It's 8:30 PM on Sunday night and I'm laying down on my bed, watching The L Word's second season with the Cat asleep between my legs.

It was a quiet day. I had planned on spending it writing reports for college that are due at the end of July, but couldn't get myself to do it (by the way—I seriously can not believe I'll be back to Uni in two weeks). I guess I needed a day off. A day off not to think about college, work or social obligations.

I used to hate being alone here on weekends. Nowadays I'm starting to see the matter differently. I've been trying to be more happy spending quality time with myself, and being less co-dependent of people. It's a slow process, but I think I'm starting to see some results.

Cleaning up the house, heating up lunch, staying in bed with the Cat watching The L Word, and going out for diner by myself at a nearby restaurant to watch the game, all seem like simple and normal things to do on a Sunday. They were, however, big steps for me.

As much as I'm used to being home alone on weekends, I'm not used to enjoying it. And yet I did.

As much as I hate living in this city, I've started to develop a somewhat healthy relationship with it for the past two or three months.

I haven't really stopped ranting about public transportation, our lack of decent administrators, or some of the local's attitudes, but, then again, I guess I never will. On the other hand, I've been trying to get to know nice places to go, to eat, to see, to be entertained. You know, those little special niches that makes you think that you belong in a city, and that the city, somewhat, also belongs to you.

In the two years I lived in São Paulo I've managed to fall head-over-heels for the City. And I still do, every time I return.

In the sixteen years I've lived in Rio, I only managed to complain and compare it São Paulo. Well, I need to stop comparing, and cut some slack on the complaining. During my whole life I have heard people bitch about Rio and São Paulo, and was discriminated for either being from one city or the other.

Being born in São Paulo, living in Rio for fourteen years, moving to São Paulo for high school, returning to Rio for college and, all the while, going back and forth at least once a month, turned me into a weird hybrid. To be frank, I don't really know how to define myself, and I don't really think I should. I like being this way, and it's high time I acknowledge the part of me that is connected to this city I'm living in, and that has—despite all stressful situations it has put me through—been really good to me.

This "I'm-Also-From-Rio" process, along with the aforementioned "I'm-Self-Sufficient" process, is part of what I will call Operation Growing Up.

God, I'm nineteen years old. It doesn't sound like much, but, to me, it's a lifetime. About time I wake up.

It's been... nearly six months since I have last updated this journal. And to think that I promised myself I would actually try to keep posting as regularly as possible. But you know what happens. Things start to happen in your life, and then, when you see it, so many things have happened that you feel lazy to just explain it to your dear readers (not that I have a whole lot of readers left after this hiatus).

I just feel like I've been compromising to do so many things that I just can't honour all of those commitments. It's not that I don't have the time; I just don't have the energy.

So I promised myself that these vacations I was not going to screw around and do nothing, but that I would study and read things I needed (and still need) to read for college, since I am now in two research groups, and they demand some of my time.

Today I sat down, and decided I was going to throw myself head long into the case I'm supposed to study and yet... And yet I ended up on my Live Journal looking for a copy of the Chart to send to a friend of mine. Oh, and all of that while trying to download the first episode of the fifth season of The L Word on a really slow internet connection.

Did I mention I'm at a vacation resort at Bahia?

Oh, yeah. My whole family is here and I've been acting straight for such a long time now that I am this close to freaking out. Actually, I have not been myself to a point in which whenever I engage on a conversation with my father or my stepmother I just blurt out comments about the lesbian world. I know my dad accepts gay people and all, but how desperate need a person be in order to do that?

I just... feel like I'm in the closet all over again, and that feeling creeps me out. I had made the decision to actually come out to my overly Catholic grandmother and my father's side of the family, but after three weeks with them I have decided I am not that bold. Also, I don't feel like the moment is right, since I really don't wish to spoil the trip or give my grandmother an opportunity to ask me stupid questions and annoy me to an even greater extent than she's managed to annoy me during the past weeks with her homophobic comments regarding other people.

The decision has, therefore, been indefinitely postponed, even though I hate the feeling that everyone knows I'm gay, and is being careful around me not mention a subject that could bring it up. But they all clearly already know, since nobody has mentioned marriage, kids or boys to me since I went to the countryside on December 19th. It is either a world record that they are taking such a long time to taunt me with inquiries regarding boyfriends, or the subject has become more tender than my family can swallow. Obviously, I would go for the second option.

On other news, I broke up with my ex-girlfriend for the second time, something I had never done before (this sounded like a paradox. I meant to say, I never broke up with anyone in my life "for the second time"). It was a weird experience, but a relieving one — not an offense to Chris, since I know that she has felt the same relief. As good lesbians that we (or I) are, we're still friends, and are doing ok.

Speaking of the girls in my life, my best friend is traveling on Friday, and I unfortunately won't see her until my birthday. I already haven't seen her in ages, so I'll have to figure out how to live without her hugs for a little while longer. We also decided to record a podcast about The L Word, which was pretty fun to do, and that we should keep recording for the next months as season five develops.

Speaking of season five, I'm now off to finish the first episode, and then, hopefully, get some work done.

Post scriptum: some people have added me during the hiatus, and I have no idea who some of them are, so please, if you're still around, identify yourself!

