Cracking bottle...I need more just than a piece of plaster

I can feel myself cracking at the sides, needing someone to tape the cracks up for me. I am back now to KL and I can feel the homesickness grow. I was depressed for the past day, though probably distractions has (thankfully) kept my tears at bay. I've been depressed for the past 24 hours, although I'm not really sure why was I like that. I just knew that every little thing would trigger myself to feel a little bit sadder / number than I was the previous second. 

The distractions that Noir gave me allowed me to be sane for that few 24 hours. But now as I get hungry in the middle of the night, one piece of Mandarin orange is enough to get me thinking of home, and there starts where my resolve to keep it in for now crumble. Tears are leaking out as the cracks on the bottle that holds everything start to increase one by one. It's taking all my willpower to keep myself from breaking in front of my roommate, which is not what I need right now. 

It's only Monday and here I am wishing that I was able to break everything down last night. After meeting Noir again after a month, I feel the warmth that he gives me increase, asking me how I am and wanting to assure me that he's always there. I wanted to let go of everything right then. But somehow I didn't want to talk about it too much in detail yet as I didn't want the first night of meeting him after a month to result in a bout of crying and nothing else. And yet, after feeling a few days of homesickness even from home, and a variety of pressure landing on me and keeping everything in, I can feel my resolve breaking bit by bit as the cracks on the bottle increase ten fold. 

Deep breaths are the only thing keeping my tears at bay at the moment, though not that effectively at bay. Perhaps because it leaked a bit, so keeping the rest in seems easier. It will increase again over time, I'm sure of it. But all I can do now is to hope that I can last till Thursday, because crying alone and in front of anyone else doesn't seem to help, only to duplicate a bottle and to empty one, not two, because I know only by telling Noir that I can feel at least a generous amount of relief. Telling my parents would be the best idea, but I have a feeling that telling them would release a lot more than just a bottle's worth. 

Post-MS?

You know that one point where a girl (or anyone else, I wouldn't know) starts feeling irritated by every single thing that happens. Like a hair that fell on the arm and itches, like the scalp that itches even though you just washed it that morning, like the hair that fell on your face that itches, like idiot people getting under your skin and your brain is itching to tell you to shut them up (you know you can do it...just that...well...they're still your friends). 

Ange tells me that it's that time of the month's fault. But I seem to think differently. That time of the month never bothers me. But hell, all the other small stuff does. I had gastric pains on the way back home from The Legend of Hercules the movie (legend my butt...saddest case of Hercules story I've ever seen - only in my opinion). Being hungry - the gastric obviously - didn't help my irritation, neither did the bad movie. 

Ange tried his best to make me happy again. Knowing I was hungry he went to a mamak after dropping our friend home. I knew he was doing something consciously to make me feel okay again. But man I do wish that I know what's the reason that is bothering me. My theory is that it's all the tiny tiny reasons put together (those irritating hairs!!!!!). I'm consciously trying to feel better again. Of course feeling tired / sleepy doesn't help. Thinking about that, it even led me to the thought that we have 24 hours in a day. Why the hell do we feel sleepy after what...14 hours? 

A heart's inspiration: While you're away... *laughs*

This is one of the times where I actually feel more philosophical, thus the reason I'm writing now. 3 days ago, it was (is) me and Ange's 5th month together. When I'm together with him, I never really think about the fact that he is my boyfriend. In my mind, I actually refer to him as 'the person that I spend as much time as I can with'. The sentence 'he is my boyfriend' never really comes into mind. And I find that really interesting. Because just the thought of that sentence makes my heart skip a beat, excited. But it will only last for one second until I think of the sentence again. 

I'm guessing that fact sentences like that excites me, though it doesn't really appear much in my mind naturally. Growing up, I never really think of getting boyfriends, or even having one. To be honest, the idea of a 'boyfriend' didn't even exist in my dictionary. To me at that time, me having a crush on a boy would just mean that I really really want to spend time with him. Back then, I was only 11. So the only way that I wanted to spend time with the boy I had a crush on was to play with him, like kids. We chased each other whenever he teased me about something. We would exchange sentences that we thought were insults. And because of this family hierarchy thing we had in our class back then, I was his wife where he was the third son of the 'mother' of the class. I still find those experiences really fun to think about.

