18 til I Die

I feel the distance. It’s a weird feeling, how someone who used to be, and is still supposed to be, close to you, is not part of your life in so many ways anymore.

We are just bystanders in each other’s lives. The recipients of passive narration; that hardly does justice to the abject importance of some events.

How did we get like this? To where I hesitate before I tell you how I feel truly and completely; and where most times I seek advice and comfort from those far away from me. And somehow I sense that is what’s happening with you too.

Walls, walls, walls. Somebody should seriously write a song titled ‘Invisible Walls’. It would be a hit single.

I am a really impatient person. I just can’t wait for things to come, I somehow always feel that it is better getting off my ass and meeting it halfway. Yesterday was the worst night I had to go through in my entire life. Alone, shivering under the covers cos some idiot switched off the heater and I haven’t exactly gotten my bed prepared for winter yet, and thinking that Monday may be the day you get the news that will totally screw up what you have been working so hard towards.

So instead of attending my set appointment on Monday, this morning I charged straight to

Balaclava

radiology for that CAT scan. I just want to KNOW. Now. Whether something is wrong or not.

Well… I still don’t know. Results oni out on Monday.

At least I can talk about it now, compared to few days ago where I was just stoned thinking about what the doctor said. Human nature is such an amazing thing. When you think you’re just about ready to give up and start railing at how unfair life is, somehow you seem to find that little piece of strength in you, just enough to keep you going for another day. But I still don’t want to say much, cos I feel just by putting out in words may just make this nightmare come true.

The main reason why I feel so shit is because I have so many things I haven’t done. I’m alone here for goodness sake, and the only person who can see what I’m going through is my teddy bear. And sometimes I don’t even know if he cares about me or not.

Ok great… I get a sense of foreboding now. I’ll shut up about it for now.

Anyway, told myself I’d enjoy today after handing in 3000 words of crap opinions and a few equally crappy calculations. So Yvonne and I went shopping. Got some stuff at the Ralph Lauren sale and French Connection, a few pressies for friends and the cutest pair of gloves. Then we went to chill at Max Brenner’s in Melbourne Central, where I think the chilling was really quite literally done. Frappes in the evening without a jacket. Damn smart. When the waitress screwed up and sent us 3 hot chocs instead of the frappes we had ordered from her, we should have just taken them instead of insisting like some picky bitches that we must have the frappes.

Havent laughed so much since last week. Dinner was with Yvonne and Sylvia and their friends at Corretto on Lygon. So overrated la, that place. Some people know it as the ‘Ferrari’ place. I can’t see why, just because they have a Ferrari flag at the entrance. That chic Italian restaurant at the corner of Grattan and Lygon also has a Ferrari flag, lah. Nobody say anything about it also.

Sylvia commented that those skinny jeans are so popular right now, while lounging in her own sticking-to-the-skin pair and flip flops downing her frappe. You know, those totally the opposite of the bootcut that me and Yvonne usually wear. So I’m damn not in, lah right now. But if being fashionable means wearing those tight as hell jeans that stick all the way to my ankle making my bottom half look so unproportionate (like emphasizing my huge butt in comparison to skinny feet) …. Eeee… I rather stick to my True Religion’s bootcut style. No criticism against those jeans per se, cos them thin girls look good in it; but its just not for me. And I dunno if you all noticed or not la… those jeans look like those kind the skinny Malay guys you see in Melaka’s Mahkota Parade wear. You know those who come in hoards during weekends on their motorcycles from Pantai Kundur or Jasin and then sit around on their motorcycle helmets near the arcade, trying to score a Malay chick in the same kind of equally skinny pants. I never can force myself to try on a pair, as that image will stick with me forever.

Once again, not being discriminatory, you can wear whatever you want but these are just wat I observe.

So tired. It’s raining. Monday.. where are you?

The birthday boy was right. This is one thing I have to face alone.

Made up my mind. Will call the hospital again tomorow. Wish me luck.

When you’re young, you’re 22, and you have heaps of assignments, shopping trips to look forward to, holidays, the question of your existence never does seem to be at the front of your mind. We’re young, so we’re blessed with invincibility. Eternal youth and exuberance that never seem to go away. We certainly do not think that we could die, whether by the debilitating strike of disease or by the erosion of our youth by the hands of Time. (or, in certain heartbreaking cases, by personal choice)

Had a scare yesterday when I was at the Footscray hospital for what should have been a routine checkup to fulfil one of DIMIA’s oh-so-ma fan visa procedures.

I’m sorry. Ive gone and self-censored myself. I think I blogged about the visit to the hospital in a moment of self-pity. Not to mention a state of total panic. Now I think I may just have said too much. So I removed it.

The issue of the fragility of your own life and the possibility of having everything taken away from you brings a kind of raw emotion that I just want to share with close friends and family.

Coffee not working. Dropped off to bed despite super strong caffeine injection into bloodstream. Fails to give the high it usually does. There’s something pathetic about Australian canned ice coffee. If you put it on the shelf in Malaysia, not even one bottle would sell.

I found something else that works. Drinking vodka while writing 2500 words on how globalization and deregulation can improve economic efficiency. It works. Really. You somehow get that feel-good feeling about your assignment, and suddenly it doesnt seem so shitty after all. Of course, after awhile, you still drop off to bed, but you are still able to get a considerable amount of words in. Plus you feel happy. About your shitty life.

Once the vodka’s gone, I’m going to start on the Corona sitting in my fridge.

I actually didn’t want to talk about this cos its seriously damn kao humiliating. But I decided that, in the interests of enlightening female consumers who might be deceived by the so-called easy methods of self-waxing as expounded by Nair (the brand la) or maybe just have strong hair roots that do not come off by using those cheaply produced type of hair removal wax, I’d tell my story.

