Starstruck

Listening to: James Morrison
Currently reading: The Tea Rose by Jennifer Donnelly 

See what it says at the top of the poster, Star Struck. Charlie Cox is a babe. Like a younger Olivier Martinez.  In the famous words of Meems, me likey 

I really enjoyed watching The Bourne Ultimatum.

I’ll stop there because I know a lot of people hate even the slightest hint and intend to make their own analyses and come up with their own opinions but I will say this, Jason Bourne, for me, will never get old.

P/S: Vena, this still means that if you want me to go watch it with you again I will because he is that cool 

There. Plus the beach on a Friday – deserted… wonderful. Fish and chips? Awesome ass. Rocky Road + Rum & Raisin from Baskin Robbins = stupendous (ei, Noons? ) and finally Matt Damon in all his gun wielding, scooter riding, car chasing glory = priceless.

The company : the best part.  :)

There. My wonderful night.

I also have to say, that I never knew how important it was to have people who love you enough to buffer your fall and assure you that it’s okay to take a few time outs because when you do they’d cover your ass until you’re ready to start again.

Thank you everyone who had so many assurances for me when I was pretty bad off two days ago. Reading all those comments you guys left for me, made me want to cry. The good kind of cry, mind you.

God bless you guys for making me feel as sheltered and as protected as I do.  Goodness knows, my life would be nothing as it would be now, if God had not led me to all you guys. Every single one of you.

And since you got my ass, you know, I’ll always have yours.

In a totally non-sexual way of course.

P.s. in response to Noon’ tag: you didn’t think I’d forget did you

5 Things

5 things in your bag:
- my purse
- lip gloss &  foldable comb
- keys
- umbrella with a broken handle 
- moi Nokia

5 things in my wallet:
- cash
- cards – ATM & student
- pics
- appointment cards/restaurant contact details
- metro tickets

5 favourite things in my room:
- my posters  – especially the  ’Oh Shit!’ 
- my rad purple bean bag, Billy  :)
- my indo mee 
- my soft puppy, Russel
- my landline – would die without my phone.

5 things that I want to do:
- to graduate
- to have no limits on my credit card
- to meet the man who discovered chocolate so that I can kiss him and thank him for being the only man to discover how to please a woman unconditionally… 
- to learn to play the guitar so that I can learn to accompany myself   :p
- to learn to learn: Adelaide Life Impact.. no la, erm, to meet someone famous, someone I’m STARSTRUCK with, and ask them if they really are gay…that’ll show everyone  :D

5 things that am doing now:
- doing this tag
- swooning over Jason Bourne
- listening to Texas on my iTunes shuffle
- revelling in the fact that it is Friday and that I am barefoot in pajamas with a weekend to look forward to
- updating Friendster and toying with the idea of getting Facebook (amidst much mental resistance).

There you go – am tagging…hmm, everyone actually. If you wanna do this tag, go ahead. It’s kinda fun

 :D

Trainwreck

Listening to: This is the Last Time – Keane
Currently reading: The Tea Rose

WARNING: Major ranting ahead with uber negativism. It’s a night for Keane and the Mirrorball album. If you’re all glitter and glamour tonight, move along. The following is a trainwreck of despair and self-pity.

“Try to stay awake and remember my name - everybody’s changing and I don’t feel the same.”

Stupid spam. For the millionth fricking time – no, I don’t want to enlarge my penis OKAY?

I’m in a really bad mood today. Which is a drastic change seeing as how I wore my No Fcukin Worries t-shirt to uni last week. Today was more like a Don’t Fcuk With Me t-shirt day. Nothing and I say nothing, could have cheered me up. I was so depressed I almost cried in the uni cafeteria OKAY? Like, how Broadway right?

Then to make matters worse I watched a relationship crumble before my eyes after only one week of infancy. 

Australian Idol sucks the big one this year, if possible there were three outstanding contestants in the top 24, the other 21 who brought their game faces to auditions decided to leave it at home on the one night that was supposed to count the most. And then Australia put through a lot of those people and left some really big talent in the stands. And I know you like her Yowie, but I have to honestly say, Lana? Really?

