and we'll play summer on repeat;

2010-02-15T04:42:00.000-08:00

You saved my life he says I owe you everything.

You don’t, I say, you don’t owe me squat, let’s just get going, let’s just get gone, but he’s

relentless,

keeps saying I owe you, says Your shoes are filling with your own damn blood,

you must want something, just tell me, and it’s yours.

But I can’t look at him, can hardly speak,

I took the bullet for all the wrong reasons, I’d just as soon kill you myself, I say.

You keep saying I owe you, I owe… but you say the same thing every time.

Let’s not talk about it, let’s just not talk.

Not because I don’t believe it, not because I want it any different, but I’m always saving

and you’re always owing and I’m tired of asking to settle the debt.

Don’t bother.

You never mean it anyway, not really, and it only makes me that much more ashamed.

There’s only one thing I want, don’t make me say it, just get me bandages, I’m bleeding,

I’m not just making conversation.

There’s smashed glass glittering everywhere like stars. It’s a Western, Henry,

it’s a downright shoot-em-up. We’ve made a graveyard out of the bone white afternoon.

It’s another wrong-man-dies scenario

and we keep doing it, Henry, keep saying until we get it right…

but we always win and we never quit, see, we’ve won again, here we are at the place

where I get to beg for it

where I get to say Please, for just one night, will you lay down next to me, we can leave our

clothes on, we can stay all buttoned up?

or will I say

Roll over and let me fuck you till you puke, Henry, you owe me this much, you can indulge me

this at least, can’t you? but we both know how it goes. I say I want you inside me

and you hold my head underwater, I say I want you inside me

and you split me open with a knife. I’m battling monsters, half-monkey, half-tarantula,

I’m pulling you out of the burning buildings and you say I’ll give you anything.

But you never come through.

Give me bullet power. Give me power over angels. Even when you’re standing up

you look like you’re lying down, but will you let me kiss your neck, baby? Do I have to

tie your arms down?

Do I have to stick my tongue in your mouth like the hand of a thief, like a burglary

like it’s just another petty theft? It makes me tired, Henry. Do you see what I mean?

Do you see what I’m getting at?

You swallowing matches and suddenly I’m yelling Strike me. Strike anywhere.

I swear, I end up feeling empty, like you’ve taken something out of me, and I have to search

my body for the scars, thinking

Did he find that one last tender place to sink his teeth in? I know you want me to say it, Henry,

it’s in the script, you want me to say Lie down on the bed, you’re all I ever wanted

and worth dying for too

but I think I’d rather keep the bullet this time. It’s mine, you can’t have it, see,

I’m not giving it up. This way you still owe me, and that’s

as good as anything.

You can’t get out of this one, Henry, you can’t get it out of me, and with this bullet

lodged in my chest, covered with your name, I will turn myself into a gun, because

it’s all I have,

because I’m hungry and hollow and just want something to call my own. I’ll be your

slaughterhouse, your killing floor, your morgue and final resting, walking around with this

bullet inside me

‘cause I couldn’t make you love me and I’m tired of pulling your teeth. Don’t you see, it’s like

I’ve swallowed your house keys, and it feels so natural, like the bullet was already there,

like it’s been waiting inside me the whole time.

Do you want it? Do you want anything I have? Will you throw me to the ground

like you mean it, reach inside and wrestle it out with your bare hands?

If you love me, Henry, you don’t love me in a way I understand.

Do you know how it ends? Do you feel lucky? Do you want to go home now?

There’s a bottle of whiskey in the trunk of the Chevy and a dead man at our feet

staring up at us like we’re something interesting.

This is where the evening splits in half, Henry, love or death. Grab an end, pull hard,

and make a wish.

- Wishbone, Richard Siken.

2010-02-15T01:17:00.001-08:00

"there's a place i know

if you're looking for a show

where they go hardcore

and there's glitter on the floor

there's a place downtown

where the freaks all come around

it's a hole in the wall

it's a dirty free for all"

2010-02-06T06:18:00.001-08:00

MM WHATCHA SAY;
----

Honestly- how could anything today be all that bad after getting front row tickets to Imogen Heap? (!!!)

March will roll around.
And seeing Imi live with Ash and WL, less than TWO METRES AWAY FROM MY FACE with all her electronik magick and dreamfinger sorcery and tectonic warble is going to be a spiritual experience.

I saw E.P today, and it didn't feel like Girl, Interrupted.
Which is a relief.

I am doing...great, and not so good; so averaged out I suppose that makes me okay.

I'M ALL RIGHT IN THE DAYTIME

And tomorrow I'm going to
going to
going to
.

I miss Boston already, though!
It feels odd not waking up in the morning, prodding Angie to get the wakeup phone call, sifting through my mess of a suitcase and somehow managing to locate black stockings and eyeliner, and then turning up the volume on The Virgins while the shower runs. And then heading downstairs with Lisa to get our ritualistic morning cinnamon dolce latte; before navigating up the escalator in impossible patent black heels and going for the first Legal Comm session of the day.
Hell- I almost MISS the conferences that stretched on till crazy 1145 at night.
Followed by a hot bath, Lisa and I in our breezy Indonesian pyjamas, and then random people heaping into random rooms and collapsing on beds after much laughter and long talk at 2AM to sleep till 7 the next morning.

And I miss the general hilarity.

Dora was upset, cuz she left the softballs she got for Kai as prezzies back in the Sheraton.

Dor: I left them back in the Sheratonnnn.
Lisa: ...You left Kai's balls in Boston?
Cara: Party in the USA!

Honourable Delegation '10. I love y'all like Miley loves her sweet nibblets.
Yeehaw.

Am currently working on my H3 Lit proposal.
Primary texts: Looking for Alaska, On The Road, and The Secret History.
On The Road has to be one of my favourite new books. I love it, but barely understand it, and yet the more I flip back through the pages, the more I feel like we get each other. In a raw, ephemeral way.
Do I make sense?
No?
That's okay- it happens a lot.

But it's like there's just pages upon swimming pages of beautiful words- words you grasp at, even though you don't understand. Because you get this feeling that if you could just get past their raw, spirit-soaked madness; then behind them would be the infinity scroll shining clear and golden and undeniable.

On another note- ...TWENTY MINUTES MORE.
Where are you, sharp-talking distraction? Hurry hurry get over here.

69 72 00 55 15 18. 7809343408. 145901!

I miss you, yesterday boy,
and I've realized that the word "yesterday" is imperative.

I wrote a song today, and it had the simplest words I'd ever written.
But I liked it.

2010-02-03T03:17:00.000-08:00

Today, Lisa and I went to the bookstore. I love the way people stare at us on the streets when we go out- love the juxtaposition of light and dark, crystal-like and tawny, wide eyed and deep lashed, her clear mirror eyes and mine the ones he said he once fell into and never came back.

And I got books.

So many books.

I know...I'm such a geek; but what can you do? At least I'm the good kind.

Lisa got George Orwell's 1984 and we both found the rare prized Looking For Alaska(!) and I have Jack Kerouac's On The Road and came away, too, with an impulse buy- Patti Smith's Auguries of Innocence. Gravitated towards it while my eyes were fingering the shelves and I found it and picked it up and leafed through it .