(guys, I do not think you’ll be interested in what I have to say so kindly move along)

So all along I’ve been going to this beauty salon to do facial.. and Christine also does the honey waxing thingie that leaves your skin absolutely smooooth after you’ve endured the excruciating pain when she zips the strip back. And I’ve been rigidly religious about this whole monthly trip to the salon and all, partly because I hate DIY and frankly, I had a frightening experience in sem 2, 2004 when I couldn’t go home to melaka for 2 months and hence purchased those self waxing strips from Guardian.

Suffice to say, I was wearing foundation about two inches thick for a whole week while waiting for the scab on my upper lip to fall off. Stupid instructions: it didn’t say that we couldn’t repeat zipping action if hair does not come off.

So yeah, when I came to

Melbourne

, I was kinda worried. I mean, where can I find a good place that has the honey wax thing that I like? (so far in kl, ive not been able to find the specific type of wax that Christine uses. I swear she makes it in her own kitchen) I put off thinking about it until one day I nearly choked on my Coco Pops when Pavan asked me whether I wax. Oh God. Even a GUY has noticed that a wax is due!!!

I have been so busy lately with assignments and crap that I just have no time to scour

Melbourne

for some brand of wax. And I think after almost 2 years, the memory of that nightmarish ordeal had dimmed somewhat (unfortunately!) so I popped to the pharmacy to get the abovementioned Nair Easiwax (greatest lie of all!!) strips.

The result was ghastly. Absolutely GHASTLY.

And I don’t know why, but the stupid strips cocked up again. The area around my mouth was dry wat, i pulled the strips in opposite direction of hair growth, I did it quickly wat.. but still the wax ended up sticking to my skin and no hair on the strip.

And the bloody smart instructions said “in case of wax sticking to skin, remove with baby oil” Oh so you knew that was gonna happen lar, tats why you inserted that instruction inside!!

How the hell am I gonna find baby oil now?

Another note: Do not on any circumstances, put toner/makeup remover on cotton pads and try wiping on your upper lip hoping the wax will come off. I had a cotton moustache for awhile there. First time in my life that I actually bore a resemblance to Father Christmas. Best thing u can do if you don’t have baby oil is smear lotion (body or face or whatever) over the wax, rub like hell, and pray. Then take a piece of cloth, and wipe everything off. Repeat about 20 times. (yeah, that goes for the praying part as well) I will stomp into any salon I see tomorrow and get them to finish the job. I don’t care if its honey wax or beeswax.

Main point here is: Don’t bloody use these stupid wax strips for a second time if they didn’t work for you the first time round.

Damn, am I longwinded or wat.

When I got problem, Hui also got problem.

Freaky-nya.

But no matter what problems we girls face, talking about shopping triumphs all misery. Still she managed to buat ‘tempahan’ for a bikini and a mini tote for clubbing.

Was thinking of throwing a birthday bash thingie when I get back. Reason cos I didn’t celebrate my 21st in style. It was at Pizza Hut for all those who can remember. Yala! I still blame my mom for making me miss out on the most important rite of adulthood. I will grow up unsure of my place in life. All because of something about what the medium said. I still am not allowed to talk about it.

Today shall forever go down in the history of my life as the one where I spent the longest time in the shower. A standing shower stall with pelts of near to boiling water raining down harder than hailstones. I stood there for 25 minutes.

And there wasn’t even anything to see. But you know it’s time to get out when you start sweating while you’re bathing.

Yes. As you may well have deduced, life kinda sucks, at this point.

Add to that my two assignments and one presentation due after the break, which, by the way, I haven’t even laid a finger or thought on, please do sympathise with me when I moan to you that life sucks to the max although I won’t tell you why.

P.S: To my housemates, I hope I did not freak you guys out TOO much yesterday. Well at least I know you won’t bat an eyelid if I just start bawling in the kitchen tomorrow just because my chicken did not defrost properly.

It’s funny how things have changed 360 degrees since my last post. It’s also funny how, me being such a drama queen, cannot find the words to say anything at the time when I feel the most.

The weather forecast said it will rain tonight. At least someone up there is crying together with me. Why do we come into this world so full of hope, only to have it struck down again and again.

Tell me, do I not try? Words, thoughts, actions, comparisons. They don’t matter anymore when you’ve hit the bottom.

"I’ve never been the kind to ever let my feelings show, and I tot that being strong meant never losing your self control"- Keith Urban

I’m tired.

Why do I always go silly over love movies? I just finished watching ‘Must Love Dogs’. I feeeeel sooooo good!! I’m getting high on love. Omg I’m gonna wake up tmrw and go wat the hell but right now, at this point, I don’t care.

I’m in love with Love. And I don’t care if you don’t love Love, because I do, and I’m gonna talk about it until you’ll love it anyway.

Oh no. This is just the first break after the first movie. There are two more movies to go. Pride and Prejudice, and Bewitched. Now I’m wondering, can too much love kill you? Ehhe.

You know I asked the lady for Love Actually, but too bad, it was not within the 3 for 9.95 package I selected. I have been wanting to watch that movie for so long, but somehow something always stops me. I bought the DVD in

Malaysia

but it stuffed up on my computer, and got scratched in the process. Before I even got to watch the first five minutes of it.

Tomorrow, I am marching back to Blockbuster and getting that movie. I must follow my heart. Say what I mean and mean what I say.

Yeah, right. What am I talking about. I’m a big chicken and we all know that. I avoid things that could even remotely cause me pain or embarrassment, and I press the brakes on my Life more times than I step up the accelerator.

Oh will anyone cure me? Let’s hope Pride and Prejudice does. Here’s to love, to waking up in the morning next to the person you love, to Sunday breakfasts with happy conversation over the newspaper, to the moment when you fall. Let’s hope all of us find that in our lives.