What do dead people do with their journals?

Because Po wrote about this time last year, I dug out one of my journals to see what I was doing then.




On Sunday, 28 September 2008, I wrote:

I was happy and excited on Friday arvo when I finally confirmed my leaving date with [my boss] and booked my ticket [to London] with [friend who works at a travel agency] and told [Nasty] about it.

But I came home and was promptly put down by mom.

Then I have to deal with [my brother].

I spent that night crying my eyes out watching The Notebook.




So basically, I bawled my eyes out the night I have confirmed arrangements to come to London.




Which is not exactly what I really said on this blog.

This blog has a facade. It is written to be cringe-proof. (Or at least I think).




I cringe when I read back on my journals. I hope when I die, they will somehow automatically self-destruct.

a Monday moment of self-introspection

I got ID’ed this evening buying a bottle of wine.

It must be the most exciting thing that can happen on a Monday.

In fact, it was such a rare occurence for me (*gasp* it could very well be my last!) I mumbled my words and fumbled around in my bag.

I didn’t have a photo ID on me.

After much questioning and convincing, she said: “I believe you.”

At that point, I wasn’t so sure whether I would be happier walking away with or without my bottle of wine.

My life in a comic strip

*click on the strips to see a larger, more readable version*

I’ve been reading a lot of Em cartoons lately.

It’s a comic strip that appears inconspicuously in a bottom corner of The London Paper. I never really paid attention, but over time, I realise that it’s the one section of the paper I actually look forward to reading it when I get my hands on a copy. These days, I usually read it online.

I find it highly amusing and very relatable, esp. for a 20-something living in a big city, esp. London, since it sometimes contain London-specific references (it’s published in The London Paper after all!). I’d like to say it’s a strip written by girls for girls, but because of how accurately, and yet how very funnily, it relates guy-girl relationships these days, girls will recognise aspects of themselves in the girl characters, and guys themselves in the very stereotypically guy characters. I recommend guys to read it too – provides an insight into the girl’s mind! ;)

Many a times, I can definitely see Nasty and I in them.

For example, this is very easily one of many similar dialogues I’ve had with Nasty, and the aftermath:

And this is what happens 90% of the time when I have to deal with Transport for London or National Rail:

And this is the sort of conversation I have with my girlfriends all the time  :)  :

A prescription for loneliness

My very good friend Cora has recently uprooted from Hong Kong and moved alone to New York City to do her post-doctorate research.

We’ve always had lots to talk about, and now that she’s going through something I’ve been going through, we have even more to discuss.

I’ve found that we both have this overwhelming desire to see someone, or be with someone, familiar.

There are good days, and there are bad. And when things don’t go the way you want them to, you really just need a friendly familiar face.

I’m all for meeting new people and making new friends, but there’s only so much talking to strangers you can do, only so much of introducing yourself you want to do.

Sometimes, you just wanna plop down and yak about random things without having to go through the whole “Hi, I’m Dora. Nice to meet you.”-and-”So what do you do?” phase.

Over the week, I’ve asked a number of friends about meeting people in a new city. It seems like the concensus is that it takes about one year for the average person to get settled and to make any meaningful friendships. It also appears that the older you get, the longer and more effort it takes to meet people. The fact that I’ve been moving around and obsessed about certain things also doesn’t help.

The bad news is: I’ve still got many months to go, and I get so frustrated, I take it out on the only person that I have, which is extremely unfair, and knowing that it’s not right frustrates me even more. I’m sorry.

The good news is: Well, it’s not just me. So I guess there’s nothing wrong with me afterall…

For our predicament: Cora and I are precribing ourselves lots of sleep and lots of exercise. Coincidentally, two days after I bought my bike, Cora got hers for US$60 in NYC! Sleep and bike it is!

As another friend says, projecting negative energy is not gonna draw anyone in!

It’s my birthday today! Woohoo!