Kat’s Pause 

(the title should be enough of a warning for all those estrogen-wary)

Still nothing growing in my uterus. It seems to be protesting this, but I’m glad I don’t have to abort anything (yet). I swear, after this I’m never getting my period again. It’s so annoying to feel restricted by my own body. Having been given the option through the miracle of The Contraceptive Pill to never have another period, it feels unnatural to put my body through such stresses — if I dare say so, downright traitorous and cruel.

Khuffie (of all people!) pointed me toward this article on continuous oral contraceptive use to eliminate or greatly reduce the frequency of periods. There are quite a few related articles out there.

I was never one of those girls who couldn’t wait to get my period. I did read Are You There God? It’s Me, Margaret when I was young and confused, but I was intelligent enough at 12 or so years old to realize that hey, painful bleeding ain’t cool. I did not look forward to that “rite of passage” and was not excited when it happened. Up until then I had been consciously enjoying the ability to go swimming whenever I wanted and not having to worry about unexpected surprises ruining my plans.

The pill has allowed me to return, at least partially, to that happy phase. I now have control over exactly when it happens. Thanks to oral contraceptives, this is the first time I’ve gotten my period in nine weeks, and I only did it to give myself reassurance of my non-pregnant state. No more. From now on I intend to trust my pills or, if I absolutely must calm my ridiculously worrisome nerves, I’ll run out and grab a home pregnancy test. They’re not that expensive and it’s well worth sparing myself a week of messy discomfort.

We found a lovely spot in the woods today. The little path we followed led right down to the water’s edge, and we could see across Hamilton’s murky little bay to the forest on the other side. Surrounded by nature’s finest sights and sounds, we sat down and watched Scrubs on Khuffie’s laptop. Because we’re like that.

Later on we went down and dipped our toes in the warm shallow water. There was a little strip of sand made smooth by the waves that was pleasant to squish one’s feet into. (Because feet are ugly.)

Many pictures were taken:

Cousin It goes emo

Uterus beads

Japanese pop cover?

More overexposure

Annie is a cat

Ning’s mother seems like a kind, reasonable person and their new house is lovely. For the rest of the day, I whined periodically to Ning for him to come swimming with me. I will get him into water one way or another.
After we looked at the house and its resident adorable grey kitten, we wandered around Pacific Mall for a while, me taking in the Azn Experience of charmingly sketchy DVD stores, frilly clothing and tasty food. I predict frequent future cravings for egg waffles. Ning bought me a nice little white skirt; it was odd having to try on any size above small. Them crazy skinny Asians. After that we went to a random Asian grocery store to pick up some things (I am now in possession of 100g of pocky) and then went out to dinner. Back at his house, he and I watched Munich (sad, long, very good) and then I came home to lactose-free chocolate ice cream (yummy!). Tomorrow looks to be enjoyable too: it will be full of Khuffie, Scrubs, and walking in the woods. And hopefully pocky.

Tomorrow morning I’m going with Ning and his family to see their new house in Oakville. They’re moving there in three weeks. I’ll be meeting his mother for the first time beyond one shy hello months ago. I’m a little nervous — I don’t even know how much English she speaks, or her first name, and I forgot to ask Ning how his parents pronounce their last name. (Just like mine, there’s a local pronounciation and an Americanized one.) But I’m oddly excited to see his house. From the virtual tour Ning showed me, it looks lovely, but it’ll be cool to be inside it. They have a guest room for me to sleep in so that I can stay overnight (provided my mother is willing — his parents don’t care). My mother worries that his mother is trying to “groom” me as a future daughter-in-law. I say she can go for it. From what I’ve heard of Mrs. Kang, she’s none too easily pleased, but she sounds like a decent person, and I’m prepared to make some sacrifices to get her to accept me.

Long talks tonight with Ning and Khuffie (separately). In the end Ning convinced me to take him back and I’m seeing both of them tomorrow (separately). I’ve hurt them both but I’m hoping things don’t have to end too badly. I hate choosing and I hate losing a good friend even more.

