The one with the breathing exercise

breathe, breathe,

9 weeks
*Develop a collection
*Do detailed size specification
*Do a detailed report
*Do an extensive journal finding.

9 weeks?!?!? WIth some mini projects. (wtf is mini projects?!?!)
I dislike journal findings .... to an immense effect. In fact, I think I'm allergic to it.
Damn, I'm getting rashes.

breathe, breathe

  • Current Music
    breathing music.

The one with the tacky 80s.

Ogay! Are you in the mood for some tackiness? Too late if you say no.

I find myself dancing alot lately. Everytime the 6101 starts rocking to Bonnie Tyler, my hips start to move.
It's like an infectious disease. I'm dancing instead of checking my message.

And damn, I just can't get this Addicted to Love song out of my head.

So sexy with his high waisted pants. It takes charisma bebek. baby.

The one where I tuned into a loveminist ...

Today me and Royal Lesbo talked about moving on and geishas.

How some women in relationships are like concubines. How they wait upon the royal Man-ness to come, entertained, and they dissapear again till the next day.

How most of married people married those who might not make them the most happiest but  because they are there at the right time.

And "To move on, we must move on." I keep trying to twist the phrase around like a rubic cube hoping for some way to solve it.
But then again, I was never good at solving rubic cubes. My analysing self is not happy at this unsolved philosophy.

Today, while watching one of those television movies my mum loved so much, I got riled up.

Female character: So you married her because you owe her family?
Male character: *dumbfounded look* (looks at his wife who is looking down because she knows this is true.) Of course thats not the only reason. There is the reason of love too.


Exuse me, but I believe love should always and only be the reason. Life is already full of motives Don't taint love with motives too.

I'm turning into a Loveminist .      

The one with the kinky armpit smelling ...

I missed those days when I get absorbed in doing my own theories. Me writing in my book about them. Even to the extent of doing reseach on them.

My brother called it "my weird and kinky" hobby to date. He once caught a peek into the book while he was phone fighting with the ex whom till now scares me whenever I see a similar mould of face to her.

Yes, during that time my curtains was black therefore creates that sad and angsty mood in people whenever they go in my room. Shall we move on?

Like I say he caught a peek and he asked,

"Why are you researching on armpits of men?"

I was thinking of something funny to retort back, but decided on the truth. I told him how it is that male armpit let out this kind of smell that calms the women they love. So the women will feel secure. I told him he should try and ask his then still girlfriend to go put her face underneath his armpit to see if there is a difference, if she could get tranquilized that way.

Nevertheless, that is why she's an ex and my book hibernating in the secret box.
My curtains are stripes now though.

The one with the red man...

I have a big red zit at the edge of the right side of my nose.

This puzzles me to no end. Why is it they always miraculously appear at the right side of my everything? Now when I think about it, I have never had a zit on the left side of my face.

Puzzling. Indeed puzzling.

I've come to several conclusions.

1) The zit is a result of the building stress that school is starting soon and I feel like this is gonna be a big thing in my life soon. No more lunches with my dessert sisters. I can already predict the lonely research doings in library. I'll be like those intellectual art student that smokes and say,"Bring me my coffee kid". cause I'll be a senior. And as a junior I've disliked how the seniors bring themselves on campus.

Well except for that zen-like indian/eurasian guy whom I see occasionally on campus. He who often catches me when I'm doing very unflattering things. like for example,

- When I was touching cakes in the lift and going "ooh you like that baby" and the lift door open to him looking and me and laughing.

- when I climb out of the makeshift shelter on my hands and knees when one of my friends go, "you wanna do it doggy style?" And I make that woofing noise. And we laugh at stupid kids only to realise he's laughing behind us.

- when we were practising our "clap your hands above your head' ala Gatsby hair gel advertisement and he asked with a chuckle if he could sit and watch us.

The audacity of him. And the thing is in ever occasion all I could do was laugh along with him. Why? I did mention he have that zen-like aura right? its a peaceful aura. Makes me wanna dance ballet. And I don't even know ballet.

Anyway, the second reason is,

2) Because I used to be a reincarnate of Santa's reindeer.

When I read back, I prefer no.2 to be the reason. Its more ... fun-ner.
  • Current Mood
    discontent discontent
  • Tags

The one with the couch theory ...

I once saw this cantonese/mandarin movie which says that relationships are somewhat like couches.

Which when you spent time thinking about it ( me while I was lying on the bed with my legs leaning against the wall creating an L) is quite true.

Like for instance the 1st guy I fall for. As a couch he was eye catching. When I first set eyes, I knew I had to get it. But when it was delivered I was confused as to where to put it. The royalness colour of the couch don't match the walls of my house. So after weeks of it siting there, in the middle of the house, I decided to put it in one of the smaller rooms. Why? Because like I say, it don't match the wall, and the small room is a personal room. Therefore only I am able to see it.

It was alright at 1st. People close to me did not get to see or even sit on that royal maroon couch, (maroon = royal colour.) For a while I was elated at having a secret couch.

Then I realise, was it even comfortable to sit on? Will it provide the security I needed? So I did the one thing that never crossed my mind when I first bought it.

I sat on it.

It was hard. The cushion did not hug my ass the way I want it to. So I tried a different position. The conclusion was the same. This couch was not what I expect it to be. But I was in denial mode.

I bought this couch, and it would be mine for eternity. So I put it out in the front, where it is open to the eyes of others. They commented on how the couch don't work with the interior. Or how its not comfortable. But I was adamant to make the whole thing work.

I painted a different colour for the walls. I changed the curtain. I inspected my work. I was happy. The interior matched the couch. But I felt like I was in a stranger's home. And still, the cushions are as hard as ever.

I grew tired. So I put the couch back in the small room. It was a secret yet again. It always was a secret. I did not enter the room for a long time. The couch began to gather dust in the dark room. Occasionally I do sat on it. But it was still the same.
Then one day I heard it calling out for me.

I sat on it again. It was a bit softer now. But by then it was too late. So I threw it out hoping it'll find a better user for itself. And me? I realised I should have thrown it out sooner.

On the other hand, once while I was in Ikea. I came upon this dirty looking yellow couch. It does not look appealing to the eye. Furthermore the colour is not really my favourite colour in the world. So I just walked past it.
It was still there on my second visit.

On the third visit, I decided to check it out. So I sat on it. It was without a doubt one of the best couches I have set my ass on.

I feel like I was enveloped into a warm hug. I could feel asleep knowing I will be protected. No backache. No headache. Just pure bliss.

I urge my mum to buy it.

" The colour don't go with the blue walls. And the colour is too light. Stains will be hard to come out."

I let out a big sigh knowing she is right. The mum is always right. I cast a look at it again, knowing the yellow devil have settled in my heart. Vowing, that one day when I do have my own house, I will get a couch like that. A couch that provides an immense sense of security. A couch that after many years, I could still look at fondly and jump right into even though it could be full of stains or the leather would have cracked.

On my last visit to Ikea, the couch was no more. I sure hope to god it found a good ass to hug. An ass that knows the good quality of the couch.

Couch -assing- potato. ^_^