And the judges, snore - Can someone get Mark Holden a card with a bad joke limit please, because seriously, he’s running way low and needs some boundaries.

Well, I suppose I shouldn’t be talking so much if I didn’t vote but at 55 cents a text (or something) I think I’ll just stick to moodily scowling throughout entire performances at a stretch.

Yes I know I get passionate about a lot of things but fuck you, if they’re big to me what’s it to you? Go save the world and solve world hunger and then come talk to me about priorities.

I think today was the day I took off my rose coloured glasses and realised that I don’t know what I’m doing with my life, I don’t know where I’m going and I don’t how how to get there. I feel hollow and desperately need to find some perspective here otherwise I’m going to be a drag to be around. I’m in my final year and I love uni and don’t ever want to leave it because this is my comfort zone and who the hell knows what else is out there.

So yes, all this angst is projecting from a much deeper place of confusion and well, for lack of a better word, adolescence almost. It’s nothing to do with Idol or uni or whatever else seems minor at the moment. I was in a dream-like haze all of last semester, this time it almost seems as though I am passively resisting it. Does that make sense – passive resistance? Doing something without really doing anything at all?

I don’t have it all together the way a lot of people assume I do, it’s a daily effort and then one day it all comes crashing down around you and it’s time to start again.

And I am fully aware that many may think my problems are chickenshit compared to theirs but really - my problems are my shit and that’s what makes them special to me. So get some flying lessons and buzz off if you can’t handle that.

It took me so long to figure out that this is what I wanted to do and now that it’s time to make a real go of it and make some new decisions. And again I feel underprepared, overwhelmed, out of my league and all around messed up.

These are the reasons for me to cheer up by tomorrow:

1. It’s 27 degrees – beach weather. Skirt-wearing weather. Thongs, finally.

2.
…
…
…

I got nothing else. What do you have?

Back

Listening to: The Wallflowers – One Headlight
Currently Reading: Stupid lab protocol while chatting on the phone and Facebooking.

One guy gets a girlfriend and I am back to him. Gets me every time.

Yes. yes. yes. YES. 
Seven.
If you get my drift.

http://wetforwent.wordpress.com/2007/04/05/wentworth-millers-modeling-tips/

Fecking funny she is. I get her. Lol.
God bless this man.

And you all too.
These pics really made my day man. You have no idea how disillusioned I was. And I hadn’t even read my lab protocol yet, hehe.

Anyhoo tc my babies.
Mwa!!

Encore

Listening to: All American Rejects Currently Reading: The Tea Rose – Jennifer Connelly

“Security is knowing you will always be part of the gang.” – Peanuts

From chocolate cake to tiramisu, bitching about Halle Berry (and her damned perfect ass), to fighting over who’s got the naughtiest face and secret recordings; from Peanuts to new wallets, chocolates and gift hampers to photographs and memories…Happy Birthday Noonie

Being marooned on an island  is alright when there are people like you to *poke incessantly* , to share good music with interspersed with insane laughter, frequent Friends quotes, exchanging gossip and laughter, support and all around good times.

To a very Stupendous Dude, happy 21st!!

stupendousdude with
thenamegang
 

And just as a by the way, a few quotes from some of my all time favourite people:

Phoebe: Hey. Why isn’t it Spidermen? You know, like Goldman, Silverman.
Chandler: Because, it… it’s not his last name.
Phoebe: It isn’t?
Chandler: No. It’s not like Phil Spidermen. He’s a spider man. You know, like Goldman is a last name but there’s no gold man.
Phoebe: Oh, oh okay…
Phoebe: There should be a gold man!

 [Re: "If you had to give up sex or food, which would you pick?"] Monica: Sex!
Chandler: Seriously. Answer faster.
Monica: I’m sorry, sweetie. When she said “sex” I wasn’t thinking of sex with you.
Chandler: It’s like a big hug.
Phoebe: Ross, how about you? Sex or food?
Ross: Sex!
Phoebe: What about sex or dinosaurs?
Ross: My God, it’s like Sophie’s Choice.
Phoebe: Joey, if you had to give up sex or food, which would you pick?
Joey: I don’t know it’s too hard.
Rachel: Come on, you have to answer.
Joey: Okay… sex. No, food. No, uh… I want both! I want girls on bread!