Wretched. That is how I feel: wretched and hopeful. Guilty and happy. I don’t know what I regret but I want to leave it behind me.

It’s impossible for no one to get hurt; sometimes with me around, it’s impossible for anyone not to. I am so sorry.

Apologies to anyone who may have tried to post in the last five days. I blacklisted one spam word and I just discovered that it’s been killing all my comments without notification.

This is like trying to kill weeds without scorching your lawn — there has to be some easier way than picking them out one at a time, that doesn’t turn everything to ash.

Update: Thanks Khuffie, you’re my hero! I’m now running the latest version of WordPress, and everything appears to be functional.

Watching the Oscars:

[10:16:34 PM] Katherine: eww
[10:16:36 PM] Katherine: naked babies
[10:16:40 PM] khuffie: eww nekkid babies
[10:16:56 PM] khuffie: …clearly we’re made for each other

From a while ago, but it still makes me smile.

Saw MI3 a few hours ago. From the trailers, I was expecting it to be terrible, but it was pretty good. Just awfully loud. Did they have the volume up too high in the theatre or something? Anyway, it was fun to watch, even though the ending was a teeny bit ludicrous. And I didn’t know Jonathan Rhys-Meyers was in it! That was a lovely surprise. His Irishness is delicious to look at and hear.

As of today, I am officially dating Khuffie. I don’t know if it’s too soon or if I’m not being smart or whatever, but this feels good. And I did start dating Ning on a whim and some feelings, so who knows. Now if only my mother wasn’t afraid of Internet People, especially when they’re older men…

Hello stomach, will you please stop torturing me? Thank you and goodnight.

Spent all day in Toronto with Khuffie and OH MY GOD I MET SCOTT RAMSOOMAIR. I shook his hand and managed not to beg him to impregnate me with little webcomic-artist babies. Seriously though, I had a really good day. Khuff and I went to a Korean grill where you cook your own food right at the table — there’s a grill recessed into the top — which sounds odd, but it was fun and very tasty. I tried squid for the first time. (Tasted okay, icky squishy texture.) We also watched Garden State and, of course, Scrubs! Mmm Zach Braff.

I had to lie to my parents to go to TO alone and see my Creepy Internet Stalker, which isn’t cool in my books, otherwise I’d love to do this again soon. Maybe exchange more than four words with Scott too. There’s freedom in September with school, but that’s oh so far away.

I tossed my resume around two local malls and a Shoppers Drug Mart, hit about ten places in total. Hopefully a less-than-crummy part-time job will find me soon; money is good.

There’s a moment in my mind
I scribbled and erased a thousand times
Like a letter never written or sent
These conversations with the dead
I used to be a sentimental guy
Now I’m haunted by the left unsaid

I never thought so much could change

Little things you said or did
are part of me, come out from time to time
Probably no one I know now would notice

But I never thought so much could change

You drifted far away
Far away it seems
Time has stopped, the clock keeps going

People talkin’ and I’m watching
As flashes of their faces go black and white
And fade to yellow in a box in an attic

But I never thought so much could change
Now I don’t miss anyone
I don’t miss anything
What a shame cause I used to be a sentimental guy

(Ben Folds, “Sentimental Guy”)

–
I wish he would talk to me. Even after we’re broken up, I find myself still chasing after him.

Fear of Girls

Khuffie bought me T2T and now I will love him forever. Off to play with the Prince, the precious Prince and FARAH!

Also, who’s excited about the Wii? Tycho says he loves the fishing in Twilight Princess. Dare I assume the fishing minigame of OoT fame has returned?

