B. broke up with me today. He had all my stuff in the car and left me with no choice. i was basically evicted.
who would have thought that after 3 years, i wasn’t even owed a discussion or an apology.
there was no argument. he said he wasn’t happy and that was it. and he didn’t even feel that he needed to explain.
i’m in shock.
just an update for the folks out there who do give a s*** whether i’m dead or alive 
B.’s house is currently being renovated and there have been some major upheavals (and not just structural ones) *winks* going on.
but the upshot of it is that we’ve given up our granny flat which is attached to the house, to live in the house proper.
the bummer being that there isn’t any internet connection in the house. well, not as of 3pm yesterday anyway, that’s when the builders ripped the walls, internet cables and all, down.
therefore, i won’t be able to blog/ email/ be on msn messenger as often as i’d like *attempts to pout but ends up looking ridiculous*
will miss having chats with you guys though, as well as crapping on endlessly on my blog.
maybe it’s all for the best anyway *rolls her eyes and look unconvinced*, i have craploads of assignments coming outta my ears. *BLAH* repeat after me *BLAH*
and agent R., thanks for your words of advice and support. it’s good to know that when you’re hollering into the wildernesses of e-blogging, sometimes an echo comes back. hope things are going ok for you and you’re taking good care of yourself aka eating the best food in the biggest quantities you can find *wink*
cheers and blog out.
i’m so tired.
i want a holiday.
and a nice meal out.
and some shopping.
and some time alone to snooze, read novels and channel surf.
i want to go home and see my family and friends.
i want to pig out and eat everything in sight.
i’m so sleep deprived.
*blah*
my playlist is stuck on ‘dream a little dream’ by louis armstrong and ‘fly me to the moon’ by frank sinatra.
*sigh*
i think i was born into the wrong time, wrong place.
on the surface it would appear that i just like vintage clothing and antique jewellery and retro (or neo-retro?!) furnishings and crooner-ish music.
but i would also like knowing that my neighbour isn’t some random axe killer and that i don’t have to wear a shoelaces-and-dental-floss-ensemble to college tomorrow to be considered cool.
what i wouldn’t like is the racial divide and the limited avenues for women and the reek of conformity and the rigidity of life.
if only you could live in the past without the prejudice and segregation.
or if only you could live in a present without corporate monopoly, terrorism, globalisation and the sheer darn dog-eat-dogness of existence.
i don’t think i was ever meant to live on a tree-lined avenue where kids rode their shiny bikes all day long and the milkman made his daily deliveries of frothy milk in glass bottles at 10am sharp each morning.
i would be ready to slit my wrists or hang myself with my bobby socks after about a good 5 minutes of that idyllic existence.
but neither do i want to live in a world of postmodernism, fragmentation, pollution, fear, global warming, violence, information technology, fast-paced changes and people who don’t give a crap if they’ve hurt you as long as they get what they want in the end - a bigger paycheck, that last pair of designer jeans on sale, the flesh from your bones and the clothes off your back.
i don’t know what i want anymore.
i suppose my sociology tutor doesn’t call us Generation Y / Why (as opposed to Gen-X) for a damn good reason.
or this could be another one of my demented blogs tinged by sleep deprivation and sheer longing for a good old malaysian style pig-out and the company of my friends.
whatever it is, blogs out.
something my friend wrote recently in his blog (thanks WY if you’re reading this!)gave me much food for thought.
he wanted to know why girls with overweening ,doting boyfriends thought their partners were the best thing since sliced bread, never mind the fact that he was an absolute a**hole to everyone else in his life.
does OTT pampering/ spending obscene amounts of money of you/ letting you have your way 24/7 equate to a good relationship?
as my friend rightly points out, if it doesn’t work out and you have to break up with him, you’re no longer his ‘cutie boogie-woogie pumpkin bums’.
you will be relegated to that sphere of ‘the others’ in his life (if you’re allowed to remain ‘in the zone’ that is), those others who deserve that special shitty treatment he metes out to them.