Joey: Hey Ross. If homo sapiens were in fact “homo sapiens”, could that be why they’re extinct? 
Ross: Joey, homo sapiens are people.
Joey: Hey! I’m not judging here. 

Ross: This is so exciting, I haven’t seen my monkey in almost a year. Chandler: What, you never look down in the shower?
[pause]
Chandler: Oh, please. I’m not allowed to make one joke in the monkey-is-penis genre? 

Joey: Pheebs, you wanna help?
Phoebe: Oh I wish I could, but I really don’t want to.

Monica: Joey, what would you do if you were omnipotent?
Joey:I’d probably kill myself.
Monica: Excuse me?
Joey: Hey, if “Little Joey”’s dead, then I got no reason to live. 
Ross: Uh, Joey… Omnipotent.
Joey: You are? Ross, I’m sorry. 

 [a ritual to get rid of bad-boyfriend karma]
Phoebe: Okay, now we need the sage branches and the sacramental wine.
Monica: All I have is oregano and a Fresca.
Phoebe: That’s okay.
[Adds them]
Phoebe: All right, now we need the semen of a righteous man.
Rachel: OK, Pheebs, you know what? If we had that, we wouldn’t be doing the ritual in the first place. 

Ross: First divorce: wife’s hidden sexuality, not my fault. Second divorce: said the wrong name at the altar, kind of my fault. Third divorce: they shouldn’t let you get married when you’re that drunk and have stuff drawn all over your face, Nevada’s fault. 

Rachel: See? Unisex.
Joey: Maybe you need sex. I just had it a few days ago.
Rachel: No, Joey, U-N-I-sex.
Joey: I wouldn’t say no to that. 

Joey: Rach, you gotta find out if he’s in the same place you are. Otherwise, it’s just a moo point.
Rachel: A moo point?
Joey: Yeah. It’s like a cow’s opinion. It just doesn’t matter. It’s moo. Rachel: Have I been living with him too long or did that all just make sense?

 [Upon hearing Ross "practicing" the bagpipe for their wedding in honour of Chandler's Scottish roots]
Monica: Why must your family be Scottish?
Chandler: Why must your family be Ross? 

Joey: Oh, yeah. Go for it man, jump off the high dive, stare down the barrel of the gun, pee into the wind.
Chandler: Yeah, Joe, I assure you if I’m staring down the barrel of a gun, I’m gonna be pretty much peeing every which way. 

(upon revealing the secret that Chandler had once accidentally kissed a guy)
Chandler: You wanna tell secrets? Okay. In college, Ross used to wear leg warmers.
Ross: All right. Chandler entered a Vanilla Ice look-a-like contest…and won.
Chandler: Ross came in fourth and cried.
Ross: Chandler got drunk one night and slept with the woman who cleaned our dorm.
Chandler: That was you.
Ross: Whatever dude. You kissed a guy. 

 And one of my favourite Phoebe quotes: I may play the fool at times but I’m a little more than just a pretty blonde girl with an ass that won’t quit. 

Monica: Are you sure you peed on the stick right?
Rachel: How many ways are there to do that?

 [talking about Ralph Lauren]
Joey: I hate his underwear. one time I brought a pair marked XS and let me tell you there’s no room for anything excess in there.

Phoebe: I remember the day I got my first paycheck. There was a cave-in in one of the mines, and eight people were killed. “
Monica: Wow, you – you worked in a mine? “
Phoebe: No, I worked in a Dairy Queen. Why? 