T2T2T2T2T!

but am not going to because I don’t have the energy:

- iron the small mountain of clothes on my bed
- wash the other mountain in the basket
- anything for co-op (calling sports organizations, contacting that prof from Mac, emailing dooce, talking to other bloggers, thinking about my culminating activity)
- anything in this post

Chapter 7 is done. And it only took me a year…

Escape

I posed in King Sharaman’s harem room. I was to appear haughty, aloof, perhaps suggestive of aristocracy; I dared not laugh at the great irony of being a princess mistaken for a commoner, now trussed up as exotic royalty. No harem girl should be thinking amusing thoughts, except to amuse her visitors – we were mere decorations, girls to sensually lounge around and provide a pleasing atmosphere. It was a good existence for a captured slave – we conceded to the occasional fond touch, but little more. I was immensely grateful to the green-eyed Prince for arranging for me to reside in his father’s harem rather than become a lowly servant like other prisoners. He told me they would not have allowed such a pretty face to go to waste scrubbing floors or serving food, and he might have been right, but I overhead him requesting that I be treated with respect. And so they dressed me in fine clothes and called me a foreign beauty, a mystery who never removed the veil that covered her face, and I lay among plush cushions and rich textiles, pretending to be, well, myself.

I remembered little of my sun-maddened days in the Persians’ caravan, only yellow sand and a kind face. When I recovered my senses, I was relieved to discover that my identity had been disguised by a hundred small injuries, as well as the sand that clung like a persistent nightmare to my hair and skin. I obtained a scarf to cover my head and face – allegedly to protect me from the harmful sun, but in truth, it offered protection of a far greater sort: the Persian capture of an Indian princess could shatter the tenuous peace between our nations. So I called myself Sandhya, because my persona would be as vague and fleeting as dusk. Once I was able to speak to the Prince alone, I could reveal myself and regain my regal authority.

A rustle of curtains and a flash of blue solidified into the Prince. He smiled when he saw me, and then politely dropped his eyes. The rumours I had heard of his kindness had not been exaggerated – in addition to all that he had done to ensure my comfort in his home, he chose to offer me some modesty when he visited me.

“Any news from India?� I asked.

He rolled his eyes, but smiled. “India, India, always India. Is my country not enough for you?� He feigned a hurt look, with the faintest hint of honesty showing through.

I tapped one slippered foot, making frustratingly little noise. Let him think what he may – silk pillows did not make me any less of a prisoner.

He sighed and told me the gossip I always asked after. “The princess’ betrothed is concerned, as usual. The wedding is less than a month away and still there’s no sign of the girl. No doubt he worries she’s done something foolish like eloping for love.�

“No doubt? Has he said that?� I interrupted.

“Well, he’s nearly old enough to be her father,� the Prince replied, arrogantly scornful. “Surely a woman of her grace and stature could do better; she’s probably found a young fellow more suited to her.�

I crossed my arms. “She chose to marry him, you know. Did it ever occur to you that she might actually like him?�

He had the audacity to laugh. “Of course not. Everyone knows she only settled for him because he was the least worst of them. And if she was that fond of him, why did she leave? No, I think she’s gone and found a handsome prince to fall in love with.�

“Out. Get out.�

He laughed again. “Really, Sandhya.�

I glared.

“You can’t order me around in my own house!�

He was childish but correct. I relaxed my brow and uncrossed my arms, lounging once more on the cushions.

“Why do you like him so much?�

I looked up and saw that the Prince had sat down beside me. “Because he’s kind to her. He loves her, you know.�

“Of course he does – she’s young, pretty, and has a country to offer.�

“No, it’s more than that.� He waited for me to continue, but I was savouring Halim’s earnest eyes and low voice calling me “dear.�

We talked of other things until he went to attend to some matter. I wished for my fiancé and wanted to cry, but knew I couldn’t. And so I posed.

~

The days passed idly and I became more and more restless as my wedding date neared. I hadn’t felt so helpless, so fruitless, since the listless time judging suitors before Halim arrived. Back then, I thought sometimes of the Persian prince who visited my window – the same man who now visited me in the harem room almost every day, unaware of whom he was speaking with. I wondered why I’d found him so mysterious then; he was just a spoiled young prince with a good heart hidden somewhere among the mounds of ego. All the wondrous things had been said to the Indian princess; he made no mention of sand or daggers to me now. I had come to Persia because my curiosity about that strange night was interfering with my ordinary life; now I saw that the man who so fascinated me before was quite ordinary too, as far as royals go. He had put behind him the stories of magic and adventure, and I realized it would be childish for me not to do the same. Although I found myself unexpectedly enjoying my stay in his home, it was only a matter of time before I found a way to leave.

