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Regular updates with a cap on the whinyness: http://twitter.com/grasswren

Thanks for the romance

“What makes you think I won’t fart and ruin everything?”

“Cause you fart nothing but perfectly-formed bacon.”

Chemistry and other worthwhile happenings

Be random, it’s good for your life.

 

“The sun came in like a pack of orange spaniels

Through the window

Over the ledge

Under the curtain

On their bellies, creeping and bending”

Moulting

“Penguins also moult in a disorganised way. They cannot afford to lose many feathers at one time because of the cold. They stand around in large groups with new feathers growing all over their bodies. These new feathers push out the old ones which the bird then removes by preening. During the 2-3 weeks the moult takes, birds stand on the sea-shore unable to swim and therefore feed while the new feathers gradually replace the old ones.” Via this place.

 

Unable to swim and feed, let’s hope this moulting process wraps up soon! It is most uncomfortable.

 

I woke automatically at 8.30am and thought of him at the airport. I didn’t call, of course, I wouldn’t have held myself together and it would have been perplexing. So I just rolled fitfully about in bed till 11.30am, sat up, sobbed in inconvenient gasps that made it hard to brush my teeth, then straightened my back and refused to die.

 

I refuse this pain, it’s not like he even cut ties or said anything unkind (quite the opposite).  

 

Internships internships. The real root of my dissatisfaction is that I’ve had too many goodbyes in 2008 and this place is no longer sufficient to hold me up. I need another environment.

 

2009’s securely here, in six months I will have some reunions. Keep running forward, tipatapatipatapatip.

this is supposed to be any old Saturday

Who ever knows what someone else is thinking? Life has a funny way of disemboweling certainties.

 

I should be more confused than ever, some would say I should be blissful, but pooh bah now is not the time.

 

Review of cat and mouse game:

• I’ve been absailing merrily down the heights that could have been an unhealthy attachment to a detached boy, enjoying what’s left of the view.
• I’ve come to terms with the wonderful man meeting a wonderful girl who wasn’t me.
• I’ve taken off the crash helmet and retired indoors, in a room vacuumed of your skin cells and fallen hairs; I don’t cry when we talk, or at least I didn’t till yesterday.
• I’ve decided that company should be obtained the slow and old-fashioned way, with lots of mulling and shy glances, so I’ve taken to sitting in the library and waiting for serendipity to plop the mousekin in front of me. If it should materialize, I’ll do an honest job of it: iron my best dress, take him out to a polite dinner, send him home at a respectable hour. If nothing happens, I whistle away and bake consolatory cookies.

 

It is high time I pulled this emo shizz together. Up to me to put everything in its place. Except I forgot that you make surprising decisions too.

 

A boomerang whack of confessed tenderness on one hand, blank cheque of worry on the other. I’m not ready to make these petty choices right now. Cat and mouse game folded back into its box. The week’s been a series of explosions in the skerries and I’m feeling the ripples, insignificant in making some dear people happier. I guess all we can do is wait the storm out.

pause and reconsider

“Try not to fall in love.”

“I don’t know if that’s the kindest advice you’ve offered me. (For now it’s possibly the worst). You’re trying to keep me on the safe and boring side of happiness.”

But for some reason I find myself agreeing with you. Though I have nothing to lose, I don’t have anything to offer (Round 2! I am still at the bottom of the glass wall).

 

-surprised and disappointed- “Why do you say that? Why do you say you have nothing to offer?”

-flattered that she thinks well of me, but thinking of the realistic perspective instead of the motivating one-

“Because I really don’t.”  

 

———–

Ethnography mega long don’t know how to cut down don’t know what the hell I’m writing but it’s about cosmopolitanism and museumization and money and I want it to be genius without the pretension!

Keep on moving.

Doing the usual pervert routine. “I don’t have a chance in hell!” 

“You think that matters? The little tomato was no different or better than the other tomatoes, but I said, HELL, this one I like!”

“You mean I am like all the tomatoes?!”

“You my darling are a cuttlefish. Moving and grooving amongst the vegetables.”

“That’s disgusting.”

“But this one I like.”

Quote of the Day

I’ve had three days of accosting (and getting rejected by) everyone from giggly schoolboys to burly women, but no one was half as interesting as Jason:

“He showed me shaved armpits.. and I knew it was something to do with my ex.”

When doing street intercept surveys, the most compassionate people are laptop-toting students (empathy), military men (both the loris-eyed National Slaves and gruff but sweet higher-ups) and housewives (approaching frumpy, but oh so cute for the way they beam at you).

Dating 2.0

All this talk about dating nowadays. I admit I’ve been generating part of it but I suppose everyone’s starting to buzz a little because we’re all bouncing back from our smashed hearts and developing feelings, yada yada. 

 

At dinner my dad piped up, “Remember! Don’t kiss boys when they’re ill!” And eyed me as though I have a sickly boy to kiss. I have a feeling my parents are tired of me being single and were mildly disappointed that I did not return from Korea with G-Dragon in tow. Each conquest is a shiny ornament for them to admire and compare and the terrible thing is that some of my mother’s friends know about these guys too. I hope my parents realise my singleton status is charitable to the wallet, because their daughter has always liked emptying her bank account hopping all over with the obsession of the year, and racking up the minutes yakking on the phone. 

 

Personally, apart from days of intense whiny-ness, I’m finding it lovely having a plate full of nothing but my own concerns. I’m like a kid in a candy store. Except when I want to cook two-person meals or sew menswear. Which happens every other day, egads. I am contrary and confusing, it is distressing.

“I think… -shuffle shuffle- I think it is really dorky but the library and cemetery are awesome places to go on dates!! *_*”

“Well if with booze any place is good.”

“Ha that is true lovey.”

“Its not dorky at all, cool if anything. The key is a balance.”

“Really? i hope more boys can think like you then I can take them to movies, nomnoms, libraries, cemeteries and hotels.”

“Hahahha feed them and fuck them. HAHA!”

“We will go everywhere with holga, beer, tissue and wallet.”

To be honest when I said hotels it was a flashback to the days of Boyfriend#2, when for sheer nonsensicality we would enjoy the luxe lobbies of Singapore’s best, attempting to look as foreign and wealthy as possible till chased out by the $10 bottles of water and $15 fruit juice.

 

But, my dear, I’d buy you anything to drink at all if you’d just drink it with me.

 

I get the impression that you don’t pee or drink or suffer bloatedness ever. Just saying.