Phoebe: Ok, I got an idea. If it’s a girl, Phoebe, naturally. And, if it’s a boy… Phoebo.
Ross: Uhh… Sure, but let’s not limit ourselves to just one name. Rachel: Ok, I got one. If it’s a girl… Sandrine. It’s French.
Ross: That’s a great name… for an industrial solvent.
Rachel: Ok, you got a better one?
Ross: Yeah, check this out. If it’s a boy – Darwin.
Rachel: Yes, Ross, I do want a son who’ll be regularly beaten in the schoolyard.
Phoebe: By Sandrine

Monica:I think I’d be great in a war. I’d, like, get all the medals. Chandler: Before or after you’re executed by your own troops? 

Ross: I love marriage!
Phoebe: Seriously? You? Divorce-O?
Ross: If you’re going to call me names, I would prefer Ross, the Divorce Force. It’s just cooler.

And last but not least:
Chandler: I’m not so good with the advice, could I interest you in a sarcastic comment?  

Humdinger

Listening to: Getaway – Stereophonics
Currently Reading: Wild Oats – Victoria Henry

Okay in my defense, I don’t mean to sound rude, but this came up in a past conversation and I don’t think it was ever resolved and again, I don’t mean to be rude but this one is a humdinger. If you know it – help us out ok?

What is the BM word for “orgasm”? Because seriously, I’m stuck at kedatangan…

KrispyKremes

Listening to: The Darkness
Currently Reading: Wild Oats – Veronica Henry 

I didn’t know how much I missed you until you walked through the front door carrying those Krispy Kremes No but really, Krispy Kremes aside, welcome back hon 

Another thing I didn’t know:

I didn’t know how much uni stress was affecting me until they started manifesting themselves in the weird Early Morning Events (EMEs) at a time that Kelvin likes to call the witching hour.

Note: all three EMEs occured independently but within two nights of each other.

EME number 1:
I had a nine am class and as usual when I woke up it was still dark out. So I got ready to go take a shower and then decided to sneak a peek at my clock to see how much snooze time my body could negotiate with my brain when I realised it was only 3.30 am and that my alarm clock had not even rung yet.

EME number 2:
I woke up in the middle of the night and switched on my lights and began searching in the folds of my comforter for my microscope slides feeling confidently sure that I had left some there…When I couldn’t find them I just decided to look for them in the morning and went back to sleep. I only realised how messed up that was until I woke up at a more humane hour the next morning.

EME number 3:
I found myself asking Barath on the phone two nights ago how his experiments were going…for those of you who don’t remember he’s doing a degree in computing and software engineering…I was half asleep and apparently in my subconscious everyone has lab related careers.

These EMEs were the only ways my subconscious knew to tell me to freaking sleep because apparently my alert consciousness did not see a  need for it. I went a bit mad on Friday night and in a mad overhaul to control my  nerves I cleaned my entire room and threw out stuff that I had been hesitating to do so before because I’m a “storer.” I store more junk than I throw away because I assign lots of measly old ratty pathogenic things with sentimental value. I threw most of them away in an attempt to bring order to my life because apparently I was losing control over my subconscious.

Howver that’s not how it works and turns out all I needed was sleep. Today I learned how to look my lab supervisor in the eyes at 5 pm sharp and say “I’ll see you tomorrow but right now I have somewhere to be.”

And I did. I got back while it was still light, caught the end of my favourite radio show, sat in my favourite bean bag (Billy) with my legs up on my bed and forgot all about slides for one precious afternoon.

Good feeling that.

Tumbledry

Listening to: I Miss You Now – Stereophonics
Currently Reading: A Journal Article (slay me now!)

As any ordinary person learning to live alone for the first time, I have had my fair share of laundry troubles. Two main problems are all people talk about with respect to laundry mishaps.

The first is the infamous red sock in your white laundry which thereby leads to a horrible hybrid assortment of beige, pink and blood red clothes. The second is the equally infamous shrunken clothing conundrum. But really, who’d be stupid enough to have their washing set to Hot? Everyone knows that.

So when I gained membership to the Living On Your Own Club,  I automatically got admitted into the  Do Your Own Laundry Society – comes with the territory I’m told. Anyway, I’ve been aware of all the stigma regarding horrible laundry mishaps and have been very cautious about mixing my whites and my coloureds and setting the washing machine to Cold.

