I think I’m drowning, asphyxiated

(Title is from Muse’s ‘Time Is Running Out’ – yes, I’m a rock chick when I wanna be)

Let’s do something a little different and pretend this is a play with only 2 characters.

Setting: Car
Characters: Me, Father
Time: 8 pm (after French class)
Moods:
Me – Period pain has subsided slightly (despite me earlier wanting to sue the pants off Panadol for taking so long – Nurofen, I shall never forsake you again) but I am still in pain.
Dad – I find out later that he’s still in a pissy mood

I called home, asking to be picked up from uni because I had been in unspeakable pain then, trying not to fall to the floor, and hunched over during class (though that helped to stop my tutor from asking me to answer questions, I think). You don’t need to know the exact details – the whole script revolves around me going ‘mmm’ and trying not to retort because then I’ll be a rude, ungrateful daughter (though I couldn’t help myself a few times) and my dad just ranting his head off about anything and everything in particular about my rubbish results, having everything handed to me on a silver platter *cue yawn because which one of us hasn’t heard this about a billion times now*, not maximing my opportunities, and then he stops himself from saying ‘fuck’ even though the ‘ffff’ sound was very clearly distinct.

Outside of the planned script (cause it certainly seems planned everytime he launches into his little tirade that has never failed to make me feel like it’s never going to end), was I really meant to tell you that I took $120 from the ATM to pay for my textbooks? That wasn’t the case last year (I didn’t buy any last semester), so how the hell was I meant to know and why on earth are you getting crabby at me? I mopped the fucking floor, didn’t I? And I didn’t accompany my dear cousin today, even though that’s what friends (maybe that word is foreign to him when it involves somebody else that is not him) do, what more with my closest. And you yelling at me this morning after you got off the phone with lousy phone operators for the cable TV – really, must you get annoyed at me just because I did, well, nothing to offend you?

Someone needs to get over himself and it sure as hell isn’t me because I used ‘himself’. Bleh. Annoyed fathers.

I dunno what’s up with the numerous brackets. Isn’t it brilliant (that word somehow NEEDS to be said with a posh London accent) how many I shoved in? Brilliant. BRILLIANT. Love that word!

Moving along now.

*************************************************

There’s been a drought here, hasn’t there? Of pictures, I mean. And since DB has been spoiling me big time, I just went around my room taking photos.

I’m a lucky girl, I know.

Just because I said I was crazy over this for awhile.

Yes, I like Kate Moss and this EDT, and I’ve only been wishing that Topshop will just decide to open up here!

After I told Trina he bought me that, she said he ruined the birthday present she had planned for me. So she went and bought me the body lotion. Lol!

Massive hot pink dreamcatcher – after I told him I get really weird dreams and even relate some of them to him.

This is what happened to that lovely bouquet of lillies after Jo helped me dry them in a big bundle. I reckon glass jars are cheap decorating staples!

I guess he didn’t like me keeping my accessories in plastic boxes with compartments, despite me trying to organise them everytime I get the chance. Hehe.

I finally have both bottles! The one on the left is the T’Gallant Juliet Pinot Noir and the other is the T’Gallant Juliet Moscato. Aren’t they pretty?

Yes, I realise the picture’s blur. Trinity thinks it’s pretty! Dress from Kookai. Since when did they mark down their stuff to below $25?! Why didn’t ANYONE tell me?! It was $24, megod. On a completely separate note, don’t like going shopping with DB because he insists on paying for my stuff.

That, and he buys me things he promised he wouldn’t.

Not very recognisable from that picture. No, he didn’t buy me an entire collection of John Lennon’s music.

Is this clearer? Wait, no, maybe not.

Yeah, it’s an Apple iPod Touch.

So this is how it went because I just HAVE to insist that I did say not to buy it, hmmph. BRAT!

We were talking on the phone two nights ago.

Me: So my lecturer records his lectures on video, and we can see the PowerPoint slides as we hear him speak. Too bad I don’t… wait, no, not telling you.

DB: What? Why?

Me: Well, I don’t want you to buy it. Everytime I tell you about things, you go out and buy them for me.

DB: So you’re not gonna tell me things? That hurts my feelings.

Me: Umm…. well, you have to promise you’re not gonna buy it.

DB: Maybe.

Me: Okay, so I was saying that it’s too bad I don’t have an iPod Touch. I should’ve agreed when my bro offered to buy me one, so I can watch the lectures too.

DB: Mmm.. yeah. I wouldn’t have bought you an Apple anyway.

(He hates Apple)

Me: Okay.