And then I knew I couldn't leave it behind. Because the pages whispered and the words throbbing, knowing, waiting in them were sacrilege and darkly sacred all at once and they were murmuring my name in devilsbells and I couldn't leave them behind.

oh, this word madness. oh, this catharsis of ink and story and bone.

I have scorpions on my ears and I will sting you for every lie you whisper.

I will lift cool, clear walls and maroon you, you with your impeccable ideals and your right compass and your debatable arrow; like a one-man Atlantis/

will hear you as you sink, the thousand voices of the thousand people we could have been rising in dreadful cacophony as the water rises over your godhead and i will laugh/

I will lose myself in the words of poets and beatboys and the Madman Who Saw God.

will lie on tawny shores and let the waves wash over every line of my body and into my lungs until when I sing it will be seawater and when I speak they will hear the voice of Poseidon in a great and rushing roar of pain.

I will swallow the great terrible darkness

but sing wild and dreadful hallelujahs to a God who killed me over an altar, whispering "die to yourself"

and when I finally learn to listen I shall rise from the cinders of Abraham, of Isaac ringing with all the fear and all the light and all the understanding of Tomorrow--

he will call me phoenixchild:

i, laughing, will rocket skywards with waxen wings ablaze.

2010-01-25T05:16:00.000-08:00

"and so I go, into the great Perhaps"

----

There are many kinds of love in the world.

And when you find that one is not for you; you learn to lean- gently, tentatively- on the others.

This love is good.

God has given me beautiful, beautiful friends. You know who you are- thank you, all of you, for your warmth and support and the tender hands you're using to hold me up.

Last night was horrible. I gave up the one thing I had tried to hold onto, and then and only then did they take me, crying softly shoulders shaking, into their bed.

I don't know whether to feel comforted or repulsed.

And yet with all the drifting loneliness, the sudden, occasional rushing of air from my ribcage and the currents behind empty lids

there is a sad, sweet sense of relief.

At least the way now is clear.

I would have fought every inch of the thorny road,

but at least now the way is clear, and that is a small mercy.

You can breathe again. I don't want you to hurt any more.

Who knows where we stand, in our Book of Days?

Maybe One Day. Maybe never. Maybe Neverland. Maybe Everland, maybe Evermore.

You and I know we loved.

And that is all that needs to be written.

2010-01-20T05:33:00.000-08:00

I'm not used to the awkward silences.

The way his eyes grow cold around me, then sad, then cold again.

I'm not used to not curling up on his pillow at night, and talking like a seven year old about my day.

I'm not used to not being grumbled at for kissing his shoulder when we hug, just because it's just the right height for being kissed.

I'm not used to not being his favourite, even though he tries to hide it and pretend he doesn't play favourites.

I'm not used to swinging one languid thigh from my chair and glancing at him from the sides of my eyes, like what we're talking about doesn't hurt.

...But I've chosen where I stand.

And it's not his1 side, or his2 side.

It's my side. And this stand is all the things I should have said a long time ago.

Tantrums don't work, and screaming doesn't work. Noise is overrated, so I'm going to stand here in my metaphorical wheatfield and be silent and look up at the sky with quiet eyes. fall asleep with flowers in my hands.

electric gingerheaded boy, last night: "...nothing lasts. and the truth of that devastates me."

on the plus side, i had purple icecream today.

and my friends made me laugh.

and yesterday i wrote a song about a mermaid and a man, and it was good.

2010-01-18T07:07:00.000-08:00

But in the garden of simple where all of us are nameless you were never anything but beautiful to me/

and, you know, they never really owned you./

You just carried them around/

and then one day you put 'em down/

and found your hands were free.

---

It is 11:11 and I'm wondering if wishes count as prayers.

Does God answer them? Or do they all go to the Tooth Fairy? Or Santa Claus? Britain's all snowed out, so there's no way the North Pole's gonna be getting any reception.

Thank you for the awfullychocolate today, DWL. And the letters, and the presents. I love you guys!

I don't care if eighteen doesn't feel like eighteen; at least I've got good love.

Whitby, pushing for answers: So... (scritches away on whiteboard)...MAN created MACHINE. And what does MACHINE create that MAN needs? MAN needs.....?

Class: ...

Whitby: Oh come on, you lot.

Class: ....

Whitby, getting desperate: It starts with a T.

Lisa: Uh.

Cara: Uh.

Whitby, getting reaaaally desperate: "...T....One syllable. T..."

Lisa, tentatively: ..T..in?

Cara, tentatively: ...Toys?

Whitby: *headdesk*

Am currently: working on a SEA History essay outline, catching up with an old friend, drinking hot, sweet tea and listening to the velvet underground. Altogether bearable. If I keep living like this, one day by one day; I AM going to survive this year, dammit.

And on the note of survival- congratulations on making it to 18, Lis. :D

I've already written you a longass letter, so. I'll keep this short, but you know I love you.

I wrote a song, today, and I'm glad. It's been ages since I've been able to write anything...though I'm starting to doubt the use of "writer" as a title, seeing as how my pen only ever moves properly when I've got museblood in my veins. So maybe the term "mouthpiece" would be better.

Mouthpiece to what?

...I don't know. But I kinda wish whatever it was would talk a bit more. I've missed writing.

This is a short, choppy little entry- but hey- it's a start.

...Baby steps. To this. To everything. To now.

Here we go.

2009-12-07T18:05:00.000-08:00

"be sure to wear some flowers in your hair!"

---

jetting off in a few hours.

Roll on, Humanz Kidz! bring on the palaces and pashminas and black boots and bubblewrap jackets.

Back on the 19th, y'all.

2009-12-06T01:27:00.000-08:00

let's get drunk, you can drive us to the harbour
wish upon the stars, but do you know what stars are?
balls of fire, burning up the black space, falling from the landscape
exploding in the face of God;
----

[insert two weeks of general awesomeness here]

... So.
I'm back from the Land of the Free and the Brave and the SuperSized Portions which I could not finish.

L.A was neat. Maybe I'm just wide-eyed and naive and seventeen, but L.A's the kind of place where a different kind of magic (without the k) happens. Everything's glitzy and full of possibility (stagelights, alleyways, letdowns). Blink once and you get glitter in your eyes.

Utah was incredible, too.
The powder? ...tres fantastic. Home Run, Sidewinder, Treasure Hollow, Pay Day = CONQUERED.
Take that, gravity.

I also realized a couple of things. Like how my family can be pretty awesome at times. But also pretty cheesy. How he isn't really the superhero he used to be in my six year old eyes. How I don't like emotional family scenes because they make me squirm.

Also, I have realized that I can cook. :D
Ha, nonbelievers!

I prepared a whole chicken. Like, all by myself. On a plate and everything.
Okay so granted; I did not catch nor pluck nor cook that chicken, but...y'know. It takes some skill to maneuvre a microwave.

And I, for the record, am a pretty kickass microwaver.

Thank you for the holiday, family. And God.
Without whom I would still be stuck where I was a week and three days ago, which is...oh God, I don't even want to talk about it.

So I'm back home now.

EIGHTEEN DAYS. :D :D :D :D :D

HMUN spar tomorrow, for which I am France, and also supremely unprepared. I've got words like short selling and financial crisis and AIGs and debit accounts swimming around in my head and ohh tomorrow will be interesting to watch.

Also,
I don't like that I have come to care so much.

It scares me.

If I'm Pocahontas like everyone says I am; ...where's my spinning arrow?

