New Year New Year!

With this uneventful year drawing to an end, a brief summary of odd discoveries.

Holidays can not happen, even when all flight tickets and accomodation are booked. Even when you have Euros sitting on your desk. Even when there are additions to your wardrobe for this sole purpose. Simply because, volcanos can blow up. Who would have thought. Trips home are the sweetest ever. Especially unplanned ones. When everything in life is going right, that's the tipping point. Nothing is going to be okay from then on. For awhile at least. I don't have a criminal mind. Which is really not a good thing at all. Working on that for now. I am still running back to the same person when I'm in trouble. The same person I'd run to five, maybe six years ago. And no, I still don't get answers by pouring it all out. That's what I like. Someone who doesn't judge, or at least I'd like to think so. Uni life ends next year, the frightening reality that getting out of bed will no longer be a choice. A summer job in Canary Wharf is beautiful, I should have treasured it a little bit more. I might not be going back there. I trust blindly. It would have been nice if it had stayed that way. Unfortunately, I saw light at some point. Trust has never been easy ever since. No, I think trust has never been ever since. I learn about talking calculated risks. I am yet to put it into practice. I ponder the choices I have. It gets more complicated with age. I will learn patience. Waiting will soon be my specialty. I am tired of fighting, of resisting, of not indulging common sense. This will be my last christmas spent with my nose buried in books. Random. I am looking forward to change.  Wheee!

Hello 2011!

When it all falls apart?

When I was in colllege, the building started to sink. No joke, the foundation was so poor that the complex of buildings became mishapen with cracks forming unable to cope with the odd angle the building was moving into. So we were evacuated, classes moved to the chalets, our living quarters. The college was rebuilt, revamped, removing many nostalgic memories in the process.

Now, the house i'm inhabiting is starting to sink. Tiles have popped off the kitchen walls, cracks in the dining area ceiling have formed, and one day someone might just come crashing into the kitchen while taking a warm shower above. It's quite funny, sound travels even more efficiently with these new features. Drying off in the bathroom upstairs, you get a very clear blow by blow account of the gossip going on in the kitchen below. Talk about piped in shower entertainment. 
 

squeezing pimples can be oddly satisfying.

wicked witch of the west

she should be honored that I have dedicated two whole posts in my otherwise dead blog to her.

she said she would try change, be more tolerant and understanding. oh what a lie. the first of many to come. with the intention to spread hate and dislike as discretely as possible, little did she know that it would backfire with everything being thrown out in the open. the targeted resentful, revengeful path that she went down  has forced her to be a recluse in her own home. for good reason. any normal person would want to minimise the general disgust thrown their way. but then again, who ever said she's your average joe.

she who manually counted through a thousand rows of data instead of writing a simple function to extract the information. clearly not normal. and the icing on the cake is, if a superior group was to be formed, she would be part of it. lol. at least everyone had a good laugh about that.

i don't blame anyone for thinking what they thought. if i had heard the things she said, i might have drawn similiar conclusions. at some point, i would have pinned the cause of her lack of conversational skills to being socially stunted, something more forgivable. but no...it was the malicious intent behind her words that has brought her to where she is now.  all that effort put into sympathy seeking and pretending to victimised by all parties has gone down the drain. tsk tsk. poor thing.

nobody likes to be a sacrificial lamb in your quest to be liked and adored by the world. hence you have earned yourself the title of wicked witch of the west. which i really think is too kind.

I wonder if it is proven that high levels of estrogen makes a person soft, weak and highly irrational..?

Well, this is my case study, Young female, appears to be made up of peaches and cream, sugar and spice. Wants the world to think the best of her. Openly discusses her fondness of tickling the boyfriend's asshole(?#!!#!?), the experiment of the boyfriend farting in her face to test her inability to smell(?#!!!????!#?) and how she finds the boyfriend's flaccid penis very 'cute' (?#####!!!!!!!?).

Any normal person would go gasp, gasp and GASP at these things.  Not just about the issues, but the sheer transparency in which they are discussed. But, *drumroll* , she cannot discuss matters pertaining a simple piece of rubber, a condom. She throws out accusations when her opinion on the issue is sought, turns on the waterworks(cries, and cries and cries, oh my!) and is unable to justify her finger pointing, despite being given a fair chance to do so. Irrational words flow freely, disjointed and illogical. The interesting point of consideration is, even after sleeping on the matter with plenty of time to clear  her thoughts, she believes strongly in her accusations, as it all makes perfect sense and rings true in her little head.

Funny, I wonder if it is just a personality disorder that cause individuals to have a facade of peaches and cream, sugar and spice, when beneath it all, there is nothing really very nice. Or is it caused by the estrogen packed genetic make-up that spurs the underlying devilish nature with little ability for rhyme and reason?

It sure takes all sorts of people to make the world go around.

It could be worse i guess....

Oh the obscenity of it.

She dampens the spirit of holiday-ing, mother nature. First, she unleashed storms and floods in Rome causing a spontaneous trip to Amsterdam as a replacement. Now she blows up a volcano, indefinitely. Stuck in London I am. No ibiza. In the drawer my bikini shall sit. 

Adding salt to the wound. One boy is stranded on this side of the world wanting to get home, and another at home, wanting to get here. What a nightmare.

The terrible obscenity of it.

all i want for christmas

the dirt and grime of london has been cinnamon dusted by the powdery snowflakes. my shiny gold tree is sitting in my room waiting to be adorned. days are filled with bliss nothingness as christmas draws nearer. mulled wine, stuffed turkey and carols. the only thing missing is the boy, the boy who is faraway. just too damn faraway.