I.

Oh, to the emails I would like to complete and actually hit send but which will never come to be.

A Short Disaster

Listening to: Powderfinger
“My happiness slowly creeping by”

Saturday was a day I had marked on my calendar to help my friend move house. Since we were all meeting at uni before heading out to her place, I dressed in my dirtiest raggiest shorts and an old t-shirt with a bad joke on the front and wore my most worn out tongs and came into uni. The second I stepped out of the lift, I bumped into two of my friends who looked at me and literally gave me a shocked once over but then the moment was over.

Surprisingly, everyone else was dressed respectably in slacks and pants, some even wore skirts (and make up) which left me thinking, omg, at least I’m dressed appropriately for a dusty, tiring, long moving day.

Until I found out that the moving excuse was just a ruse my darling friends has cooked up to get me into uni so that they could take me out for an early birthday surprise.

And there I was traipsing around Sunway in my ugliest, most raggedy clothing. My mother (who can’t even take it if I don’t comb my hair) almost had a coronary when she heard about it while taking in my attire. The italics she used in every inflection leaves little to the imagination.

But for once, she wasn’t overreacting; you should have seen the pair of shorts I had initially intended on wearing (think patterned horrors). Thank goodness for some initial foresight that forced me to change into more socially acceptable ones, else I wouldn’t have been allowed into some of the places that day.

I always manage to do stuff like this.
Someone more classy and genteel would have somehow worn her cutest shorts and ended up looking like the heroine of the day. I am lucky if I managed to pull off looking human at all.
Oh well, at least nothing much has changed.

Happy (advanced) birthday to me.

Me Likea

I’m perusing (okay, drinking in every detail of) the 2009 catalogue from IKEA (if you want to pronounce it correctly ala the Swedish way, it’s ee-kay-uh not eye-kee-yah) and I swear I could implode with want. Seriously, the colours and shapes and sizes and fits. Not to mention, they proclaim about a million times how much they’ve tested something so many times to parallel the support it would give if your fat uncle sat on your armrest about 29,000 times for 9 years (or thereabouts) that you start to wonder if it’s true, because if I had a fat uncle he wouldn’t be allowed to sit on the armrest of my brand new IKEA three seater once much less 29,000 times, thank you very much.

Oh and look what I found: a FELICIA series product

From L-R : 100% silk cushion cover, $9.99 (available in 6 colours); 2 panel curtains with tie-backs, $49.99 (4 colours for you to choose from) & Acrylic throw, $12.99 (6 colours).

No, not the most exciting range but it’s a start, hey? 

I was mostly looking for ideas on how to decorate my room and I have so many but I don’t know just how the bold and bright ideas in catalogues would exactly translate in an Asian setting. Plus, a beautiful teal wall looks modern and vibrant but would it still look so after about 3 years of staring at it while you sipped your coffee?

I once visited a home that had artistic shades of red, canary yellow and green to section off areas of the living room, kitchen and dining area. At first glance, you could tell it began as a good concept in somebody’s head, but unfortunately had not turned out so well in reality. It looked a bit messy and my mother, who I had been trying to convince at the time to paint a section of the TV room a dark mustard, immediately cut the idea off at the knees.

However it needn’t be so, you can pull it off with the right accompanying colors and furniture. White and beige walls work so well because virtually any kind of furniture can blend in well with it, it’s minimum effort with maximum effect. But if you want to take a risk, then it has to be calculated with a certain degree, and it can be done. So with a little bit of smart planning and daring, you might actually be quite pleased with the result.

Besides, if you hate the effect with enough passion, you can always paint over it.

Now, all I have to do is convince my mother.
Unfortunately all my wild ideas are reigned in by her stamp of approval. Which unfortunately still subscribes to the white-walls-work-best idea.

So if you don’t have the 2009 catalogue in your hands and you’re interested, you can go online to browse at your own leisure.

Until then allow me to drown in my own glee.

Of frap-laced perspectives

Listening to: Grace Potter & The Nocturnals
“I don’t wanna fight this war.”
Currently reading: Sophie Kinsella – Remember Me

I went to Starbucks yesterday (mental cheer for those absolutely indulging money making corporations!), curled up with a dark cherry frappucino (two thumbs up, way better than Coffee Bean and their Christmas promotions) and my thesis and proceeded to tear apart my own work for two hours while listening to Christmas carols as it rained outside.

This is in preparation for my defense on Wednesday, not like I’m trying to be purposefully self-mutilating, but the only way I can prepare for a defense session is to be as harsh on myself as possible so I (a) know what to expect and possibly how to answer the queries that may arise and (b) don’t keel over with shock or (c) completely break down. Point (a) is extremely necessary so that points (b) or (c) do not come to fruition.

