Linking Angelique

Yes, I’m gonna study, really! I promise! I have written down my timetable and I plan to Blutack it to the wall… tomorrow. What, the Blutack’s in the garage! It takes too much effort. Oh, I’m so annoyed at that woman at work; she put me in such a bad mood. Ergh, I hate her! I don’t just dislike her, okay? I HATE her. *tears hair out* Cowcowcowcowcowmooawaysomewhereelse! I don’t wanna see you tomorrow or ever and I refuse to make myself work with you! Ishh!

*deep breaths*

ANYWAY. I just had to write about this! Because as you can see, I was in need of a laugh.

I read roughly 35 blogs on a weekly basis, some of them daily, and this figure excludes the ones that I also randomly decide to pop over to. One of them is Angelique, a 19 year old girl from Singapore. I have been reading hers for awhile now ever since I discovered her on Bloggies and I love the pictures she posts, the words she uses; she is so RANDOM! She’s typically very cheery and funny, which makes for a change from the usual emo-type blogs I read. Lol! Anyway, here are two excerpts from May 29th’s post entitled ‘Piercing Pains’, which the title should tell you lots about and cracked me up heaps:

For me it’s worse: I can’t lie on my tummy, can’t watch TV propped on my elbows and it is causing me much anguish because I LIKE LYING ON MY TUMMY. It is my human right to lie on my tummy. I DESERVE TO LIE ON MAH TUMMEH.

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As for why the piercing hurts… Google has humbled me! Because most of the answers I got were (and I am not even paraphrasing them): You just got stabbed with a piece of metal. It is a fresh wound. OF COURSE IT WILL HURT. And I was like, ohHhHHHhhHH! THAT MAKES SENSE. I know, right? To lose weight I should get liposuction on my head since I don’t use my brains anyway.

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Head over to her blog for more!

Imagine waking up to this…

‘I wish I could go back to the moment where I fell in love with you and relive that moment forever…’ (DB)

When did you fall in love? What did it feel like? Who was it with? What’s he or she like? Where were you? What was the weather like? What had you been doing prior to the moment? Where was he or she? What did you want to do after that?

Was it everything you thought it would be? Is it?

Now I answer my own questions.

I didn’t fall in love like this *snapping fingers*. The realisation hit me after it became clear to me that my own loss, or physical hurt didn’t matter so much as if he were to lose his feelings for me. And I didn’t want to tell him over the phone; I wanted him to be with me when I did, to be holding his hand, and kissing him afterwards. It gave me warmth, knowing that I felt this way about him; but at the same time, it felt so cold. I had this fear that I was ultimately giving him the knowledge that with this influence, he had this power to hurt me so easily, especially with me being fragile and my frustrating inability to handle two things that have so much emotional weight at the same time. But I believed that he would hold me through the tough times, and I still do.

He’s great. He’s intelligent, caring, generous, yes, I should stop here with one word descriptions. He lets me pick the movies (like, Made of Honor over Iron Man? =P) and the random choices like bubble tea flavour (he doesn’t even like Taro, oops). Traditional in his gentleman ways. Sends lovely smses. Great to his friends. Buys me gifts for nothing. Accepts me and my weird habits for me and my weird habits. Encouraging. Oh the kisses. And he looks yummy in a button-down shirt. Like I said, he’s great.

When I had finally realised it, I don’t remember what time of day it was, but I remember waiting, not wanting to scream it over the phone excitedly, like bad gossip. We were on our way to my favourite bar in the city when I finally I said it outside the noisy Irish pub with the bad music. The three words. It was the usual Brisbane weather, a bit cold since it was in the night. Before that, I was divulging the entire revelation process to him and we had bought movie tickets. He was right next to me, holding my hand. I love that feeling. After that, I realised that yes, whilst he had this power, he wouldn’t intentionally hurt me. And usually, that’s all that ever pains you when you’re really hurting: that someone had this malicious intention of causing harm towards you. So I just wanted to hold him for longer, steal a couple more kisses.

As the cliche goes, it was everything I wanted it to be. Fireworks didn’t light up the sky, rainbows didn’t suddenly appear, but they didn’t have to. As far as I could tell, that was my fireworks moment, and rainbows were splashed across the dark night sky. I had waited till I could say it to him in person, and knowing that he finally knew that I love him, feel the same way about him, was a very liberating feeling, rather than what I thought would’ve been a cause for frequent emotional vulnerability.

And it is especially in moments such as when I wake up to smses like this that I know that it is as elaborately, unbelievably beautiful as one could ever hope for.

How’s it going to be?