One clear September night, I lay in the dark of the harem room thinking of my home and family. I wondered when I would see my father’s wise, creased eyes or feel my mother’s smooth brown hands. My thoughts were interrupted by a sliver of light that brought life to the vivid colours in its path as it grew wider. Looking towards the source, I saw the Prince’s dark form fill the half-opened doorway as torchlight flickered behind him in the corridor. He gestured for me to come with him.

As I rose to follow, one of the girls stirred behind me, wakened by the light. I turned to see her smiling at us; knowing what the look on her face meant, I smiled awkwardly back, then hurried out of the room.

Offering me his cloak and his arm, the Prince led me through the cold stone palace. Orange firelight drew harsh, shaky shadows on the walls, but aside from a few guards, everyone was asleep and silent. I asked where we were going. He put a finger to his lips and pulled me up yet another flight of stairs.

I caught a glimpse of something sparkling just before we emerged into open air. We were on a small balcony little bigger than the one adjoining my bedroom in India. It was the first clear night after days of rain. The stars shone fiercely defiant in the black sky, and every surface glimmered wetly. As we walked to the edge of the balcony, a marvellous sight stretched before us: miles of rippling desert, across which lay my home. The sheer vastness of all that sand, grey in the moonlit darkness, weighed upon my spirit. So far away from home, the dunes echoed, so far, so far.

“Isn’t it glorious?� The Prince gazed up at the brilliant stars, oblivious as always. It was only natural that he should feel such pride for his kingdom; surely he would understand that I felt the same way about my own land. The time had come for me to return there.

“Prince,� I began, “you’ve been nothing but kind to me since I came here, and I want you to know that I deeply appreciate that.� I touched his hand as it lay upon on the balustrade. “But I’m restless here. I don’t want to stay a slave girl forever.� I looked up at him then, knowing the desperation in my voice was matched in my eyes. “I was hoping you could do something for me.�

“I know what it is you’re asking.� The clear words were spoken with discomfort. “And I understand why… I’ve thought about it myself sometimes.� I took the embarrassment in his sideways glance to mean he sympathized with my need to leave, even though he didn’t want me to go. “But I don’t know if I can give that to you.�

I grabbed his arm like a begging child. “Please, all I’m asking is—�

“I—I don’t love you, Sandhya.�

My brow moved confusedly. “You don’t have to love me to—� His expression wrinkled into a puzzlement equalling my own. “What is it you think I want?�

The horrified shame on his face betrayed his thoughts. “You spoiled pig!� I spat, and left him to the beautiful night sky.

Seething as I ran through the halls, I knew I had to leave immediately. I couldn’t risk him telling anyone what had happened. I would return to Halim, who was neither silly nor arrogant and possessed the ability to look beyond himself once in a while. Even if he was only marrying me for shallow reasons, he treated me well.

Fortune took pity on me and I found my way back to the harem room with relative ease. It was only in the heat from the sleeping bodies that I realized I still wore the Prince’s blue cloak. I took it off and filled it with snacks enjoyed by the palace’s residents and guests – bowls of fresh fruit and sweet bread. There would be enough to keep me alive for the journey home. What I really needed, however, was—

“Thirsty?�

I nearly dropped the bulging load as I turned around. A girl looked up at me from the floor, drowsy-eyed – the same light sleeper who had woken up earlier. As I stared, frozen with guilt and fear, she repeated, “Is he thirsty too?�

I looked down at the food in my arms. “Yes,� I answered. “He sent me down here to fetch him a snack.�

She made a disgusted noise that dissolved into a yawn. “Typical royalty, treating everyone like their slaves. I don’t know what you’re getting out of this—� she gestured vaguely at me to signify my midnight venture with the Prince – “but just remember that you’re better than a common servant. Don’t give him any more than you need to.�

I nodded and remained standing there for a few seconds before she reminded me where the water was. I took a full pitcher and a cup to look unsuspicious, hoping they kept skins in the stables – my last place to visit.