(and then the conversation went onto other stuff)

The next day, I call him to say I’ve finished class early and he tells me to do him a favour and come to the bus-stop. I was surprised since he didn’t have class and we didn’t plan anything. Next thing I know, we’re sitting outside when he tells me he has a present for me. Our six-month anniversary present. I said I’d wait till the actual day (MONDAY!!) till I open it, and that I have great willpower (yeah, whatever =.=), whilst still praying he wasn’t crazy enough to buy me an iPod Touch. When I mentioned this, he said, ‘Nahhh, I didn’t buy you that.’ PHEW! Then he said that it has an expiry date. I asked him if he wanted me to open it, and he replied no, that I should open it when I want to. So I didn’t.

Until we were sitting opposite each other in the Japanese restaurant. And he said, ‘I want you to open it.’

And so I did, slowly; I have this thing about trying not to rip wrappers. I sat there in shock, going OMGod, as I stared at it, now unwrapped.

‘You said you didn’t buy it for me!’

‘Well, I really didn’t plan on buying it for you last night. Then today, I just wanted to buy you an iPod!’

=.=” X10000000

‘You said you wouldn’t buy me an Apple!’

He looked at me like I was a 5 year old, and tried not to burst out laughing.

=.=” X 999999999999

Fine. Me is gullible. Him and his contract law mumbo-jumbo defence. It took me a longer while later that night to open the actual box. It’s brilliant, really (not just me trying to use that word again). I loved the features when my bro explained it to me and now, I love this one. It’s awesome sitting in uni, using the wifi. Youtube, yay!

*cough*

I mean, lecture videos!

Oops. *fat grin*

Now, I have pretty photos.

Mooloolaba’s Dockside.

A sign outside a cafe in Eumundi. Hehe, cute, innit?

Outside a shop selling touristy stuff.

Sweet.

And one from tonight:

Fettucini Di Pesto – with sundried tomatoes, olives and spinach leaves. It was positively DROWNING in olive oil. Yummy goodness, I tell you.

Hey… guess what I feel like?

A fricken Happy Meal. *sigh*

I think it’s also cause I’ve been listening to Lee Hom all day and it keeps going back to that song he recorded for McD’s.

‘Pa-da-pa-da-da!’

I blaming my time of month for this! So not lovin’ it.

Worry and relief – back and forth.

You’ll never know worry till it suddenly slaps you across the face… and it doesn’t seem to be stopping anytime soon. Nothing makes any sense, you question yourself over and over, nestling doubt even with familiar ground that you’ve threaded upon too many times to count, and it feels as though the world as you know it has just stopped to give you a big shove off its surface and you fall without knowing if you’ll ever land, much less on your own two feet.

In the same manner, you’ll never know relief till it washes over you in full force. You cradle your head in your arms as you slump to the floor, indulging yourself in a rocking motion back and forth, slowly instilling comfort, because the world has just begun moving again and dear God, you’re still in it. And then you vow never to make mistakes again, swear a complete character change, whilst laughing off your stupidity (because it’s the only way that you get over this).

But who’s to say that this isn’t a cycle on repeat?

This strange ability.

My fingers race across the keyboard in the odd manner that I type (with about five fingers?). It’s like having a session of ‘empty your soul’, where I mentally search through the caverns of my heart, seeking out every emotion that hides itself within and wringing them dry. Those are the words that form this blog, scribbles on pieces of scrap paper or free postcards, becoming random entries of my non-existent journal. And then my heart feels a little lighter and I pick myself up a little higher from that place that sucks the light out of my life. The problems never magic themselves away from my everyday, no matter how much I force myself to write, but the point is, I feel better. I’d pull out scientific evidence that actually exists about this, but I’m too lazy to do so. Just take my word for it.

It’s funny cause I’ve always thought of myself as one of those who write better when they’re upset, and I’ve just been told so last night.

You know, I’m never ready to make the compromise; I’d always, always rather be happy than be able to write well.

When things move away from what you know them to be.

Un

I thought about it, wondering if I should get off the bus, even going so far as sleeping and leaving it to if I woke up at the right stop. I had two chances. And I did wake up both times. In the end, I didn’t clamber off. I slowly made the uphill climb in the rain.

Love makes everyone cheapen themselves.

Deux

‘Say something.’

‘I have nothing to say.’

How could I relate this hailstorm going on inside, incomparable to the rain falling softly on us? Finally, he gave up. And at some point, I thought it was just me holding onto his hand that kept us together. He had gone completely slack in his touch and we might as well have been two strangers walking like zombies amongst the rest of the city.

Trois

I read his reply and want to put my head on my arms, on the desk. It’s fixed. There’s an incessant chatter in French going about, but all my thoughts are still in English, with nothing to do about parking and clothes-shopping in Paris. I try concealing my smile but it’s crept up on me slowly. He’s the best thief of my thoughts.