Still, though.
I have Lisa, and the DWL; and I'd pick them over Grandmother Willow any day.
(Plus, they're more portable. I am against deforestation)

I love you guys.

We can be each other's gravity.

xxx

"Taste the saline rolling down your cheekbone
Tell me that you're alone, tell me on the telephone
Feel your heart, it breaks within your chest now
Try to get some rest now; sleep's not coming easy for a while, child"

2009-11-17T07:11:00.000-08:00

Yippeekayay; jettin' to El Ayy.

Okay, so last day in Singapore for...a while.

Lawd; I am gonna need mad caffeine to blitz through the next month! Then again, L.A.'s home of the Starbucks trend so that shouldn't be a problem.

I'VE FINALLY FINISHED PACKING.

I brought some weather appropriate clothes, and lots of hats and bangles, and eyeliner. And (yes, Lisa) my heeled boots. And also this disgustingly clunky Timberland pair that my mum insists IS mine but I know they're not!!! For one, my foot only takes up about 2/3 of the shoe...

I think I must've accidentally snitched them off Joe during Summer or something because DAMMIT THEY ARE NOT MINE they're, like, the size of those Eskimo tennis racket shoes they cover about a third of the length of my leg. :/

Have also brought along the 10098302983209 revision packages that we've gotta do for school...which I am probably not going to finish anyway but I'm bringing them along still. Just to feel productive.

I'm gonna miss everyone back home, though.

Manda- Why aren't you going to L.A sooner! Then we could totally meet up and devise plots and plans to stop my sister from going on a statewide Sel Gomez Huntdown.

Carol- ...Breathe. :D I'm looking forward to our long overdue shopping trip. Only by the time I come back, I'll probably be bankrupt...

Di- Di Dangerous and Cara Clandestine. Lookin' forward to it, darling.

Toni- you are officially a Top 3 Percentile genius, and I think your plan is tres awesome, and I'll give the original Fantastic Four (who're way less cool than us, btw) a salute at Universal Studios when I see them.

Yes, Lisa, I will not sprain my ankle in my heeled boots, thank you. I run across the road in skyhigh heels, dammit. I can DOO this. A little faith?!

...That aside; stay alive for a bit cuz we're rooming together for le Humans Trip! And then after that, have lots of fun in Greece and bring back an Adonis. Also give my regards to the Lady Artemis.

Josh, I promise to get Tisdale's autograph if I see her.

...Yes, and Selena Gomez.

Yes, and...and Miley Cyrus.

...Yes, Josh. Yes, I will also get Demi Lovato's autograph for you if I see her in La La Land even if I have to make her sign it in blood and fedex it over to Get Back to you because ohhh Here We Go Again.....

...now shush and go watch your Disney Channel. :D

Joe- I will finally be among people who pronounce things correctly. Like me.

...I may also miss you, a little bit.

RAWR EXXCITING this month's going to whizz past and oh WOW I'm going to die next year but I figure I might as well enjoy it while this lasts.

Because I only get to be seventeen once. And come next year I will be 18, and therefore ancient.

Also very busy with A Levels.

...But for now; I'm young, alive, loved- and have the holidays to live up.

Till I get back, y'all.

Love you guys.

2009-11-12T05:22:00.000-08:00

"but what about the african people?"
---

Notes from 2nd HMUN training
As recorded by Elizabeth Fong, NJC, ECOFIN, Serial Number 16797823Z:

i. Global Currency: Yes, or No?
ii. South Korea+Aid to North Korea
iii. Missile Defence Systems: euphemism for "if we go to war, I will own you, so you better give me the better end of the trading stick NOW."

Forget about the LEDC-MEDC braindrain- what about mine?
Starbucks session on Saturday planned, with Lisa. We will finish our position papers, dammit. We will UNDERSTAND and GRASP.

I miss being the delegation of North Korea, as per ASEAN DHS 2009.

Stand up during unmoderated caucus and give an absolutely circular, unjustified statement?
...Hey, at least we're talking now. (Next stop: Six Party talks.)

Choose to spend the rest of the session evil-eyeing the U.S of A and not saying anything at all?
...Buggers should be grateful we've not walked out of this razzmatazz. As per earned reputation.

Allies?
We have CHINA. Whose local population pwnz rest of the world's, therefore = automatic WIN.

And if someone serves us bad crepes at teatime/slams our resolution/slams the Great Leader/wants to put MORE sanctions on the caviar?

...REMEMBER WHO HAS THE NUKES.

2009-11-10T07:08:00.000-08:00

O-P is O-VER

Two exams in a day.
That's gotta be a record of some sort, right?
...oh yeah I forgot; we live in Asia.

So Higher Chinese wasn't as bad as I'd expected. I finished the second paper at 12:15, then capped up all my pens and zipped up my pencil case and sat there waiting expectantly for the invigilators to come around and collect our papers. Got some funny looks; and then looked at the screen again and realized that only the Chinese people end at 12:15. Higher Chinese people get till 12:45.
Grr.
So I sat there, rechecked my answers, and then swung-leg and wrote poetry in the margins and doodled sketches of the Rolleston's tattoo-to-be. (because that's in Chinese, so it counts)

OP was fun/ny.
I think we all went a little bit crazy after it ended- WJ was bouncing up and down and so was Carol and I was making paper planes from my scripts and intending to fly them off the school tower.
"...to represent our hopes and dreams!!"

Cue weird looks from the rest of the group. And then Carol, "...Cara. There're only 2 Science kids here. THEY'RE the ones with the Hopes And Dreams. Not us."

...Poppycock sez I!
I have hopes and dreams too. Like, um. To live in Stratford as a starving thespian and sell bits of poetry in jamjars and have lots of love and laughter and candlelight.
...at least. That's what the Movie Me would do.

The Real Me realized that sending my paper planes aloft from the school tower probably wouldn't settle very well. Because it would be just like Life to hand me detention on the day OP ended. So I didn't.
Another reason why I didn't: I was hanging off the balcony ledge, dangling one of my paper planes; ...and then Xu Yang looked over and, with an expression of slight disdain, went, "...You shouldn't bother. Yours won't fly."

Oh gee, thanks, Physicz Kid. So it's You and Gravity Vs Me And Paper Plane, hm?

On another note; ...V.Bunny, darling.
I hope you feel better soon.
Because you deserve a strong, shining man not a
glorifed limpet.

And on another another note.
...I don't have to go to school tomorrow YAY
for the first time in eons; because although school technically ended two weeks ago, what with HMUN and PW and HCL, we've all been going back to school almost everyday.
So tomorrow I will have a long, earned lie-in. And then I will swim. And then I will finish up the OEP packing list, plan what to say for the briefing, and then get started on my HMUN position paper.

So much to do. I mean- honestly- what holiday? I'm away, effectively, for almost a month in total. And then Oly Poly Stone (WJ's creation, not mine)'s coming down and we're going to live infinitely and I don't think living infinitely constitutes calculating limits on my GC...ugh damn but am going to have to do it anyway; I know that.
And then school starts and as a kind of "Welcome Back; This Year You Will DIE" gift, we get a Math test on the 6th, on eeeverything that's been tested this year. Which I basically slogged my arse off for and still got a D ; so you can imagine what's gonna happen when I don't have time to study.

OH WELL c'est la vie.
We can practice Math together, hm, Rolleston? You pump iron; I'll count your reps.
We'll start with the basics.
3 + 7 = ..?

