My mood since the last time I blogged has been all over the place, but I think I’ve finally found some kind of mental and emotional footing. Semester two started today, and my timetable is a trainwreck waiting to happen. I’m still waiting on final confirmations from the jazz tutors about when exactly my remaining classes will be, since my jazz courses seem to be colliding with one another. Clashing classes is something that isn’t supposed to happen in such a small department!
In remembrance of the holidays that flew past, here are some photos from last week. My sister and I had appointments over the shore, after which we went and got lunch and ice cream. I also bought an amazingly kick-arse leather jacket, but I haven’t taken photos of that yet though.
Eggs benedict with bacon – my favourite.
This photo makes me feel funny about myself. Something about the angle makes me feel like my nose is abnormally large and that my face is a bit warped out of proportion. Nevertheless, I’m totally loving my Marcs mens cardigan that I bought on sale. So warm, so comfy.
Chocolate ice cream- also my favourite. Liv got mango sorbet which is probably in my Top 5.
For someone who loves taking uncalculated, un-thought-out and seemingly blind risks, I am so boring when it comes to food. I’m just such a sucker for food habits! Once I latch onto a favourite from a restaurant or just in form of a flavour, it’s really hard for me to order something different, to try something new… it just feels like I’d be taking a risk at the potential price of missing out on a guaranteed satisfaction!
The boy and I went out for a dinner date on Friday night. (I’ve always wanted to say that, casually, you know… “oh we went on a date”, blah blah, so blasé, like in the moooovies!) It wasn’t for any particular, specified reason – we just both felt like it. It kinda seemed as if we were celebrating something, but I’m not too sure what. Although earlier last week marked the precise date of two years since we met, and in a couple of weeks’ time will be our “6-months” mark… and all of that sounds terribly cheesy and overtly sentimental, but my gosh I’m such a sentimental person. For some very hard-to-explain reasons, the whole “a year/two years since we met” business means a lot to both of us, in the break-your-heart-then-mend-it kind of way, and it’s about the only time I’ve ever seen anyone more sentimental than I, remembering a date better than I.
We went to Sale St and it was amazing. Even though it was really busy and full of lots of people just going out for a drink rather than a meal, it still felt awfully intimate like we were in our own bubble, and everything got slowed down and slightly muted when they came too close. We also did some spying and live commentary of a couple who really sucked – they looked like they were cosying up at first, but then the girl was really keen and the guy looked like he wasn’t feeling it, it was awkward and awful and such a laugh, most especially when they were then joined by three female friends! The only bummer of the evening was the fact that I had actually taken a little camera with me, but then discovered that it didn’t have a memory card, dammit! So you’ll just have to take my word for it that we’re a killer couple, especially when we go out in our leathers and I even wore what Cara calls my “fuck-me boots”. Tasteful ones, of course.
I wrote something earlier this evening and then decided that the things I write would make a nice love-letter-esque collection. If only there was a market for these things, and if I was even willing to sell my inner-most vulnerable self. People, it frustrates me to not know what to do with my writing! I wrote something last week that, according to the boy, sounds like an excerpt out of a novel, but I have no idea what to do with it whatsoever. Actually, I just realised that whenever I publicise or share a piece of writing with anyone, I get a weird sensation akin to that of stepping on stage – like stage fright but in the form of words on paper. And because I never tend to edit my writing and keep it so raw – just like a performance, really… played once and left unchanged forever – it feels like I’m walking around fresh out of bed (if not naked), waiting to be told that all is okay; that there is indeed beauty in my raw, most pure form of self. Isn’t that what we’re all looking for?
And I don’t know who wrote this, but since I didn’t want to post my own writing today, I thought this was lovely:
“I don’t think there is a middle ground for love. Either we are dreaming, or we are drowning. I wouldn’t change a thing, because I’m either dreaming or drowning with you.”
Ohhh, and how could I forget – OH MY GOD HARRY POTTERRRRRRRR. Childhood’s momentary revival is gone once again. AHHHHHH. That is all.