So, by some stupid lack of communication between the producer and the singer, Peaches' show was canceled, and I (obviously) didn't get to go, least of all record a happy video. I was pissed off, but decided not to let it get to me. I went to São Paulo anyway, had a great time with my friends, and am now back thoroughly pleased at the outcome of the weekend.

On a happier (not) note, tonight is the season finale of The L Word, and I'm just dying to see it. I hope the torrent comes out really soon.

( Some rambling about The L Word - no spoilers )

Now I'll go and try to get some sleep.

...I doubt I'll be able to go to class tomorrow without seeing the episode. It's all rather sad, really.

So, news on the rainbow side of the Force:


( Follow the yeallow brick road... )


I may actually record another one of those music-dubbing videos I made before Franz Ferdinand's show.

SO SO SO SO SO JUMPY.

INT. - JENNY AND SHANE'S HOUSE - BATHROOM - DAY

[Shane opens the bathroom door.]

Shane: Jen?

[Shane stops cold. Jenny is sitting on the bathroom floor, using the razor blade to cut up her legs. Her thighs are covered in blood.]

Shane: Jenny!

[Shane closes the door and immediately kneels next to Jenny and firmly but carefully takes her hand. She tries to take the razor away.]

Shane: Let it go.

[Jenny lets go of the razor. Shane sets it on the sink, then grabs a towel and carefully lays it on top of one of Jenny's bleeding thighs.]

Shane: It's all right, Jenny. Honey... Jenny...

[Jenny starts to sob. Shane wraps and arm around her and holds her.]

Shane: Alright.

[Jenny cries hard against Shane's shoulder.]

Shane: We're going to get you help. We'll get you help, okay?

[Jenny nods, then pulls back from the embrace, sniffling.]

Jenny: I need help... don't I? (uneasy chuckling) I'm really fucked up.

[Jenny sniffles.]

Shane: We'll get you help.

[Jenny nods.]

Shane: Alright?

[Jenny nods.]

Jenny: Okay.

[Jenny pulls the towel off her bleeding thigh and gawps at her leg.]

Shane: No...

[With most of the blood gone, we can see several long, angry red gashes in her leg, many of them on top of each other. Shane takes the towel away from Jenny, folds it again, and puts it back down on the wounds.]

Shane: I think I'll leave it to stop the bleeding.

[Jenny leans forward and puts her face in her hands. Shane pets her hair]

Jenny: Oh, fuck. (shaking head) Oh, fuck. (sniffling) Ugh.

[Shane hugs Jenny again. Jenny breathes deeply, and starts to cry again.]

Shane: Want to hear some good news?

Jenny: (uneasy laughter) What? What?

Shane: Tina had her baby.

Jenny: She did?

Shane: Mm-hmm.

Jenny: No.

Shane: Mm-hmm.

[Jenny laughs quietly, crying.]

Jenny: Are you serious?

Shane: (nodding) She had a little baby girl.

Jenny: Oh, my God. Is she okay?

Shane: Mm-hmm.

[Jenny is laughing and crying.]

Jenny: That's beautiful... (nodding) that's great. Oh, my God, I'm so... Oh... (chuckling) come here.

[Jenny hugs Shane, laughing.]






















...And that's how much Shane loves Jenny.

Gotten at brainbucket:

You scored as The Student Dyke. Your entire life is defined by two things: your intellect and your sexuality; moreover you often merge the two to lure in women. </td> The Student Dyke 60% The Vaginal-Reference-Making Dyke 55% The Stud 40% The Pretty-Boi Dyke 40% The Quasi-Gothic Femme 20% The Magic Earring Ken Dyke 20% The Bohemian Dyke 15% The Femme Fatale 15% The Hipster Dyke 15% The Granola Dyke 10% The Little-Boy Dyke 5% The Surprise! Dyke 5% The Sprightly Elfin Femme 5% What Type of Lesbian Are You? (Inspired by Curve Mag.) created with QuizFarm.com

Seriously, this was so accurate I had to post it. *laughs*

[Shane walks into a large exhibit that is a dazzling roomful of mirrors and softly glowing neon lights. Cherie is there. Shane quietly walks up behind her, her image reflecting a dozen times in the mirrors.]

Cherie: You heard him. He'll kill you.

Shane: (hesitant) You know... my entire life, people have said that... I would become a psychopath if I didn't learn how to feel.

[Cherie turns around and faces Shane.]

Shane: But I wanna know, Cherie, what the fuck is so great about feeling? Because I finally let myself. And I feel like my heart's been completely ripped out.

Cherie: I'm sorry.

Shane: I had this insane idea that you and I could be together. Because it felt real.

Cherie: It was a delusion.

Shane: Then I'm delusional. Because, I swear you felt the same way about me.

[Shane looks crushed. Even though Cherie speaks gently, her words sting.]

Cherie: What if I did? What difference would it make? What if, in the time we spent together, I felt more alive than I have in the last 20 years of my life? What if that were true? Do you think that I would leave my husband? My child, my... houses in Bel Air and East Hampton, my trips to Paris? My black tie galas?

Cherie: To run to some... rank little love nest, with a 25-year-old... assistant hairdresser... who barely has her foot in the door? (near tears) In this fucking ugly world, that kind of love does not exist.

[Shane stares at Cherie, wounded. After a moment, she walks away.]

Can anyone, please, explain why the hell it took me so long to start watching this series?

Thank you.

So completely in love with Shane.