and just so no one says that i’m male-bashing here (believe me, fair and respectful treatment from a male is to be lauded, it is utterly doting overweening behaviour that i think is inappropriate), i’ll be fair and add an addendum as a sorry, soggy example of what passes for a relationship these days:
girl meets boy at nightclub.
boy likes girl.
boy rings girl.
girl lets boy chat her up, buy her branded handbags (total cost in the 4-digits region), wine and dine her, run her around in his European sports car etc etc etc.
girl also bitches about boy behind his back (one of the unfortunate recipients of these confidences happened to be me) and makes derogatory remarks about his weight, his appearance and his devotion (which she called soppy and dog-like).
boy buys girl the latest mobile phone.
girl sells said mobile for less than half of its recommended retail price and buys herself a pair of shoes.
girl tells boy what she’s done, laughs at him to his face and informs him that he shouldn’t think he can ‘buy’ her.
boy responds with utter adoration: "yes, i know, it’s because you’re so special, sweetie (insert other suitably nauseating love-name here).
the upshot of it is that he’s still pursuing her, she’s still taking him for a ride and i still have to put up with her parading his latest gift around 24/7 - unless she’s sold it because she would prefer cash of course.
*sigh*
there’s nothing scarier than a motivated jock (motivated as in classwork, not his performance on the footy field!)
i know that sounds like a contradiction in terms, but seriously.
there’s this jock in my psych tute who’s built like The Hulk and sounds like a gorilla, but boy oh boy, does he dig the subject!
he practically bulldozed the tutor into covering more material during our tute plus i overheard him whingeing about how much time he’d wasted doing readings which weren’t covered in the exams.
oh well, it’s not like he needed that time to hone his physique or anything - the circumference of his neck probably exceeds the girth of my waist as it is.
btw, for all you guys who aren’t easily grossed out, here’s a good one for you. today i stupidly mistook some dry skin on the bottom of my left heel for a bit of sticky tape and managed to rip half of it off! *gulps*
in my defense, i have only 2 things to say:
1. there is a lot of sticky tape floating around the flat at the minute as i’m revving to get into ‘card-making mode’ - Father’s Day and B.’s birthday being around the corner and all.
therefore, it’s an understandable (albeit no less painful) mistake.
2. and for all of you skincare queens out there who are wailing like banshees and bemoaning the state of my bedraggled hide, i have nothing to say.
just remember that i am the despair of my more *ahem* feminine friends, due to my monstrous disregard for the state of my skin/ hair/ nails/ wardrobe (or lack thereof!).
even my hairdresser (yes i do have one, i draw the line at looking like Cousin It from the Addams family) has yet to get me to condition my locks semi-occasionally, let alone perm/ colour/ streak/ straighten my mop-top.
i know that poor man is close to tears everytime i pop in for a haircut. i did tell him not to be so gentle aka to break out the hedge-trimmers but he is waaaaaay too nice for his own good as usual…
since i’ve just finished my mid-semesters, i seem to have plenty of time to do other (less productive?) stuff - window-shopping!
i am aware this sounds completely asinine as i work in a bloody shopping centre for god’s sake! but i’m usually running so late i don’t even have time to glance in any display windows, let alone stop and shop.
but so far, my roaming gaze has detected:
a pair of Skechers semi-perforated biking sneakers - $99.95
*sob sob* why, oh why did it have to be the most expensive pair in the shop?
an aquamarine paua shell-and-citrine ring - i swear i’ve looked at it so many times the stall-holder thinks i’m stalking her!
i have also developed an inexplicable and unexpected fondness for grosgrain ribbon. i am at a complete loss as to what i should do with said ribbon, should i purchase it.
so there you go, an entirely banal and inane rundown of the *thoughts that keep bouncing in my head* to the tune of *raindrops keep falling on my head*
Agent R. - never fear, i have not gone insane, contrary to whatever you’ve read here! hope things are going ok for you.
p/s: i keep trying to add (hopefully lucid and non-lunatic) comments to your blog, but it keeps %^$#&*@ asking me to log in. blah! anyways, have a good one!
p /ps: having claimed that i am not crazy though, i have to admit that sleep deprivation does make me do weird things *insert music from twilight zone here*
