Time: 12:12
Day: Wednesday 7th
Location: Uncle's Biiiiiiiiiiig snooty house.
Sounds: Listenning to my cousins iPod- and she's only got Britney Spears on it, so I suppose I can be forgiven this time arround for jamming to 'Hit me Baby One More Time'. Maaan, this brings back memories of watching the video clip with Tas and wonderring how her stomach could be so flat. Now Britney's being air brushed on her album covers and WE'RE THE ONES WITH FLAT STOMACHS AND TWO PACKS! Sometimes the world is just :) Speaking of which, either my uncles mirrors are increadibly flattering, or I've lost even more weight (al). According to my mom, grandmother and (not so curiously) my grandfather though, this is nothing to be happy about.

Mom: Elest that skirt's too big for you and you're not pretty any more.
Elest: Hmmm (-and she's thinking: I'M UGLY! I HAVE NO JOB, NO MAN IN MY LIFE AND NOW I'M UGLY!)

Paternal Grandma: Oi where the hell's your butt gone? What did you do to it? I don't like this at all, men want something to grab. What's your man gonna do?
Elest: Errrr. (-and she's thinking: Huh, like I want someone grabbing my butt...bloody sexist cypriot ideaologies.)

Granpa: (addressing grandma) She's not gonna get a man! Sorry.
Elest: ... (-and she's thinking: crap, what's he doing here? More sexist cypriot ideologies!)
Grandpa: There are two things in life a woman should not be without; a good butt and a perfect belly button...
Elest: ... (-and she's thinking: Not the drinking out of a womans belly button story again, man this stufff is x-rated and I was subjected to it since I was 10, I can't take any more of it!)
Grandpa: ...and then it's the legs and so on and so forth. BUT THOSE (finger waving) ARE PRIORITY! Now I am proud of your belly button- and you have me to thank for that by the way, because I bullied the doctors into surgically fixing it for you when you were a baby- but as for your backside, you're useless. Sorry.

-and as if that wasn't enough, I had a 'life' talk with my uncle. Which included the inevitable, unavoidable reality of being stuck in the rat race till you die, once you have kids and get a morgage. To which the only alternative is being a bumm who no one will employ if you're idle for over a year 'so get your act together now!'
Elest: ... (and she's thinking: Thanx for doing the father talk with me, I really appreciate it, however it would be nice if you could be more encouraging and less threatening because the father-shaped-space-of-an-individual called DAD already gave me the "you're useless, and you're living in a dream world, you'll never amount to anything" treatment when he was here last month.)
And then he tells me his friends daughter (my age) is dating 'a muslim bloke, and religion doesn't seem to be a problem', followed by a questioning stare.
Elest: ... has the comfortable look of someone who is with a guy, but who doesn't feel the need to tell relatives about it yet. (and she's thinking: What a load of bollocks, I'm just very good at looking cool.)

Basically I've been torn to shreads :)
The only way to not care is to pretend you're made of stone and try to stop other people being hurt the way you're hurting, if only you'd stop ignorring it.
But it builds up right?
So here's my plan: In 2046 there is this ongoing theme about how in the olden days, when people had a secret to tell they'd climb a mountain, find a hollow tree and whisper the secret inside, then they'd seal it up with mud, so it was just a little easier to bare and no one would ever no about it. Now, post not-telling-your-problems-to-other-people talk with Ryo...which made me sad (and especially coz I don't like talking about myself either, but I don't want anyone else feeling like me)...I've decided that (drum roll) we each gotta find ourselves a tree. :)