Lost Supposedly Funny Dragoness

 This September I travelled with a friend from Tallinn, Estonia to Slovenia. The plans (you can read about the planning of the trip here ) got some major changes due to the floods in a large part of Central Europe (including Czechia and Hungary), so we flew directly from Poland to Italy. More detailed posts and some fun stories about this exciting experience will follow soon. Let's get one thing straight first: we (my Polish friend and I) have problems with spending money. Even though we could afford to go out for a meal or at least a cup of coffee, we refuse to do so. Our obsession with saving money might be one of the reasons why the cost of the trip was extremely low: all the costs of transport and accommodation (we spent a lot of time staying with friends and me, to be fair) for fifteen days add up to 258 € (food not included, but we lived mostly on instant noodles and discounted bread). Let's break this down: ·         my transport to Treviso airport: 29,00 € ·         pl

 I've been extremely confused and a bit stressed lately with the university year starting and I accidentally turned up two hours early for a Buddhist lecture, so I wandered around, went to see and feed my sister's and her girlfriend's cats and felt a sudden craving for something sweet. I ate two biscutis I found in their flat (pay for my hard work cleaning the cats' litter box or something) and immediately felt guilty. I'd already had a couple of crepes with chocolate spread after lunch, while my disordered mind only allows one dessert, so I knew I'd have to cut back for dinner. To feel a bit fuller and make it easier to skip dinner later (which I didn't, shame on me, I have no control and now I can physically feel myself getting fatter), I wanted to buy a can of Pepsi Max or the sugar-free version of Cockta. I would even be fine with Coca Cola Zero. But it just so happened that the first two stores only had bottled versions of the sugar-free drinks. Yes, it

I'm not a big fan of the way this post turned out, but I hope you understand what I was trying to say. A couple of days ago I was drinking and while walking home from the pub (for about forty minutes, but at least I saved five euros, so it was worth it), I had a revelation: I don't even mind being numb. I just feel numb about being numb. This year has been emotionally draining. Or at least it should have been, moving to another county and then back home, leaving all my international friends behind, knowing that I might never see some of them again. I also had a little failed situationship going on for a few months, I've been distancing myself from someone who used to be my best friend and working with orphan babies was not supposed to leave me unbothered. The anorexia peaked this year and here I am, not seeking help because I just don't care that I might be ill. For the last few months I've been trying to make myself feel something, reading poetry and novels that us

Here's the deal: I'm obsessed with stressing. I don't know if it's a force of habit or if it's in our nature (I should ask a biopsychologist or someone who knows a bit more about this) or if I'm just mentally unstable, but I can't seem to relax completely. Don't get me wrong: if I decide to watch 90 Day Fiancé (it makes me feel better about my non-existent love life, sue me), eat sponge cake and rot on the couch all day when I'm home alone, I have no problem doing that. The thing is, I'm not calm at all while I'm rolling around on the sofa trying to decide if I want to get up to get a glass of water. It's normal to be stressing during examination period at the university because I have a valid - I mean, is it really valid if we look at how my life is just a glimpse of time in the universum? (this is something I like to ask myself while deeming if it's worth studying for my law exam) - reason for that, I should really get my degree so

This time on Dragoness's Rants: unpaid internship for Slovenian social work students. As this post is particularly important for our country, the Slovenian version follows. I am a third year student at the Faculty of Social Work (FSD). Practically from the first day at the faculty, I knew that social work was something I wanted to do for the rest of my life. We have a very well organised internship system at our faculty: in the first year every student has to do one hundred hours of internship and forty hours of compulsory humanitarian work spread over the whole academic year, and the same system is in place in the second year. In the third and fourth years, the Faculty of Social Work follows a four-plus-one system (four years of undergraduate studies and one of Masters studies), we have one hundred and sixty hours of cumulative practice. You can imagine that in these five years - many students choose to do a Master's degree as it makes us much more employable - we get a lot of

If we gain weight, we'll be ugly, no one will like us, we won't find a partner. If we lose weight, we don't look healthy and it's time for us to finally eat something, because nobody likes just bones. If our muscles are too big, we are too masculine. If they're too small, we are weak. If we have long hair, we are too concerned with the way we look. If we have short hair, we could spend some time on our appearance. If we don't sleep with every man, we're bitches. If we have sex with lots of men, we are whores. If we know a lot about a subject, we are just showing off. If we don't study, we're simply proving the stereotype that we're stupid. "Females" as people on the social media like to call us are obviosuly unable to do anything right. Whatever we do, according to the same people, we will always end up dying alone with a bunch of cats. Because supporting a husband and bringing up as many children as he wants is - or should be - every