thought I was going to throw up. However, I wasn't going to let that stop me, though it did delay my reflexes and I felt foggy brained for a long time.

But my sister had booked and paid for an evening hike at the excavation sites of Caesarea, and we would walk among the ruins with swinging lantern lights (something the kids found very enjoyable).

So with the above being part of the plans there was much discussion by members of my family suggesting I stay at the cottage and let someone else take my place on the hike, which annoyed me enough to get moving, take a quick scalding shower (I woke up with a fever and thus was feeling cold) and swallow down some paracetamol.

Oh, and our neighbours decided to blast their music again. Cue my bitch-face + a headache (despite the medicine). I was ready to either murder someone or leave.

After taking the medicine, chugging down a bottle of water and eating an apple I felt better, though nowhere near 100%.

The hike was brilliant though. Our guide was a geek! The moat reminded my nephews of Helm's Deep and one of them said it looked like where Aragorn and Legolas fought the Orcs and the guide asked them if they knew who Aragorn's father is and then started reciting The Song of Aragorn!

All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king.

My sister and brother-in-law looked very pleased and I clapped like a moron and bounced like a ball, something I regretted, because, well, fever.

But all our kids, three nephews and a niece, now felt they had the guide all to themselves and latched onto him like limpets.

My sister, who is a Mediaevalist of the Middle East was very impressed with the guide's correct knowledge of the era and the Mamluks who fought the Crusaders. I gotta say, if I had to chose a side, I'd go with the Mamluks, as my sister said, because they won.

They won hard.

In any event, we walked along the shore line and the guide talked about the Romans and their bloody "reality shows" in the Hippodrome and Arena, the Byzantines and their syncretism of Jesus and Sol Invictus, the other multiple temples to the Sun that scattered the shore line, and he recreated, using shadow puppets the Egyptian god Ra's descent into the underworld and ascent into the sky, which was rather entertaining.

By the end of the hike most of the lanterns had gone out, which made the atmosphere even eerier, but I suppose that is the point.

As I said the kids loved it.

The drive back to the resort was a bit of a nightmare, because the paracetamol wore off and the fever attacked me again.

By the time we arrived back I was very wobbly and the short walk had me collapsing on my bed. I was given water and ibuprofen. I changed into pyjamas and was moaning and groaning the whole night, I was told.

I woke up on day 4 (and check out morning) was given more medicine, tea and I nibbled on dry cornflakes.

Thankfully my brother and his family wanted to go home as soon as possible, so I hitched a ride with them and got home long before everyone else.

I continued to be floppy throughout the day, but as of this writing I'm back to normal. I suspect sunstroke to be honest.

A lot of the choices I've made, throughout my life and especially the last couple of years, have been due to the fact that I've had the privilege to make them.

I chose to study the Humanities on my parent's dime, because I was able to do so with little sacrifice on my side. I took my time, four years instead of three, because I was not able to handle a year in which a lot of shit happened - so I let my studies go and had to re-do a year.

I still feel guilty about that.

I had considered taking a year off between BA and going on to an MA, because, well, obviously I'll be doing an MA. This is the way the life of a privileged middle class girl goes, right? But first, I should probably get onto a career path of some kind. I enjoyed the Library, I loved being in the Library and I had various Librarian role models that made me think that being a Librarian was a good idea.

Well, the studies made me want to kill myself and the more I thought about where I wanted to go with my life, the notion of being on that path looked less and less like the thing I wanted to be.

So I decided to drop out.

I feel guilty about that too.

It's "another" thing I started and didn't finish. It's another "phase" that fizzled out because I got "bored". Never mind that the studies, depressed me to a degree to which I hadn't felt in a long while, probably not the subject matter itself (though really, my brain felt like it was leaking out of my skull while I was in class), but the frame of being in school, again.

I enjoy learning. But studying...

I feel guilty about the choosing to veer away from this plan, without a backup plan. I'm still unemployed, living off my savings at the moment, working on the side for my father so that I don't sink utterly. There's not a bit of shame involved in that, despite it being a concious choice I made.

And wouldn't you know, I feel guilty about that, as well.

The thing is, my parents were paying for these studies as well and I just couldn't have that any more.