It's probably why whenever I see Ange, all I think about is that I want to spend time with him. The word 'boyfriend' doesn't really come into mind until someone actually asks me who he is to me. Interesting, isn't it? Funny thing is, the sentence of 'wanting to spend time with him' itself doesn't appear. My heart feels it, very strongly too. I'm not really sure why is this interesting to me. *laughs* But I find it relaxing to just write it out.

Now, we're both going through this distance period where we (technically) have to stay apart for 2 months. It's probably going to be the last 2 months holiday that I'm going have in a long while. So to be honest, I am appreciating this holiday a lot. I love being at home, being able to relax (albeit remarks from my parents once in a while to exercise or do the chores). Being able to sleep in my own comfortable bed in an air-conditioned room is a luxury to me too. The room I have at university is just too warm to even feel comfortable. Not to mention the bloody stink bugs that come once in a while to annoy and scare the heck outta me. 

I can say that I'm starting to get used to being away. I probably still can't last too long a period, but compared with the first week (and second), I think I'm doing better at taking the distance in stride. I envy Ange sometimes. He's able to switch off the part where a person is supposed to yearn for the presence almost immediately. But however I envy that trait, I think I still prefer to miss him this way if I have to go through distances, instead of turning off that part of me. This is because I want to know myself that I still love him. As crude as that had sound, I think the moment where I am able to 'turn off' the part of me that misses him, it might be the moment (God forbid) that I stop loving him. And I truly don't want that to happen.

Credits to Google Images.

Oddly enough, it is when he is busy watching a movie that I am able to have time to type out this entry *chuckle*. Once in a while, writing about things does the soul much good. Pity I don't have much patience with handwritten work, especially since my hand does get tired after a while. 

Thought of mentioning how men being partial can risk them losing their female friends. But as my writer's block has arrived in my brain, perhaps another time. =)

Goodnight, ladies and gentlemen.

Worried...

Yesterday I felt like one of those emotional wrecking balls came right at me, without even a warning that things were going to happen. Annoyed, left-out, hurt, depressed, bothered, and perhaps even jealousy, all of them rolled into one huge ball of chaos. And yet, I couldn't help it. So God help me.

I told Ange everything that was bothering me. God bless that sweet man of mine. He can always understand (if not empathize) the reasons why I would feel a certain way. Just that I myself don't really know what to do or say sometimes to help myself feel better. Just because everything else I've tried hadn't worked. 

Anyway, I bought a new ukulele to play from the Read Malaysia bookfair. Only 88 bucks adding 2 for the picks and 15 for the bag. Total 105 bucks then. Partly, I didn't feel the burn because it felt like an investment more than a purchase. I really want to learn how to play it, to be able to play songs as I go around in the future. Of course, partly it is also because I'm not opening the Excel file for expenses that I have. *grins*

Ah well, the next four days eating instant noodles will be the plan then. Gotta get more instant noodles. 

Best-Dressed? Best fraud more like...

No matter how I try, nothing seems to be worth the effort. For days I've stayed up late trying to complete the gloves which I thought would give me the edge to at least be noticeable and at last, win the Best Dress Award. It is general knowledge that for the Best Dress Award, one usually has to dress according to the theme, look fabulous in it, and also, be different. That has always been the key.

But tonight, I felt like the definition of Best Dress Award has been changed. Changed. To Miss Popularity. Because the person that won tonight, was a clone of three. Three girls, wearing almost the same thing, two of them 100% identical on their outfits and accessories, except the colour choice. One was green and another was pink. And there was me thinking initially that they wouldn't stand a chance at winning anything with those identical outfits. Boy, was I proven wrong. The green one won. 

She was no different from the tens of other girls who donned ribbon hair ties and A line dresses with their loopy earrings. Even the friggin' stilettos were the same design with Miss Pink. Only the colour remains different. If colours were the criteria, then screw the damned theme, someone just wear a rainbow coloured dress to the party and she'll be crowned best dressed. *smirk* A clown could win. 

Now, people would say that I am bitter because I didn't win. No, that isn't the case. If the person that won deserved to win, I would not spare her the congratulations that she deserves to get from me, a fellow contender. Last year, someone of worthy status took the crown. And I congratulated her with no qualms or hesitation. Because she was different. She caught the people's eye. People voted for her. I conceded defeat with satisfaction.