And I can’t wait to see him again.

Quatre

He bites into an apple. I notice the core of a pear on his plate. And he had refused my fruit salad. The brat.

“You do realise there’s apple and pear in this as well.”

He protests, “But it tastes different after you cut it!”

“Mmmhmmm…”

Cinq

There’s still nothing I’d say to you right now. Despite your argument, you still took something from me. And that’s my trust. Did you really expect me to tell you that it’s okay? I’m feeling this crazy shock and maddening disappointment, like I’ve been told the biggest lie, and you can blame me for not wanting to talk to you? Are you kidding? This insecurity is like a rocking chair and everytime you hold me, you tell me to trust you. And it stops. That’s why I didn’t move. Not this time. Because the last time I did, you told me to ‘do something about it’. Then you push the blame onto me? REALLY? How could you imply that I was wrong for simply not wanting to talk about it?

Forget love, because when you take this as it is, this isn’t what people even do to each other.

Don’t.

Sometimes I think that you deliberately try to push me away. Consider the last time. And now. It’s like your sub-conscious (hello, bastard) getting to you, and then you try to either make me leave or take leave yourself, but as you did so today, your last words were to make sure that it appears to be my fault. The last time, I was naive enough to end up at your feet in a pool of tears, and then you went about mending what we have.

But I haven’t cried.

Today, I know what I’ve done, and haven’t. Clearly. And I’m not going to apologise for lying there in silence, trying to process how the fuck things could’ve gone so wrong, even as you begged me to say anything. If my silence makes you uncomfortable, so be it. And this time, I’m not going to try to explain away what you did, because I see that as somehow admitting my guilt when I haven’t done anything. I haven’t. You told me to take you as you are. What are you doing to me now? Besides pushing all the blame and everything that went awry onto me? Who do you want me to be?

Maybe I am not enough. But I’ve said that before.

Response to ‘I Kissed A Girl’

Tyler says (12:59 AM):i found a song

Alynna says (12:59 AM): abt?

Tyler (12:59 AM): this one

Tyler says (12:59 AM): haha

Alynna says (12:59 AM): OMG

Alynna says (12:59 AM): yeah, my bf sent it to me =.=”

Tyler says (1:00 AM): hahaha

Tyler says (1:00 AM): i watched her video of it before i heard the song

Tyler says (1:00 AM): she kinda pulls off the 70’s look with her singing quite well i think

Alynna says (1:02 AM): i didn’t pay much attention to the vid

Alynna says (1:02 AM): i was more going, wth is the bf trying to tell me?

Alynna says (1:02 AM): lol!

Tyler says (1:03 AM): hahaha

Tyler says (1:03 AM): hint hint

Alynna says (1:03 AM): KISS A GIRL!

Alynna says (1:03 AM): lol

Tyler says (1:03 AM): hahaha

Tyler says (1:03 AM):we like watching

Alynna says (1:11 AM): yes, believe me, i know

Alynna says (1:12 AM): what’s so fascinating abt it anyway?

Tyler says (1:12 AM): it’s a guy thing, don’t ask

Tyler says (1:12 AM): it’s basically one girl = hot, two girls = hot squared

Alynna says (1:13 AM): hahahahha

Alynna says (1:13 AM): interesting equation

Tyler says (1:13 AM): and there’s the part where the imagination goes wild while watching

Tyler says (1:14 AM): of course, we’ll never admit to it though

Tyler says (1:14 AM): haha

Alynna says (1:14 AM): oh, he probably would!

There are friends, and there are best friends.

Sure, I was angry and called her a bitch, but above all else, I was hurt. I tried to push it away as nothing, that all Nadia was doing was trying to make me turn up, but her reply came back. I’m not one to take words lightly and I knew that if I had to think of a whole list of people who’d come up with THE right words, she’d probably be right at the top.

I replied, still trying to sound neutral, but her reply was patronising, as though she was placating a child, and yet trying to make a last ditch attempt at firing a guilt I didn’t feel. I keep thinking, it’s not about her, her opinion does not matter. After all, it’s our best friend who’s celebrating her 21st, not her. But did she really need to take the moral high ground? Oh, piss off. She doesn’t live in the middle of nowhere, she has transport of her own, her family doesn’t live with her under the same roof. Definitely not the same fucking shoes she’s walking in. I don’t expect sympathy, merely understanding. When I explained my situation to my best friend, she understood perfectly fine. I remember now that Nadia and I have never reached that level that I share with my best friends and I’m trying not to hold what she said against her, even if it still cuts me.