Creeping down to where the horses were kept wasn’t difficult in my soft slippers, although when I reached the stables, the dampness seeped into my feet and chilled me from the inside. But the air was humid and warm and I knew my shivering was caused by fear, not cold. I was so close to escaping—

“Oi,� said a voice – the kind I could picture smiling through crooked yellow teeth. “Where are you going tonight, pretty?�

My body turned to ice. “Away.�

“I don’t think the king would like one of his birdies to fly away now, do you? He ought to have clipped your wings a little shorter.� Rough hands pushed my arms together behind my back and a man’s breath warmed my neck. I shivered. He felt it and laughed the slow, creaking laugh of a man with power over another human. I began to worry then.

“Oh, I’ll make sure birdie gets safely back in her cage,� he grinned. “The king takes good care of his pets.� His mouth was close enough that the moisture from his saliva was beginning to wet my skin. I heard a quiet whimper, my own, and that was when I knew I had only a fool’s hope.

This game puts a dopey estrogen-filled smile on my face. Oh the soft, pretty colours and the cute music and the sweet concept… playing it makes me feel like a happy girl. Maybe it’s because I’m sick, but it’s just so nice that I can’t help but go awww.

I’ve enjoyed the cute games on orisinal.com for a long time now, but not very frequently, so I’m always finding ones I haven’t played yet. This one is a favourite.

Another article done, and I didn’t even screw up the photo request! Oh the pride, it is dripping from my fingers. Baby’s First Deadline gets published this Friday.

Ran into my stoner ex today. I love the guy; he’s so amusing in the most unattractive way. Why I dated him twice is still beyond me, but he does entertain. I told him Ning and I broke up and of course he’s getting ideas, which is kind of sweet. I kicked him. Gently. But he did call me gut-wrenchingly beautiful, God bless the self-interested bastard.

Slight fever, the majority of my thoughts do not make sense. Thanks to Scrubs + Khuffie + a banana, I feel less stuffy now, but I still ought to be getting to bed. Despite not ironing.

Was writing a post, computer crashed, lost the post. Shortened version:

Things that happened today:

Got a letter from Laurier saying I qualify for a $2000 bursary. TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS OF FREE MONEY. Made my morning happy.

Made plans to go out with Ning tomorrow, which got pushed back to Sunday. Miss him. Don’t feel like waiting to get back together with him, but I’m trying to be good and resist.

An ex-friend messaged me out of nowhere, asked a couple questions about school, then asked if it was true that Ning and I had broken up. I said yes and asked if that was why she messaged me, but she seemed moderately sincere… we talked about some stuff after that, and then she left. I’m going to go ahead and assume that she was in it for the gossip, but at least she tried to be decent about it.

My supposedly sensible shoes chewed up the backs of my heels. Had to get some bandaids from first aid, but the pain in my skinless ankles is still too excruciciating to walk. Back to sandals for me, which chafe other areas.

Deadline tomorrow — my first real deadline. I emailed the plain text to myself (stupid Mac/PC incompatibility) to work on it some tonight, but of course never did. Also never interviewed people for that trophies article, and never ironed.

Read a short article that mentioned the Ontario government is guaranteeing jobs to all nursing students who graduate in 2007. Makes me feel even better about my lack of future, graduating with an English degree.

Feelin’ crappy now. Woke up late and sick this morning, finally rediscovered the honey in my house this evening to make some tea, and now I think I’ll go upstairs and cry. So frustrated that I can’t help my friend and my own life feels like one screwup after another. Good night.

Writing something for this random contest. The theme is “mundane evil.” Have a couple ideas bouncing around, no plot so far. It shouldn’t conflict with my city’s annual teen writing contest because I’ve had an idea for that for a while which doesn’t fit this theme.