Speaking of numbers. I should get back to compiling the OEP packing list.
Mum, when she heard I was asked to do up the packing list: "...You? Packing list? You're the last person they should ask!"
Cara: "Yeah, like. 'Okay, y'aaaall, so, like, remember to bring your cute shoes, and your mascara, and ofc eyelinerrr...' "
Mum: " '...aaand, like, make sure, it's, like, waterproof and all...' "

...Okay look am not that much of a lost case.
Really.

Thermal leggings, flannels, jeans ( oh D: ), boots, poncho.

...See?
I can think Basics, too.

2009-11-09T04:50:00.000-08:00

Okay, so the world's dead and/or M.I.A 'cept Lisa; who banged into TA31 today with a scowl and the snuffles and a packet of strawberry marshmallows.

I miss everyone. Plans- oh yeah yeah yeah, my foot.

...Yeah; another manic Monday. So much to do, and 2 exams tomorrow. Plan briefing, plan packing list, organize OEP booklet, SH Humans Open House proposal, InR, read up for Legal Com...
whoamg my head.
Okay can do this will do this.

Also, B.F.G.
Am on FB Newsfeed now, and just...what, sorry?
Darling- the only fan you've got s'on the ceiling.
So don't flatter yourself; and don't charter the jet before you hit your platinum.
Also- please don't call. I won't pick up.

You're not the only one who's killed that dream.
I had to do that too- hold it down like a sleeping baby and smother it with a pillow.
See- Walt Disney had something going when he said dreams come true but more than often, common sense wins out.

.
Oh
my
GOODNESSGRACIOUS I'm becoming quite the Thomas Hardy.
Minus the award winning novel.

Okay this is my cue to sign off.
Am not actually sad. Just weird. But we all already knew that.

Happy Week, world.

xxx

2009-11-08T06:18:00.000-08:00

I don't know why I bought sundresses and turquoise and thin silk and anklets today.
I am not going on a beach holiday- I'm going to 7deg, 2deg, and -7deg celcius places respectively, dammit.

Oh well.
I can always turn up the lights and blast the central heating and make believe, can't I?

Ten more days till we fly off to L.A.
I still haven't started packing yet. Grr. I hate packing. I always end up packing all the pretty stuff and forgetting half the important stuff.
I still say best strategy= conveniently forget everything, and go there and stock up.
Note to self: invest in calling cards before we leave. No way in Hades I'm repeating my Epic Phonebill Incident again.
Even if they DID send me a Red Prestige VIP card because of that.
Or, as they put it- my "extensive patronization of their telecommunication services".
I still laugh whenever I think of it. What a story.
I think it was worth it.

The world has gone M.I.A lately.
OKAY GUYS 'FESS UP. I KNOW YOU'RE NOT DEAD I SEE Y'ALL ON FACEBOOK NEWSFEED.

...Things'll be better once PW OP ends.
Once Higher Chinese ends.
Once the math test on 6th January (why do you do these things to me) ends.
Once Prelims end.
Once A Levels end.
Once...
...once my life ends?

Am starting to see a trend, here.

...Noo.
Don't you all want to live while you're still seventeen?

This post is incoherent, but it's basically been a goodish day and I've got InR to finish so adieu, Blogger, will come back when I've got more words and more sense.

2009-11-04T07:53:00.000-08:00

Today has been up down and in between.

1. Up:
Thank you, Jesus.

2. Down:
Let it go like you said you would.

3. In between:
more Downtown time at Holland Village.
I went to get my hair done, because Mum wanted to get me cheered up, and Uncle Derrick gave me soft curls at the end of it and I went around for the next hour or so feeling as light and floaty as my hair.
He asked me how many boyfriends I had.
I said one.
He asked for a picture.
I showed it to him.
He gave a slight start and went, "...white??"
and I laughed.
My boyfriend could be green with tangerine polka dots for all I care, and I'd still love him. (and laugh at him maybe, but just a little bit)
People are amusing little individuals sometimes.

Spent the rest of the day doing Chinese, looking at pretty pictures in soft focus and melancholy light, and watching old black and white videos.
I'm not as upset over It now as some people probably think I should be. I think the rain has a way of washing away things, and today's rain was nice...just the soft, insistent kind. The kind that traps you at home but you don't mind so much because it doesn't feel so much of being trapped as being protected. Like when I was little and whenever it rained I would make a nest out of duvets and lie there in that cool, dark, safe warmth feeling like nothing could reach me.

Long jaunt around town with Lisa, yesterday.
Icecream cones and velvety memories, intimate secrets.
We talked about how scary it is that now everyone's growing up and next year will be exceptionally strange because next year we'll have to stare the Future straight in the eye. And about how much we've all changed since the end of last year; since the start of this year. How some of us have lost a little bit of innocence of spirit, and some of us- wildness of heart.

And it's sad; how we're never going to get those little girls back.

But I guess when it comes down to it, everyone's always reinventing. And as much as I think I'm old sometimes (we were around when Westlife and Boys 2 Men were still cool, dammit. We were around when MJ died. And when Hi Five was THE original Hi Five), I'm only seventeen, and like Joe said- I shouldn't be afraid of the Me Down The Road; because she won't be a complete stranger, 'cause she'll just be a gradual evolution of all my gradual evolutions.

Hm.

Lisa and I also talked about how everything eventually fades, and we all eventually move on.
How after a while, we'll look back and wonder if we dreamed up all of this.

I don't want that.
Stupid Alzheimer's of the heart.

2009-11-01T01:10:00.000-07:00

"we are the monsters underneath your bed"

-----

So yesterday's party was pretty much awesome.

re: The Fourckers Bite Back- Halloween Edition.

I made Jello because nobody trusted me to make elf bread. ):

When Divij and I walked into Carol's house; the first thing that happened --> we got roped into the kitchen to peel apples.

"How many apples?"

"35!"

"O_O"

So we turned it into a competition.

I won, for the record. And no, Xu Yang- I did NOT whittle down 1 apple to 1/2 an apple in the process. You're just biased cuz you think you can chop celery so damn well don't think I don't know.

I can be domesticated if I want to.

Only I got laughed at by Carol, because I was trying to help her with her recipe for making cinnamon filling- and following what was printed on the page, I went and rummaged for a tablespoon in the cutlery drawer, and a glass cup from IKEA in the cupboard.

...Apparently when cookbooks say "1 cup" and "1 tbsp"-- they mean SPECIAL cups and SPECIAL tablespoons. That look nothing like proper cups and tablespoons to begin with.

And then I got laughed at AGAIN because she asked me to pour out 1/2 a cup of brown sugar, only the brown sugar was all hard and packed together, so I tried to break it up into little bits with the nearest thing I could find.

Carol: *picks up packet of brown sugar* *surveys it* :I ....Cara. Why are there chopper marks all over the packet?

Cara: ...Uhhh.

Well, sssssorry. Yan Can Cook but Cara Sure Can't.

Pumpkin (with no pumpkin eyes; I'm sorry!), Wednesday Addams, Lolita, Charlie, Witch In Trash Bag ;), Devil, Chang Er, Fairy Princess, Chinese Ghost, Circusmaster.