I just realised that it is mostly when I am alone that I wonder about the what-ifs and what-could’ve-beens as I sit here, contented, thinking, hey, it’s almost four months! His presents to me, even though I already know exactly what they are, are arriving next week, yay! My present to him is… a work in progress. Let’s just say it is frustrating the &^@&@($& hell out of me.

But back to my first statement, I have only just noticed that pattern. It is when I am single that I wonder what if I had never let you go, or what could’ve been between me and him. They make me write on postcards half-full of advertisements, or a notepad I felt the sudden urge to buy, with a pen I had to scramble in my bag for. Like the items in whatever bag I am using that day, the thoughts are everywhere, scattered, and I retrieve them one by one, smooth out its crumples and wrinkles and then sit there with my latte, trying to find the words that articulate them best. Soon, the latte is gone, I need to pee, and the postcards still only bear pathetic results of a struggle to clarify these thoughts swirling about in my head.

Fast-forward to today. It might still be difficult for me to make sense of my thoughts, but I no longer ponder on what-ifs and what-could’ve-beens all by myself; I only think of how to maintain this state of equilibrium that I never knew existed. It’s like all daydreaming and dreaming that involve others have ceased to exist, because there is simply no need; all that I want out of us is actually within reach. Whilst at the same time, my sensibility and pessimistic – even sometimes realistic – self is telling me not to walk blindfolded by this faith, isn’t this what it’s supposed to be like? Isn’t this what we’ve always talked about where love is concerned? This blind faith? Find me all those painful cliches you skirt around; I want them to be proven true.

So I’m holding his hand. And if he don’t let his fingers leave mine, I’ll be okay. Actually, I’m better than okay, with my head in the clouds right now, my eyes still shut with calm reassurance. Will he be okay?

Meet my study and bed partner, Wellington!

Isn’t he just adorable? *sigh*

Wellington is one of my 19th birthday presents from last November. He is soft, squishy and doesn’t think I’m fat. He also makes my queen bed seem smaller and I’m actually grateful for it, especially after being used to sleeping in single beds for four years. Yes, I am strange.

Anyway, Merv saw a picture of me with Wellington on my MSN display and after finding out that I have a French test in hours, he jokingly suggested that I should bring Wellington with me to it! And I thought, brilliant! I’ll just say ‘tu dois être gentil avec moi ou mon canard sera très en colère!’ which means ‘you should be nice to me or my duck will be very angry!’ Then, Merv tried to resist. But in the end, the duck won and he gave in:

Hahahahaha! Wellington’s a legend indeed.

Sorry, call this my 2 am madness whilst trying to cram a whole semester’s work into a night, also brought about by hot chocolate and countless biccies.

Ce soir, je suis une française!

Nah, not quite… but I could try. I’m gonna be studying French (or froggy as my dad puts it) all night if that’s what it takes.

And if I don’t mess up, hello high distinction!

Very probably, possibly, positively the only high distinction this semester.

A different value/belief.

I’ve got goosebumps all over, and it has nothing to do with winter. Maybe it’s the sudden flood of strange emotions that has taken over the ‘walking on air’ feeling that I had immersed myself in earlier today. I wish someone would rub my arms, tuck me in under the doona, and tell me that if I fall asleep now like a good girl, I will wake up to a better tomorrow with promises of sweeter things. But I can’t stop thinking about this.

There’s a confusion that won’t dispel and it gnaws at me like a scab I just have to pick at even though I know it will bleed and leave an uglier scar. The realisation that I make myself into an open book once I’ve allowed someone into an area I believe to be mine releases this torrent of vulnerability and frankly, slight stupidity. We never know who will end up leaving us, hold our hand, turn out to be the best backstabbers possible or lend us their shoulder to sob on. But I’ve always been perhaps a bit foolish like that; part of me believing that it’s only right to share and maybe if I do, it will help people to understand, stay a little longer. And in return, I expect the same. But of course, not everyone’s like that; not everyone’s like me. So I take a little longer all over again to really understand that with every new person that finds their way into my disfigured and disjointed heart.

It’s just a little disappointing, you know. Please understand if I’m not like you either.

Fashionably heartbreaking pieces.

Last night, a friend celebrated her birthday at a bistro with expensive food that was admittedly quite good (although it’s not my first time there) but atrocious service. The power of customer service is really more influential than people think.

Anyway, I was going to catch a drink before dinner when I chanced upon a boutique selling clearance items from Melbourne. I recognised quite a lot of them as I believe my old boss owns that factory. Even staff couldn’t purchase items that dirt cheap at everything going for $10! The shopping deprivation had to get to me eventually, so I bought a pseudo-dress for myself and three other items for friends. *guilty* I certainly did not expect to spend $80 ($40 for dinner) in one night, especially since I only put in less than 8 hours at work this weekend. Oops. Even though it’s not my fault that they messed up my schedule, dammit. I insist.