Meanwhile, Lost Time has been languishing — the same two small gaps are there now as were a few weeks ago, and I really have no excuse for not filling them in. I could whine that I’m traumatized by my breakup, but that would be a lie. I guess I’m a little intimidated to upload this silly chapter after a 10-month haitus with no updates, and once these bits are finished, I’ll have no reason to keep clutching and coddling it. I’ll have to let it go.

The good:
- hanging out with Khuffie in the sunshine
- Scrubs! (we went to a park, sat down under a tree and watched episodes on his laptop: ecks dee)
- enjoying European food and company at Alex’s house (God I love his family)

The bad:
- ongoing confusion about where to go to school — do I take what I love (English) or what will keep me off the streets (Nursing)?
- desiring to get back together with Ning when I know (I think?) that it’s too soon
- I think I got a sunburn… stupid freshly-shaven legs

I am sad. Not because I miss Ning or because I’m lonely without a boyfriend, although both of those are true, but because this is now yet another relationship to tack on to my list of failures. The logical part of me is saying don’t be silly, every adult has a ton of failed relationships, who marries their fifth boyfriend? But that part is squelched under layers of self-doubt and knowledge of my own issues and inadequcies, and it can’t rise above the noise created by the things friends and enemies have said to or about me. The rational part, aided by current friends, fights back with a generic “everyone has problems,” to which I really have no reply. Everyone has good qualities too; saying so is meaningless even if it’s completely true. Already I’ve begun to plot about the things I’ll do differently in my next relationship, or if Ning and I get back together. But more than anything I feel great disappointment with myself. If only I didn’t need so much attention. If only I had higher self-esteem so that I wouldn’t rely on others for affirmation of my worth. If only I didn’t worry so much and transfer that worry onto others. If only I could need absolutely nothing from anyone and could just be content with what they can give me.

Last night after an evening of pool and feeling just dandy, I got off the phone with Khuffie late at night and started crying again. Fell asleep in my clothes without brushing my teeth, setting my alarm clock or turning off the bedroom light. Managed to wake up on time for co-op this morning but managed to miss two buses anyway, at which point I gave up on the day and called in sick. Sense then I’ve been trying to fix my computer so that it doesn’t crash so often and refuse to boot up. (Let it be known that Cogeco’s antivrus/spyware-checking program is far from impressive, but Spybot has yet to fail me.)

Always make sure the oven is empty before you turn it on to preheat for half an hour. My mother left breadcrumbs inside, and my house is now 10x smokier than a seedy bar on 10-cent wing night. I’ve opened the front and back doors to try and air it out. At least I didn’t start a fire. And it’s a warm day — smokiness in winter sucks.

Looks like my stomach will be waiting a little longer for food.

Update: mmm boneless teriyaki and honey bbq chicken wings, you delight. Thank Zelda for sisters who work at Pizza Hut (employee discount!) and mothers who will give you pity money when you whine.

I was congratulating myself for not emotionally overeating, and then I realized all I’ve put in my stomach today has been a Snickers bar and a glass of water. [Edit: Oh and a peanut butter & jelly sandwich early in the evening… forgot about that.] No breakfast, lunch, or dinner. I turned on the oven to throw in some very healthy frozen pizza thingies, but it’s more out of sense of duty — I ought to be eating — than actual hunger. Oh well. Sometimes I have days like this when I forget to eat; I like to think it balances out the times when I eat even though I’m not hungry. Overall I think I’m pretty okay about the breakup. I did my crying last night and the night before, when I decided we needed to have a Scary Relationship Talk. I wouldn’t have talked to him yesterday if I hadn’t convinced myself the night before that I could handle breaking up (hence the tears). I was a little worried about Ning because I haven’t heard much from him, but he seems to be doing alright too, just a bit ill these last few days.

We broke up. It was mutual and it was a good breakup, as such things go… we talked, laughed, cried, talked some more, made each other promise we’d be okay. We always said we’d stay friends if we broke up, and I didn’t know if it would actually happen, but now I think it will.

I can’t believe I’m single. This feels weird.