The residue of the hurt is still sitting here. Along with the box of chocolates she requested for, and a chocolate scented soap I thought she’d love.

‘It’s not always making it at a time when other people can that counts; it’s when they can’t.’

I won’t take back my words.

Let’s binge on snacks!

Alynna says (1:49 AM):
are you the type to go ‘ooh tim tams, oops it fell into my trolley’?
Haze says (1:51 AM):
hahahaha
Haze says (1:52 AM):
more like, oops the whole aisle fell into my trolley
Alynna says (1:52 AM):
hahahaha
Alynna says (1:52 AM):
i like ur thinking!
Alynna says (1:52 AM):
i mean, accidents!

Of brand names.

Very rarely do I like what Louis Vuitton comes up with. Yes, I don’t like the Comme des Garcons collection. Pfft. Besides the animal charms but they’re an exception, being the only thing kawaii about it.

But I remember this one being on the display window of their Queens Plaza store a year ago. Oh, j’adore!

LV Antigua Navy Striped Cabas PM

As you can see, it looks nothing like their usual ‘look at these shades of brown that are the same as last season’s and the season before!’ Maybe that makes their stuff classic (erm, sure), but hey, Burberry’s classic and they don’t look like the same damn thing everytime!

That reminds me of Agyness Deyn, who doesn’t hurt the label, of course…

That’s not a new picture, but I happen to like the B&W.

But shopping as I know it means big names aren’t everything and I’d happily take the cash for one murky brown LV and spend it on a gazillion other items from high street brands. And how the current trend means jack all – neon sucked, remember?

I have to say though, I’m leaning towards Dotti right now. I wonder if I could possibly pull off feminine, considering I’m always into solid colours and not floral, pretty stuff that makes you think of lavender fields. Seriously, fashion has a funny sense of timing – shouldn’t this floral craze have emerged during summer? Or at least in spring? Maybe we are wearing stuff meant for spring too early. Or we’re so many seasons ago, which would hardly be surprising considering Australia was catching up with what was popular in the UK three months later when I was travelling ages ago.

Moving on to the higher end, Kookai’s Femme Fatale dress is so kill-me-now-it’s-HOT.

Maybe it’s just the model? Lol!

I also like the Fabergas off-shoulder, even if the name baffles me. And it probably wouldn’t suit me.

Hello, Cesc Fabregas, maybe? FCUK is SO disappointing this season. The only thing I fancy on their revamped site is the white dress with black spots, and even then, I don’t have the legs for it. Everything else belongs in your big happy yellow recycling bins. Yes, this coming from your local FCUK-gelist.

Can’t you tell I spent all day at home, wishing I was out shopping?

Beauty queens.

I read the news item and watched the YouTube video. You gotta admire her courage though. I would’ve…. well, I wouldn’t make it in there in the first place so I don’t need to contemplate that. Typically though, whenever that happens to me, I just burst out laughing with my friends who’d probably be shell-shocked while I’m still on the floor, trying to stop the laughter.

That’s why I always find ice-skating a very hearty, funny experience.

Auntie: Miss Universe downstairs on TV.
Me: Yeah. Miss USA fell down.
Auntie: Hah? Really ah? She slipped and PER-DONG (that’s the sound effect my aunt came up with)?
Me: Yup.

(Two minutes later)

Mom (who is downstairs): Oh NO! Oh NOooOoooo!

(And another minute)

Mom: Miss US fell down!
Auntie: Yah, Alynna told me.
Mom: Hah? How did she know?
Auntie: I dunno.

(Five minutes later, Mom comes upstairs)

Mom: Miss Universe was when?
Me: I dunno.
Mom: So who won?
Me: Miss Venezuela. She got nice body.
Mom: Oh YAH.

Five amusing things.

1. A friend’s MSN personal message: Plural for musical instrument is orchestra.

Hahahaha, I have no idea if it’s an original quote but it definitely tickled me silly.

2. One of top searches that leads to my blog is Irish sex fairy. What the hell, guys? I’m not Irish even if I miss Armagh and find the accent cute, I mention sex once in awhile (with no details, merci), and.. fairy? I like fairies! But that’s just not right. For fairy love, you should be visiting Kinky Blue Fairy’s – she’s on my blogroll. And altogether, Irish sex fairy is something I really know nothing about. Seriously.

3. My five-year old sister is a better cam-whore than I am.

4. One of the reasons why I don’t like reading books around people is because when I burst out laughing upon reading something funny, everyone looks at me like I’m nuts. Laughter is not a crime, people! Just because you can’t read it, jeez.

5. My brother’s Facebook status says he is wondering who the girl he kissed last night is. WHAT?