We're so cool. 8D

I swear we all acted more seven than seventeen; but it was fan-friggin'-tastic. Kudos to the Bean and Tracy for being such awesome GMs, and to Carol for hands down being the most. dedicated hostess. ever. I swear. That girl churned out like 12309820938098899 pies and don't even GET ME STARTED on the cinnamon rolls with orange frosting.

...Which, by the way, were absolutely delish; and aaaaalmost as good as my Jello. ;)

The scene from Flowers For Algernon went pretty great, too; if punctuated throughout by catcalls and cries of "...boo Charlieeee"/ "Charlie is a bastard!" and "closer! closer!!".

Can't accuse THIS audience of not being engaged.

Gwen would make a very good Special Child.

I'd almost forgotten how much I love acting, and the way the Moment just takes you!

...And this time round, it took me so wholly that I forgot all about our agreement to stage slap, and ended up giving Divij one loud, resounding one across the cheek.

Overheard, later on--

Divij, to Quyen, while rubbing his cheek: ...Wow. The first time I got slapped by a girl.

Quyen: *unintelligible mumble here*

Divij: And on my birthday, too!

Poor guy.

...Sorry, birthday boy!

DRAW THE L--...FACE.

We are all veritable Picassos.

Trick or Treating-- we have some verrry proficient liars in our class. ;)

And XUYANG AND KAIYUAN HAHAHA oh my word. Futures at Paree Fahshion Week, anyone?

From RJ's blog:

" (During Shoot Shag Marry)

Divij: Shoot Wenjia! Shag….Cara.

-Later-

Janice: Of course I will shoot that guy, he’s my good friend what! So weird to shag/marry a good friend!

Serene: Huh, so you’ll shoot a good friend??

Wenjia: …I don’t want to be Janice’s good friend.

Is that why you chose to shoot me Divij? Cause we’re good friends! :D

Divij: Yeah! Yeah! That’s why!

Cara: *realizes* !! But, then… :( "

Sitting around the mahogany table afterwards, everyone with a fork in hand and RJ determinedly/plaintively/desperately plowing into the oreo cheesecake ("...must finish! cannot waste!") and playing Shoot Shag Marry and being stupid and silly and funny and Together.

Silent nods to One Absent Friend. You'll be in our prayers.

...and all that's missing = Old School playing, on loop, in the background.

You guys make me feel like glowsticks and sparklers.

2009-10-28T06:55:00.001-07:00

p-p-p-party in the usa

---

...that's right. I so just used a Miley Cyrus quote to kick off my blogpost.

So what you got?

HARVARD MUN 2010, BABY.

Lots of hard work, and many sessions, but well worth while, I reckon.

Team Delegation South Korea hits LAX.

Oh, and Lisa- bring your journal and a suitcase of dreams, because Harvard, here we come.

America baby, you're gonna be seeing a lot of me over the next few months.

Hey, Lady Liberty.

2009-10-27T09:43:00.001-07:00

Rearrange my alibi of the day

and you're one letter short of "c-a-t-a-s-t-r-o-p-h-i-c".

don't touch, i

bite.

2009-10-26T03:40:00.000-07:00

...and I'm feeling reeeaal festive.

3oh!3 knew what they were on about.

2009-10-22T06:36:00.000-07:00

WE JUST DID AN AWESOME JOB OF NOT DYING"

- John Green, Let It Snow: 3 Holiday Stories

-------------

So the wave has crashed, and we're all starfished on the beach.

We have learnt that there is no restful lull after the plunge.

We have been holding our breath since the start of this year, and we have found out that we'll have to hold it till the end of next year. And then there will be a deep breath, and then it shall be straaaight on to Uni-- second star to the right, and study straight on till morning!

No exhaling. Just keep breathing.

We all watched Enchanted for GP today.

It was amazing. There's just something about Disney that makes you want to believe in pixiedust, and magic, and Christmas.

Like Lisa said-- it was just...feel-good. You can't watch it and NOT smile. Elderly men with yellow flowers for their elderly sweethearts. And mass singing in the park. And pastel tulle skirts made of curtains. And-- of course-- happily ever after.

It makes me a little sad, though.

It's been a while since I've believed in that.

I'd like to. I really would. But somehow something always stops me somewhere before I reach the middle and says...no.

It was nice, though. Laughing over Amrit's shoulder at the Evil Queen (Amrit: "...I love that biatch!") and feeling a little bittersweet looking over at Lisa, and all three of us smiling fondly at Ily; who was just completely oblivious and had her darling little chin propped up on one hand and was watching the screen, absolutely enraptured, with her mouth half open.

I may not believe in happily ever after but I do believe in happy.

My little sister's having her birthday party atm, so the house is currently overrun by hyperactive little girls who are truly to be feared. I have never heard such blatant misuse of the words "totally" and "emigash".

Josh- you're free to come over for dinner, if you want. ;)

...I kid. And now you're going to ask me to take this off my blog because I KNOW YOU, PADAWAN.

And no, they won't stah stah you for this.

Please don't ask me to take ^that off too.

You're safe and we love you; and as Top Geog Student you have Immunity.

Spent Free Period (...okay, in our defense, we THOUGHT it was free period. Honest. ): ) in Bytz with Ren Jean.

It's been a while, PaperPlane! You so Nerdalicious, it's like the Geeks Get The Girls. I'll get a Tattoo if you come with me on the Grey Escape.

Quoted from her blog [with her comments in bracketz] :

" P-R-T-T-Y

Haven’t spent time with The Neo in a while.

And here’s the ditzy I’ve been missing.

Cara: *Signs into Gmail in Bytes*

*Turns to say something to me*

-20 seconds later-

*Looks back at screen*

*panic*

HEY WHY’S MY ACCOUNT SIGNED ON?!?!

…ohyea. I signed on.

(No, people don’t stalk you to that extent. Or maybe they do. coughEr,I’mJoecough)

Cara: *In a fit of anger* Nyyeeeehhhhhhhhhh!

(Elvish for……I’m a princess?)

Yea I know, my blog misses your quotes too :)"

...Okay, for one...no. Joe doesn't stalk me. Because they don't have computers/technology/electricity where he lives.

And for two-- I'm not a ditzy, dammit.

I'm an ELVISH PRINCESS.

PW has been tiring, to say the least.

Many sessions in school and Coffee Bean spent editing our WR. Many bloodshot eyes. Much tiredness. Many typos.

Cases in question...

Wenjia: *types out, while Cara dictates verbally* "...It is the responsibility of China's MOE to provoid..."

Cara: *peeks over shoulder*

*points*

...It's spelt "provide", darling. I know my pronounciation's weird as, but still.

And Xuyang was so tired that he spelt "Mr Menon" as "Mt Menon".

Fortunately we spotted that- else a certain somebody might be facing suspiciously raised NAPFA standards, next year.

...argh LITTLE GIRLS HAVE INVADED MY ROOOOOMMMM.

And they've brought in the puppy and a veritable Kilimanjaro of fluffy sleeping bags and they're gossiping about boiz, oh Lawd, why're they gossiping about boiz no more importantly why is my SISTER gossiping about boiz didn't she just graduate from diapers??

Okay, must go now.

Time to defend the Motherland.

2009-10-14T06:53:00.000-07:00

Y'know- I've decided I'm just gonna take tomorrow as it comes.

LIKE A STORM, IT TOO WILL PASS-- and I so have a Plan To Cheer Myself Up After.
It involves aquamarine dresses and Irish music and downtown and general spenditure.
I should probably get a job.