In this case, people did not get to vote. Someone unknown decided. And the someone who won was a clone, a complete clone, of another in the same party. So explain to me this, how the hell did she wear any differently from her clone? Why the hell does she deserve the Award? Can someone tell me who the hell decided on this nonsense and also, can that someone give a legit explanation as to how Miss Pink Clone won the award? Because, right now, it feels like there is no difference to the elections.

The award may not seem like anything to you guys, dear readers. But it means a lot to me when I put in one hell of an effort in dressing to kill and to see it fall to the hands of someone unworthy. I am no sore loser. I concede when I know I am truly defeated (in the sense of having a better costume). I congratulate the winners with an open heart and a smile (no matter how much I don't feel like smiling, granted I will still be disappointed). But to see someone as such holding the award, sorry, I feel no intention to congratulate you. You do not deserve such a praise. Yes you look nice. But like almost everyone there tonight, you're nothing but a clone. The End.

p.s. Ange has been very very sweet to me even though I don't feel too happy. Just want to take this chance to say thank you :) Love you lots. xoxo

Happy Mother's Day!!!!

Finally back here at the house after spending more than half a day at home with mama and the family for Mother's Day. :D Felt kinda guilty cause I made mama wait for her present, probably letting her think that we didn't get anything for her. God bless mama. But I wanted le bro to be home before we gave it to her together. That idiot took so long to come back I almost thought that he was going to miss seeing me off (at 6pm!!!!) even. *swt*

But everything was redeemed when I saw mama's happy smile when she saw the present. I made le bro give it to her cause she seems to be happier when she receives things from him. *laughs* She peered into the Elianto bag we gave the present in and took out the Body Mist =w= Then I explained that there is two bottles inside. One, the Body Mist. Two, the Perfume. She seemed touched and said we shouldn't have spent so much on her, two bottles some more. I still feel like I haven't spent enough on her. She's the best mama in the whole world really. She would cook for me in the middle of the night if I ask. Best mama! *hugs* Don't worry, 'kay mama? When I start working, I'll bring you out to one of the best restaurant there is and choose the best food to your taste for you! :) If not, I'll order the best spa package there is for you. :) I promise. Love you mama!! *loves!*

Crap! I'm hungry. *sobs* Ange brought me out to have a late dinner just now. Poor dear couldn't eat because he had to pick me up from the bus terminal. But just watching him eat was pure torture. The fried chicken on the plate was so intoxicating that I had to force myself to read a book to be distracted. Unfortunately, my nose and my stomach wasn't distracted at all. It growled to the point of madness. Ange must have sensed something amiss because he asked me again if I wanted to call for food (I just ordered a tall glass of Honey Peach Juice). But I had to tell myself to say no. One thing, I wanted to help him save a little bit of money. Two, I really have to stop eating so late into the night. I'm already getting rounder ('fat', as mama put it) from all the late night eating that I've been doing almost every weekend. Granted, I enjoy eating regardless of the time. But I guess I have to start somewhere with my 'diet'.

I quote someone from Twitter. I am on a seafood diet. I see food, I eat them. =3= *sigh*

Back home...

It's a cloudy day after a bout of rain. Me and Ange are just sitting in my house's upstairs living room, both doing our own assignments. The Usama song is starting to get to my head. *swt* Mama bought all of us an ice cream cone from the passing ice cream man that comes around 3pm to 4pm everyday of the week. *chuckle* Nice to be able to eat all this stuff again. Man, I miss home so much. 

Credits to Google Images

I am very very sleepy at the moment. Not sure how on Earth am I going to finish a full paper today. But I suppose I must. I have to complete another paper by this weekend. Another Saturday / Sunday working on a paper. Meh! 

But eh~ better than rushing four papers in a week anyway. It's good enough that it's split to two a week. I still got my Pragmatics and Sociolinguistics class full project paper to complete. Not to mention the elusive Syntax paper that we're supposed to be doing, although God help us on that one, cause the lecturer hasn't been coming for ages. Can't we just cut that paper off our list and just take it in another two semesters? Would be so much easier seeing as we will probably get killed going into the exam hall for that paper anyways.

Maybe a nap before continuing the stupid paper. =3=