So. I still haven’t properly shopped in awhile. Let’s talk about all the treasures online that I’ve been going crazy about, which in turn keeps feeding that deprivation:

1. I’d love to spend my entire night on AnyaHindmarch.com Have you seen such pretty bags before? I couldn’t figure out how to ‘borrow’ the images but look at Jourdan & Bogart (part of their day bag collection), and Spider & Lulu (evening bag collection). *Sigh* I know Myer carries Anya, not sure about DJ’s, but why is it I’ve never seen such gorgeous pieces on the shelves? Not that I can afford them, but… pleasurable, yes?

2. Joyce blogged about the Prada fairy bag, so I went to the website. Check out the Spring Summer 08 Fantasy Lookbook! It’s so trippy!

A few that I couldn’t resist sharing:

3. My favourite site to buy accessories by independent designers: MadeIt.com.au

Clicking on them takes you to the respective suppliers’ pages. So easy to find all sorts of random kooky things here!

4. 2 words: black jacket. The first one by Agent 99 was spotted in what I believe it is this month’s Cosmo. And of course, it started a little fever that developed into a craving. Although it is the cheapest of the three, I believe it to be the hottest, no? The third one is also by Agent 99 whereas the 2nd one is by Madeleine Vintage. All from General Pants Co.

5. Of course, I’ve always had this thing for Topshop, further fuelled by their alliance with Kate Moss. Gotta love her style! Why are they not here in Australia, like Haagen Dazs?

Such pretty things for spring/summer 2008. *imagines lavender fields*

I could go on forever here (reminds me of Forever New), but the boyfriend has reminded me to study about four times today. *wince* I need to stop procrastinating!

Shall whine a little more about the things I want but don’t need next time.

Bonheur.

Bonsoir! Comment ça va aujourd’hui?

C’est mon premier essai d’écrire en français dans mon blog! Maintenant, c’est le deuxieme année que j’etudie le français. Il me plait beaucoup! Je pense que je dois exercice ma capacité. S’il y a beaucoup de fautes, je suis desolée, et dis-moi, s’il vous plait. Merci beaucoup!

Alors, vous savez que j’ai un copain. Ah, il me manques. Beaucoup, beaucoup! Mmm.. il travail ce soir. Je n’ai pas l’habitude de manquer quelqu’un comme ça. Peut-être je suis folle, mais… je pense que nous avons quelque chose de spécial. C’est un cliché, non? J’aime passer mon temps avec lui, et quand c’est le temps pour partir, je ne veux pas lacher son mains. Il me donne un sentiment différent d’autres hommes. Il est très sympa, généreux, intelligent, et aimant. Si je demande, il essaiera de m’apporter la lune. Je le crois. Et il me crois.

J’ai de la chance.

That look in those eyes.

I feel like the girl in the movie. The one who might be pure and innocent but no less worldly than he is. She slowly unbuttons her blouse and you can see that he has forgotten to breathe. She, on the other hand, realises that she needs to stop catching so many breaths. She’s sitting at the edge of the bed but she slowly moves backward, as if in invitation for him to follow her, even take her hand and lead her to this place where she has never gone before.

This isn’t a reference to sex. Not at all.

It’s when she looks up at him; that’s what I’m calling your attention to. It’s that look. The ‘I don’t know where we’re going, but take me there anyway’ look. It’s so crazy how we have this natural instinct to protect ourselves from whatever harm and danger might come our way, but we are ready to drop it all if the right person is reassuring us that we are safe in their hands. Sometimes, I feel like the one who’s about to break right there and then. Then I hold on, and remember how much harder it must be for you. The first time, that was also when I realised that I’ve forgotten what it was like before loving you.

Love you. More than yesterday, less than tomorrow.

Destination unknown

“And I didn’t want the train to come…” Duffy’s Warwick Avenue

It’s time for me to seriously hit the books. And stop procrastinating. This discipline has been evading me, dammit.

Worrying never did anyone any good. I ought to know that by now. Of course, there’s this obvious unspoken rule that it’s supposed to be motivational, keeps you on the edge. But then I feel almost as though the worry is pushing me in the opposite direction of where I should go. I can’t make myself do it. Where’s the drive, the ambition, the wanting and needing that gives me the goanddon’tstopnow attitude?

I suspect that maybe it’s because inside, I already know that I’ll never get there.