We started normal lessons today, again.
And I quote one of the teachers during one of the lectures today: "...I know some of you are in holiday mode. I know it. You thought everything was going to be over after Promos, right???" (at which point I think, "...well, um. actually, yes") and she goes "...But no! NO!" and gets this queer glint in her eye.
Kinda like the part in an episode of Kim Possible where Drakken laughs maniacally and reveals his Master Plan For World Domination; only this master plan can be solved with a GC and involves complex mathematical formulas.
Oh well. All in the name of Prepping For J2.

Catching up with the DWLs was great today, though.
Josh- at least now you know that if your career in psychology doesn't work out; you could always look into joining Whose Line Is It Anyway.
Suffered through the usual white man jokes and teased Lisa about BODY SHOP oh hello, multi-tasker.

I quote from Lisa's xanga:
"But it was good to see the DWL (ie Amrit, Cara, Ily, Joan, and Josh) again. Have missed lunches as a group. Funny stories about wisdom teeth and the Cara Fan Club.

(snicker)"

...Uh, HAI LISA; am not the one who had a love confession from some sekrit admirer tacked up on the NJC wall kthx. Norrrrr does my boyfriend use moisturizer. You know what I mean-- and-- yes, I went there. Whatcha gonna do- whack me upside the head with one of his golf clubs?

You should also know that I derive great pleasure from knowing that you can't respond to this over here cuz I've no longer got a tagboard; so SCORE ZERO! to the little people.

Everything else aside; I've been enjoying the pseudo-freedom I've had lately.
It's nice to have the first line of a new song run through your head; and be able to go home and record it and plan out pretty words, without having to feel guilty about neglecting Econs Case Study 563 or whatever. It's nice to be able to borrow The Odyssey and The Silmarillion, and be able to read them. It's nice to be able to head to the pool after school and take a dip and spend an hour after just basking in the sun and not doing much of anything else at all.

...Okay, now.

PW calls, and I've just realized how incredibly tired I am.

God; give me strength to weather tomorrow.

Antianara; be my inspiration and help me stay stoic.

Self; know that better things're a-comin'.

Till next time, y'all.

[/edit]

Has finished doing PW, and is now: MSNing with Millie Moo Mar Mae, who rules the world. (Joe's little sister)

We're cool like that.

2009-10-12T07:20:00.006-07:00

"When you've understood this scripture, throw it away.

If you can't understand this scripture, throw it away.

I insist on your freedom."

- Jack Kerouac (The Scripture of the Golden Eternity)

----

Today the world rolled out of bed, decided it'd had enough of spamming N.K with nukes and mocking Ris Low for the week, and decided to make it Hey, Let's Make Cara's Life A Living Misery! Day.

I don't usually speak in absolutes but almost everything about today was cloudy; almost everything.

Waking up, mornings, words, pictures-that-never-were, voices, legs outside libraries, ominousity...everything. I know I sound like a little coked up whiny emo kid and maybe I am but maybe what I'm feeling is real because I don't feel like this very often. Believe it or not behind the moody fringe is actually a very optimistic person who actually loves life a fair bit.

Today she kind of got trampled on, though.

...And...how could I be so stupid.

Now they'll see and c'mon Cara, who're you kidding, nobody buys your little excerpts about gates and rusty bars and antiseptic any more. You've got to kick this new-old habit before it comes back and takes you the way it did before.

Lately I've been thinking about big things, too; Big things, Scary things, Future things.

Like how I set too-high standards for everything and how the world I want only exists in black and white, and in this world of 40, 075.02KM polaroid film it doesn't work that way.

I don't want to marry if this is what it's like. I don't want to settle for the box if they're what it's like. I don't want to live past thirty/forty/whichever age the mental decreptitude, the weariness in the soul takes you because I overhear him telling Daddy how he's gotten tired, so tired, and how he's thankful for what he's been given but sometimes he just looks to the sky and asks God, why won't you take me? I am exhausted...

I don't want any of it.

But there's years to go before then, and hope to have, and smiles to keep. I need to start drinking more coffee and stop with the mental medication.

I have people to be thankful for.

I have a voice of warm gravel to turn to- unlawfully familiar despite the 7000mile crevice; his voice and his strength and the Tomorrow flame he ignites when he speaks. I have a laughable January, and an indelible summer, and a Christmas that promises immortality.

And I have good friends. True friends. Friends who would push strangers out of their cars at 3AM in the morning and drive like fiends to get to me if I needed them, even though they're a few months short of 18 and can't tell a car brake from a windshield wiper.

Friends hanging from a cliff with one finger clinging to the Cross; who would let go so they could stretch out that hand to point God in my direction.

So life can't be all that bad, right?

Right.

Chin high, little girl- stand up and fight.

2009-10-12T07:20:00.005-07:00

"When you've understood this scripture, throw it away.

If you can't understand this scripture, throw it away.

I insist on your freedom."

- Jack Kerouac (The Scripture of the Golden Eternity)

----

Today the world rolled out of bed, decided it'd had enough of spamming N.K with nukes and mocking Ris Low for the week, and decided to make it Hey, Let's Make Cara's Life A Living Misery! Day.

I don't usually speak in absolutes but almost everything about today was cloudy; almost everything.

Today she kind of got trampled on, though.

...And...how could I be so stupid.

Lately I've been thinking about big things, too; Big things, Scary things, Future things.

Like how I set too-high standards for everything and how the world I want only exists in black and white, and in this world of 40, 075.02KM polaroid film it doesn't work that way.

I don't want any of it.

But there's years to go before then, and hope to have, and smiles to keep. I need to start drinking more coffee and stop with the mental medication.

I have people to be thankful for.

Friends hanging from a cliff with one finger clinging to the Cross; who would let go so they could stretch out that hand to point God in my direction.

So life can't be all that bad, right?

Right.

Chin high, little girl- stand up and fight.

2009-10-12T07:20:00.004-07:00

"When you've understood this scripture, throw it away.

If you can't understand this scripture, throw it away.

I insist on your freedom."

- Jack Kerouac (The Scripture of the Golden Eternity)

----

Today the world rolled out of bed, decided it'd had enough of spamming N.K with nukes and mocking Ris Low for the week, and decided to make it Hey, Let's Make Cara's Life A Living Misery! Day.

I don't usually speak in absolutes but almost everything about today was cloudy; almost everything.

Today she kind of got trampled on, though.

...And...how could I be so stupid.

Lately I've been thinking about big things, too; Big things, Scary things, Future things.

Like how I set too-high standards for everything and how the world I want only exists in black and white, and in this world of 40, 075.02KM polaroid film it doesn't work that way.

I don't want any of it.

But there's years to go before then, and hope to have, and smiles to keep. I need to start drinking more coffee and stop with the mental medication.

I have people to be thankful for.

Friends hanging from a cliff with one finger clinging to the Cross; who would let go so they could stretch out that hand to point God in my direction.

So life can't be all that bad, right?

Right.

Chin high, little girl- stand up and fight.

2009-10-12T07:20:00.003-07:00

"When you've understood this scripture, throw it away.

If you can't understand this scripture, throw it away.

I insist on your freedom."