Well, the first few times anyway. After awhile, things get old and you begin to think you’re a veteran launderer (primarily of clothes). You toss everything in, spin the dial with the experience of an old hand, glance at the settings with your peripheral vision and come to collect your freshly laundered clothes after watching an episode of Desperate Housewives.

Until the troubles begin. Three months ago, I suddenly found myself taking out of the laundry a leopard-like white pair of trackies suddenly spotted pink. Followed by a (previously) white t-shirt with (now) pink half-sleeves. I found the offending article of clothing lodged neatly at the bottom of my washing – a red t-shirt I had been too lazy to wash by hand. Suffice to say, bleaching did not work and I was lucky it did not get unto any other clothes.

But once was enough. After two and a half years of doing laundry I had gotten careless and had been caught by the Laundry Bug. Never going to happen again, I told myself.Everytime since I carefully separated my clothing and checked the dials before tossing my dollar coin in. At least I had never shrunk any of my clothes.

Today was Laundry Day. Woke up at ten am (which on a weekend is a big deal to me) in order to wrestle the machine from everyone else. I did everything on automatic.

Shove coloureds in, set dials to Cold, set Timer, slotted in dollar coins and shoved Start. Removed washing, transferred to tumble dryer, set dial, checked timer, tested to see if it could work for free, shoved in dollar coin when proven wrong, Start. Dry twice due to cold weather (winter is shit for line drying clothes and besides I just wanted to go back to bed). Bring clothes up, fold, put away, enjoy lunch while watching Ugly Betty.

My next problem occured somewhere between folding my clothes and putting it away. I found among my clothing, a top I had always found to be too big  for me and extra long but which I had never bothered to exchange. It was now smaller – in fact in just my size. I stared quizically at it.

I pressed Cold right? This is my top, right? I turned over the label and it said Supre, yep it’s mine. But, why is it small? I followed all the instuctions and all my other clothes seem to be normally sized. I turned over the brand label and stared at the frayed Instructions label and tried to make out the first line which was blurred. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to wash it Cold? And then I read out loud:

Do Not Tumble Dry. Line Dry Immediately. Made in China.

…
…
…

Damned Laundry Bug will get you at anytime no matter what. Even on a technicality. 

Well.
At least the top fits me now.  :)

Idle

Listening to: Fool – Cat Power
Currently Reading: The State of Grace – Catherine Donnelly

Tired of running, she sits by the still lake of her life and stares out into the clear waters silently asking for some ripple that will show her she is still truly alive. It is funny how complacency can very quickly replace anger or righteousness, how you can learn to adapt to situations, any situation.

She realises how easily some people can slip on their rose coloured glasses in order to see life with the false security of a colour, any colour at all, with the pretense that they lead vibrant lives of excitement and light, passion and emotion. But it will never be enough. Not when everyone knows there is always something real - that which requires no hiding places behind the facades of our own making.

And she realises that just as easily, we can do the opposite, and turn a blind eye to all the colour that does exist in our lives, for the shallow request of something more “refined.”Something more “socially acceptable” or “politically correct”.

Black is, after all, the new black.

And just like that, you find yourself sitting idly, wishing for life, while life itself passes you by.

aGAPe

Listening to: I Don’t Wanna Know – Hinder
Currently Reading: The Tale of Grace – Catherine Donnelly

He is the face for the new September ad campaigns for Gap.
Just look at him.

That my friends, in case you missed it, is John Mayer.
Faints.
Drools.
Dies.

This is courtesy of Anisha who was quite prepared for my orgasmic death squeals. Cheers 

The Accidental Dweeb

Kel, your explanation doesn’t do your blog title justice until this is seen:

I present you the genesis of the Accidental Dweeb.
He struck for the first time in Stirling. 3 Unassuming Girls who were just there to see the wildlife reserve and have a picnic.
Innocent. Unsuspecting.
Until they found him in their pictures…
…this is The Accidental Dweeb explained.