February 19, 2002
v-day recollection and molecule-lovin
1:25 pm
I'm very tired of apologizing for not writing in long lapses of time (yes, long). Maybe I don't do it here... do I? I apologize to Damien for the same reasons too, and I don't even bother to look back to check. I hate saying sorry.
Again I look like the kind of person I hate: the show-off who brings her diary to school. It's not something I enjoy doing. I wish I had more privacy and more time so I don't have to squeeze you in between classmates. But I can't seem to find that. A week has passed, not just any busy week but a holiday week, a free week with a Valentine's Day in it. (flips through) Sadly I didn't write about Feb 14 here. Oh well. I don't fancy the idea of faking daily entries, so a recollection will have to do.
Mum got a card from Jiuan (a close friend from work) who's having the time of her life in ("fabulous!") UK. She sent this pretty cool postcard that said "We're a couple of swells in London!" and had a painted evil cat face looking at a painted arched-eyebrow mouse face. I looked at it, thinking "Huh? Swells? What kind of London lingo is that?". Then I looked closer, at the suspicious noses of the two animals.
I realised that the mouse and cat face were
painted on a pair of boobs. It was hilarious. Jiuan wrote on the other side, "Just
don't try this at home, okay?"
10:15 pm
My eyes look so weary for someone rather alert, and my skin seems to have this
ashen, dull quality to it in the light. Maybe it's just me. Anyone would say it's because
I don't eat most of my vegetables. Hey, they might be right.
I really am not used to having girlfriends. This is what happens when 99% of your
friends from age 3 to age 11 are boys. Really. That 1% isn't even a close friend. Now I'm
in form 4 and dealing with friends of the girl variety. Jenny and Grace have graciously
volunteered in form 1, and only now am I understanding them a lil more.
You know what I realised? Girls have horrendously low self-esteem when it comes to how
they look. I just don't get it. Every flaw whether big or small is magnified tenfold, even
a teeny thing that isn't really a problem to begin with is regarded as one. Girls have a
huge list of ideals. Kind of like how almost everyone has an incredibly detailed
requirement list for a boyfriend (I've read a few... "tall" and
"machine-gun laugh"). They make the same list for themselves. I say this so
frankly, or rather, I have the pleasure of saying it so frankly, because I'm not most
girls, or at least not the 'most girls' in my school. They aren't content with their hair
colour, their bra size, their belly, their ass, fingernails, fingers, hair, toes, skin,
you name it, a girl has a gripe for at least two of 'em.
You know what else? Not I. I'm proud of it too. I actually look in the mirror and ponder the fact that I like my slightly rounded belly (falls comfortably between category of the rock-hard abs and the Greek-mythology plumpness), and some guy will be able to like it too. My hair isn't terribly fucked up. I'm not hideous I think, but I do blend into nothing when put next to certain people. I TRULY love music that I listen to, it isn't something pushed on by a friend or something I decided to 'catch on' to because everyone else was. I don't give a fuck about crowds and cliques, popularity and checklists. I have the most basic list when it comes to guys: honest, straight, loves me. The rest of his attributes should be negotiable.
Why can't there be more of this sort of reality? So much of the world today has truly dissipated into a stage of incredible falsetto and all kind of influences, trendsetters and followers.
Journal (you sexy thing), you have the honour of being in the possession of someone who is now absolutely content with (almost) every molecule in her body.
11:03 pm
I forgot, I have yet to recollect my Valentine's Day.
To be truly honest, despite my state of fool-for-love, it slipped my mind that Valentine's
Day was the day we were all supposed to go out. Me, Grace, Dante, Jenny, and Norah.
It was also Norah's birthday, so the 'duh' should've come sooner (well actually, I don't
say duh). Anyway, Valentine's day is getting to be pretty overrated. I told Damien that if
St Valentine himself were here he'd snort and frown uncontrollably at most of the couples
here. An amusing thought.
Anyway, Dante had to come to my place so Norah could pick us up together. As usual, he couldn't find my house. I watched him from my window and let him walk up and down awhile, until I opened the window to yell at him.
Jist of the events: we came, Dante and I went to buy tickets. The three went clothes shopping. Dante and I played pool (or rather, Dante attempted to play teacher while I fumbled with the cue stick). The three went to buy shoes. Dante and I went computer browsing. We met up finally at McD's. Went to see Shallow Hall (shallow flick? it was amusing). Went to Top Shop. Went to the MPH bookstore. Separated. I took Norah and Jenny, Grace took Dante home.
Easily it was a good day. But then there are the factors that spoil most good days, even if for a little while. Grace made a huge show of unpunctuality. We practically had a picnic in the car under the tree while waiting for her to come out. The ticket queue made my skin crawl. Loving couples who by the looks of it, feel that they HAVE to grope each other for the life of them or:
- it won't be Valentine's Day.
- they won't get to buy their tickets.
- the world will end. Really.
My personal worst was that I don't know how to shop at Top
Shop. Lost in skimpy stuff I can't see me in.
No wait, scratch that. Personal worst was the same-old, same-old. Repetitions with winks
and grins and supposed 'evidence'.
Norah claims, "You and Dante are so damned perfect together."
Seriously? Is that guy even capable of expressing any form of romantic soul? Do they really hate me that much as to want to pair me up with Dante? Dante?
Grace sheds some light on the subject. Fortunately, she's
on my side (anti set-Li-up-with-Dante). But she does make a point. He calls me. At 12 am.
Or 3 am. Or from 12-3 am. Or 3 am-5am. Or even 12-1 am, and 3-5 am... "Alright
already!" I tell her, regretting ever relating the calls to her. She must've kept a
logbook. She goes on. We like the same things. We have similar personalities. But I
argued... things like those aren't necessarily ingredients for a couple! So what does it
mean when I prefer British India to TopShop, or pool lessons and computer parts to shoe
shopping? I've never been much of a girly-girl (blame it on my guyfriends' upbringing).
It was a great Valentine's Day nonetheless. It was cool that I spend most of it with
(it-all-comes-down-to) a great guyfriend (though I hate to put that compliment in). I
guess I'm unsettled because that inevitable crap just made sure I knew it was still
there, crapping on me.