- Jack Kerouac (The Scripture of the Golden Eternity)

----

Today the world rolled out of bed, decided it'd had enough of spamming N.K with nukes and mocking Ris Low for the week, and decided to make it Hey, Let's Make Cara's Life A Living Misery! Day.

I don't usually speak in absolutes but almost everything about today was cloudy; almost everything.

Today she kind of got trampled on, though.

...And...how could I be so stupid.

Lately I've been thinking about big things, too; Big things, Scary things, Future things.

Like how I set too-high standards for everything and how the world I want only exists in black and white, and in this world of 40, 075.02KM polaroid film it doesn't work that way.

I don't want any of it.

But there's years to go before then, and hope to have, and smiles to keep. I need to start drinking more coffee and stop with the mental medication.

I have people to be thankful for.

Friends hanging from a cliff with one finger clinging to the Cross; who would let go so they could stretch out that hand to point God in my direction.

So life can't be all that bad, right?

Right.

Chin high, little girl- stand up and fight.

2009-10-12T07:20:00.002-07:00

"When you've understood this scripture, throw it away.

If you can't understand this scripture, throw it away.

I insist on your freedom."

- Jack Kerouac (The Scripture of the Golden Eternity)

----

Today the world rolled out of bed, decided it'd had enough of spamming N.K with nukes and mocking Ris Low for the week, and decided to make it Hey, Let's Make Cara's Life A Living Misery! Day.

I don't usually speak in absolutes but almost everything about today was cloudy; almost everything.

Today she kind of got trampled on, though.

...And...how could I be so stupid.

Lately I've been thinking about big things, too; Big things, Scary things, Future things.

Like how I set too-high standards for everything and how the world I want only exists in black and white, and in this world of 40, 075.02KM polaroid film it doesn't work that way.

I don't want any of it.

But there's years to go before then, and hope to have, and smiles to keep. I need to start drinking more coffee and stop with the mental medication.

I have people to be thankful for.

Friends hanging from a cliff with one finger clinging to the Cross; who would let go so they could stretch out that hand to point God in my direction.

So life can't be all that bad, right?

Right.

Chin high, little girl- stand up and fight.

2009-10-12T07:20:00.001-07:00

"When you've understood this scripture, throw it away.

If you can't understand this scripture, throw it away.

I insist on your freedom."

- Jack Kerouac (The Scripture of the Golden Eternity)

----

Today the world rolled out of bed, decided it'd had enough of spamming N.K with nukes and mocking Ris Low for the week, and decided to make it Hey, Let's Make Cara's Life A Living Misery! Day.

I don't usually speak in absolutes but almost everything about today was cloudy; almost everything.

Today she kind of got trampled on, though.

...And...how could I be so stupid.

Lately I've been thinking about big things, too; Big things, Scary things, Future things.

Like how I set too-high standards for everything and how the world I want only exists in black and white, and in this world of 40, 075.02KM polaroid film it doesn't work that way.

I don't want any of it.

But there's years to go before then, and hope to have, and smiles to keep. I need to start drinking more coffee and stop with the mental medication.

I have people to be thankful for.

Friends hanging from a cliff with one finger clinging to the Cross; who would let go so they could stretch out that hand to point God in my direction.

So life can't be all that bad, right?

Right.

Chin high, little girl- stand up and fight.

2009-10-12T07:12:00.004-07:00

2009-10-12T07:12:00.003-07:00

2009-10-12T07:12:00.002-07:00

2009-10-12T07:12:00.001-07:00

2009-10-12T07:12:00.000-07:00

2009-10-11T09:59:00.000-07:00

Clark Kent,

stop being such a hypokryptonite.

Save people. Not shatter them.

L.L.

2009-10-08T01:38:00.000-07:00

song for a friend

I.

Hello stranger on the street
Theatre lights for eyes
I promise I’ll be more discreet
If you share your disguise

Cuz I know from your face
You can’t breathe inside this place
Where the streets are made of stone
And everyone’s always alone

And the buildings, they grow high
But they’re blocking out the sky
At a recordbreaking pace
Always more land; never more space

II.

Hello stranger on the train
Stop: New PostModern Age
We’ll take the journey in the rain
To some forgotten stage

Because the stageboards and the flies
Do not qualify as lies
And the stories that we tell
Are not deceptions that we sell

And what is brave and what is true
And what is reckless
We will broadcast in our makeshift Broadway cabaret for two.

III, V.

…Hello; stranger on the street
Theatrical surprise
You’ll Tinseltown your dancing feet
I’ll Hollywood my eyes…

-finito-

2009-10-05T09:10:00.000-07:00

Monday, for once, is an almost-ending.

History today was...well. I don't know what it was, really. It could either go okay, or it could go really really badly. I'm not saying anything right now- I'm just glad it's over. Earlier today and yesterday were possibly the worst ever days of my study career. Eight hours of frantic studying, blinking tired eyes into tired hands, sinking down over words I couldn't absorb and all the while the insistent white panic. Calling up friends for comfort and trailing off as their words morphed and garbled over the phone and I realized: oh God I'm in this alone/ have to survive this alone.

So I'm alive.

...and, in retrospect; melodramatic. Very melodramatic. But moving on.

History was three hours of trying to formulate a decent argument, realizing mid-way, "...damn. I have no idea what I'm writing" and then glancing at the clock, seeing I've got about ten minutes left to write 2 decent body paragraphs and a conclusion and going "DAMN NEVER MIND JUST WRITE"

After the paper, Ms Oon made the formal announcement, "Who wants to do H3 for History, please come to the front" and I turned behind to Amrit and she waved her curls around and went "...the f-ck they give me 3 hours of THAT and then ask me to do H3?! UM NO"

Am now doing lit.

Okay technically I am talking to Joe but I am ALSO doing lit, ah crud, polysyndeton juxtaposition onomatopoeia stream of consciousness threnody verisimilitude.

I rummaged through one of my brother's cupboards today and found an entire rummagey pile of clothes I'd forgotten I had/clothes that didn't belong to me. I chased my brother out, called my sister in, and we spent about an hour trying on everything and mixing and matching. I love going through psuedo-junk. I found teacosy-esque drapes and a vest that looked like a carpet and corset tops and flowy tunics and leotards and general awesomeness.

YAY ME

Okay now Lit.

Fame! with the DWL tomorrow. UNPRECEDENTED, ALL MEMBERS PRESENT OUTING.

"Hey DWL! Hope you've had a good day and are studying lit  harder than I am, cuz I haven't touched it at all yet today. ):

Anyway. Not the point. The point issss I'm here to remind  y'all of our outing to watch Fame! tomorrow. Please bring non-nj clothes that are not red fbt shorts and/or team nj yes Lisa this means YOU. 

In case y'all haven't realized, this will be our first ever outing together with ALL of us present. 

Groundbreaking. 

Yes and on this note, I will personally kill anyone who shows up tmr in wrong attire/does not show up at all cuz they're sick/tired/mugging in preparation for next year. 

...That's all. :D Love you. 

xxx"

Hurrah.

Stay strong, compadres.

And Lisa, sweetheart- hang in there. We're here to catch you.

That's what 4AM friends do.

2009-10-04T05:59:00.000-07:00

...We WILL get through this, dammit.

2009-10-03T00:34:00.000-07:00

"She swears that there's no difference,
Between the lies and compliments;
It's all the same if everybody leaves her."
- Jon Mclaughlin, Beautiful Disaster.
---

My brother turned twelve today.
Happy birthday, fuzzy.
He says he doesn't FEEL twelve. I told him it's always that way. I'm seventeen but I think I left myself somewhere back at fourteen...