The conclusion of the entire process was that I was either too harsh on myself (although I don’t think I was) or my work was complete and entire shit. Again I say it’s probably the latter and at least now I’ve prepared myself mentally (and emotionally) for the slaughter on Wednesday. It’s good to be prepared right? Ignorance is NOT bliss is this case, right? Tell me I’m right.

So yes, my self esteem was at an utter low last night helped not by the instant caffeine and sugar rush but my parents keep saying, if God is with you, that is all the Help you ever need. And I have to admit, He has bailed me out of stickier situations than these (stories of which I cannot go into right now for fear of incriminating myself).

I don’t believe in wishbones or black cats but I used to have this weird habit of not talking about my fears because I am afraid that it will jinx my chances. Like if everyone knew how I was feeling about something, it would make the fears materialize. But, I’m tired of superstitions. Better to be upfront about feeling human, than to put on a facade of strength and go about hiding behind a cloak of fear. No more. So nowadays, I vomit out my feelings and feel a little liberated.

I don’t say good luck anymore because I don’t believe that luck dictates anything, I don’t believe that there are such things as coincidences or chance happenings. So I say all the best, because in anything you do, you give it your best and hope for the same because there is a providence at work that is greater than Lady Luck, who from what I have heard, is nothing but fickle. Imagine giving it everything and then have all your hopes dashed just because of a stroke of bad luck, such randomness and its purpose is beyond me. So yes, my fears are that I may bomb at my defense but I will give it my best and pray hard. God willing, I will get through this.

This public confessional thing is new to me but I’m trying it out in the hopes of adopting a new fear-free mental state.

Here’s to Wednesday.

Effing P(%$&^)M(%$%#)S(&$#)

Oh by the way I’m finally relatively free and I’m bored and when I’m left to my own devices these thoughts, just get in my way and bug me to death. Picking at me like little niggling insects with tiny crawlers and feelers, pricking at my sanity, driving me INSANE.

And I’m thinking of this GORGEOUS green dress I saw at a boutique that was 60 bucks and I bypassed it because it was too hot to stand around and admire it. I BYPASSED A GORGEOUS DRESS for RM 60. So now I’m whinging about it. Damn this country and it’s HUMID HOT WEATHER that makes you want to take off your own skin to use it as a shade.

Yea okay I must be having one of the worst PMSes ever because I am seriously getting pissed off with every little thing. Argh! It’s so fucking annoying to want to bite people’s head off and not have someone who deserves the head biting. And nobody is online so I’m ordering whoever is to talk to me, or else. And I’m hungry. I need to start praying more, I seriously feel disconnected right now. I know I know, somebody is gonna comment

1. PMS is normal, take a chill pill, relaxxxx. -_-

2. Hungry? So go eat. Double -_-

3. So pray more.

-_- So never mind, comment away but NO it’s easier said than done.

Fuckitall. I have to stop swearing.

But not today.

Bye Bye Benry

Listening to: Matchbox 20
“Everybody here is thinking about somebody else.”
Currently Reading: Second Glance – Jodi Picoult

SO.

I’m taking of my thesis writing hat to don an entrepreneurial one.

Ladies and germs, I have an iPod Nano to sell.
First generation, awesome condition, original silver backing, 2GB with the neccesary accessories.
Throwing in a leather cover plus an adaptor cable so you don’t need to hook up to a computer to charge.
RM200, negotiable. If I can sell it in a week, I’ll take RM15 off. Ask around, if we can make it a word of mouth thing will be great or you know my number so just message me if you’re interested or leave me a comment

That’s for the iPod.

Next, my favorites, Henry and Bernie have left TARA3!
(That’s The Amazing Race Asia for the plebs)

Haih, the best (or worst) part was I couldn’t even watch the whole thing because my thesis was due the next day so I watched the last fifteen minutes and to my UTTER HORROR, not only did Ida and Tania who came in LAST the past two episodes and got second and third chances, make it, but that Geoff and Tish were first AGAIN (I’m sorry Geoff is super annoying but it’s not like I know him personally to make more than a superficial judgement) but that it all resulted in Team Benry being last and consequently, eliminated.

(http://amazing-race-asia.axn-asia.com)

Au revoir, Benry.

Gonna miss you guys, I barely have the heart to watch TARA3 anymore since you guys are gone, seriously, the fact that you guys were such good sports in situations when I would have spouted fire out of my ears, are a credit to you both. Huuuugs!