I'm 26, and moved out and still, my parents were paying for my life.

You know, I'd much rather suck up the shame and ask them for help with the rent, than have them help me coast through life just so I can be put on a career path that was numbing me out.

I'm still numb, because I am overwhelmed by death, disease and the feelings of failure that will probably not leave me until I get a job, because I am nothing if not a loyal subject to the economic system.

But ever since I made the choice of leaving school, I've felt lighter and more at ease with the my guilt. I feel guilty for letting down my parents, not for making a choice they think is a mistake - because it's not a mistake for me. I feel guilty for not being financially secure at the moment, but I know that's a dynamic situation that can and will change and it's less to do with me personally and more to do with the structure of work force.
I feel guilty that everything is coming to a head at a time where there has been a death in the family and we are about to begin to revolve around a disease which we thought we wouldn't have to deal with again.

But nothing goes according to plan.

So really, why feel guilty?

For now, it's an outlet for me. Feeling all my feelings through the prism of guilt. It motivates me to try and not feel guilty. Feeling guilty informs me that I am being manipulated, in one way or another.

Feeling guilty reminds me that it could be worse. It reminds me of my privilege, I suppose.

Yesterday though, a song came on my shuffle that really helped me put it somewhat in perspective:


Hand In My Pocket - Alanis Morissette
( no one's really got it figured out just yet )

Happy International Woman's Day!

Here's to 100 years of celebrating women!

I spend the day writhing in pain and doing baby/Auntie duty, seeing as I didn't go to work today.

I've been terrible in updating, but I've been terribly swamped with the Semester starting and all, I want to get as many assignments and papers out of the way so that I have a chance to, you know, not work a lot...

None the less I still procrastinate like mad, but I'm meeting deadlines and my profs seem to be happy with my work, so yay!

Other than that, if I wasn't in pain and stressed I think my mind would be better equipped to give y'all an actual update on my life... but gah.

I just want to make sure you're all still around!

I'll try and write something substantial soon.

I got my Swine 'Flu injection today.
Now my arm hurts.
Cry moar, right?
In doing so (getting vaccinated) I may have fallen victim to a huge conspiracy.
Do let me know if the pod person, who replaced via the nanogens I was injected with, writes some gibberish I'll need to decipher.

Thanks!

I don't get it.

Really, I don't.

I've been to the States and I didn't get it then. I've been reading up on the subject because the Interwebs are busting with the "health care" discussion.

My country has socialised medicine, we get the choice of four different HMO's, they compete with each other and have supervision and controlling rights over different hospitals.
There is a Health Basket that includes various kinds of medications that would have been unattainable for many people, but through prescription you can get your Insulin, your Xanax, your (practically) whatever you need for an affordable price.

We pay for this service along as well as for national security (so that in case we are unable to work we will still be able to afford health care) through our pay cheques or certificates if one is an independent.

Is it perfect? Hell, no. Most of the time, it is more aggravating than not.

However, this year due to an actual medical necessity I saw the health care system work and we actually got money back after the treatments my mother had to go through were done.

I understand that this sounds like luxury for some and it is. In Third World counties (not all) and in the United States.

That's really fucked up.

Also? Crazy Americans comparing Universal Healthcare to Nazi Policy, WHAT?!

Barney Frank says it better than me (via mizzpyx)


I mock.

That's what I have to say about this really, really redundant debate (it's a debate!!!).

I was planning on going today to Washington DC, unfortunately a bad case of runny tummy has made me feel like, well, crap.

So I will only be going tomorrow, right now I am chugging water and eating dry toast.

I really want my comfort food, but with cereal there is milk and that is a bad idea.

So I spent the past two days throwing up and feeling shitty in general, I hate having stomach flue. Add to that, that my entire house hold was sick as well!

Remember when I said my sister and her family (husband two kids) came for a visit? Well it was like a fucking slaughter house! Monday night, I got sick, thought it was food poisoning... didn't stop until four-fucking-a.m. Which was when my Mother, my brother in law and my four year old nephew started with the sickness as well.

We're all feeling better now, just exhausted and empty (I could barely eat breakfast), but at least now I can walk, talk (without groaning) and sit in front of a screen without feeling dizzy.