This morning I woke up with bedroom eyes, the way I always do when I've cried the night before. When Mum and Daddy saw me this morning, they went up in arms demanding to know who'd made me cry.
Which is weird, because I don't remember doing anything of the sort.
I think I just need sleep.

Went for kickboxing, and then grocery shopping, and then lugged about ten tonnes of fruit out to try and hail a cab. Could've reaally used a lift from the Popemobile (hahahah) then.
And, yeah. The vehicle that the Pope drives? ...it's actually got a name. And it's actually called the Popemobile. Carol and I were laughing about it yesterday.
"So first we'll have the epic, dramatic, theatrical Batman trailer; and Batman'll voom out onto the scene in his Batmobile.
...And then, cue Pope. Putputting out of the garage in his...Popemobile."

Couldn't they have given it a slightly edgier, Vested With Divine Power-ey name?
Like, idk. Lamb-ofGod-borghini. Chariot of Fire. Something.

Am now listening to Emmy Rossum, while typing out SEA History notes.
It's so easy for me to lose myself in this music. If I was a singer, I'd like to make songs like this one.
The only song I've heard that has the words "I need you", and that I still love despite that.

The weather's beautiful, outside- chilly, and grey, and hushed; and everything is still; and I have wonderful friends, and a wonderful life, and for once my thoughts don't feel like they've got to reach Mars.

I think I am at peace with myself.

Three more days, and then we'll raise the freedom cry.

2009-10-01T22:26:00.000-07:00

...Because I spent half an hour rooting around on Youtube for this.
(click below.)

We all look like we feel.

All credits go to Georgia.

Love ya, Scouser.

...Miss ya, Summer.

2009-09-29T07:17:00.000-07:00

...Unless aforementioned "it" happens to be

a) SEA Lecture 2

b) International History

c) AP/GP tutorial

d) Market Failure,

in which case you should probably go back and revise over. and over. and over. and over.

And once more just for measure.

I've got Lecture 5: Impact of WW2 and JO on SEAsian Nationalist Movements on Microsoft Word, in the background. Have resorted to using hot pink font, and smileyfaces whenever the Thakins received political concessions- in a desperate, last-ditch attempt to Engage Myself In Learning.

So not working.

On the bright side:
This time, next week...we'll be free.
Completely, irrevocably, utterly, undisputably FREE.
...Okay 'cept maybe for PW. Because after all we ARE Singaporean students and to us, freedom is having to do only one hour of schoolwork every day.
But that doesn't matter!!!
Because PW, ...and ongoing lessons, ...and Higher Chinese exams, ...and Promo consolidation, ...and...*slumps*...early preparation... for next year... aside--

Ohyouknowwhatnevermind.

Les Sirenes Fatale. says:
Am stressing over SEA Historeeeeee.
Stupid Asians. Rebelled so damn many times. How the hell'm I supposed to remember all this?
Lisa says:
HAHAHA
GIVE THE REBELLIONS NAMES
Les Sirenes Fatale. says:
They HAAAVE names
Lisa says:
...rename them!
Like, THE REBELLION OF THE RICE-FARMING PEASANTS
Les Sirenes Fatale. says:
The Rebellion Of Rice Farming Peasants #...102578...

OKAY IRREGARDLESS. I CAN DO THIS.

2 more hours studying and then it'll be time to pick up the phone and ring up Britain.

Les Sirenes Fatale. says:
We'll call our newspaper The Daily BOOMZ.
Ren Jean says:
HAHA
you write the fashion column, "How to wear rad bigini zipbra preens"

Hang in there, DWL, hang in there, Fourckers, hang in there, NJC, hang in there, Singapore!!

We don't go to school from 7 to 7 every day for NOTHING, dammit.

SHOW yourself something for it.

2009-09-26T07:52:00.001-07:00

the fourckers bite back

2009-09-24T08:23:00.000-07:00

Tonight I wandered into my parents' room like I used to do when I was five.

Big problems; heavy problems; heart problems. Sometimes I hate the way I tend to rationalize

what happened to my bright-eyed idealism?

Laid my head on Daddy's lap and flopped over in the duvets and stared vacantly at nothing in particular.

Then at the back of the massage chair.

Then at the dull grey picture they painted me- a modern Van Gogh, post Ear Incident. Remember the time he ran out of colours and used rainwater instead? yeah that's the one.

Stared into it for the longest time but I couldn't find stars and I couldn't find Vincent.

I didn't hug the big bear

and my eyes stayed dry.

I'm getting good at this Being Seventeen business.

You/It/They will always make me trace little question marks in the margins of library books but I find consolation in the fact that once these days are over

I will be happy enough to make myself forget. Even just for a while.

Once these days are over

there will be magic. and chaos. and glitter. and madness. and exhilaration. and stories.

Once these days are over

I'll laugh and show you I mean it.

2009-09-22T07:56:00.000-07:00

the lights are much brighter there
you can forget all your troubles,
forget all your cares

and go
downtown,
where all the lights are bright,

downtown,
waiting for you tonight

downtown,

...you're gonna be all right now.

2009-09-21T10:16:00.000-07:00

Conversation between Joe, Ross, and I.
Experiment In Wholly German #1.

Ready, on 3.

The Anti-Hero says:

I said...

"Ja!"

'Rossssssss; says:

NEIN

The Anti-Hero says:

JA!

'Rossssssss; says:

NEIN

Les Sirenes Fatale. says:

...BITTE?!?!?!?!

The Anti-Hero says:

JA!

'Rossssssss; says:

ja, ja, ja ;)

The Anti-Hero says:

....der velungsitiche!?

Les Sirenes Fatale. says:

...Ja ho!!

The Anti-Hero says:

...nein.

2009-09-20T10:15:00.001-07:00

The Soldier

If I should die, think only this of me:

That there's some corner of a foreign field

That is forever England. There shall be

In that rich earth a richer dust concealed;

A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware,

Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam,

A body of England's, breathing English air,

Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home.

And think, this heart, all evil shed away,

A pulse in the eternal mind, no less

Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given;

Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day;

And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness,

In hearts at peace, under an English heaven.

2009-09-20T10:14:00.001-07:00

YES OKAY LIT POETRY ANALYSIS ANNOTATION = DONE.
1.16am. Woohoo.

Siegfried Sassoon's "The Kiss" + Wilfred Owen's "Arms and the Boy" + Rupert Brooke's "The Soldier" slipped between the pages of my diary + Dad watching movie on Marines in Iraq + a certain somebody = omg war overdrive much.

My head's swimming with soldier stuff.

K now sleep.

2009-09-18T07:11:00.000-07:00

~~TGIF~~.

OGIF. --> Oh God It's Friday.

Everyone agrees that today feels NOTHING like a Friday. But on the bright side, it thundered this afternoon, which painted everything in a very pretty, very watercolour shade of grey, and it's been lovely and cold ever since; but my appetite has come back a little so I'm a little warmer.

I get my serotonins from dark chocolate.
...Because I'm dependent like that.
I've become an absolute caffeine addict, I swear. Tea and coffee (black, duh. "...Noxious!!" Lisa cries) in the morning, green tea/black coffee again after lunch, and iced coffee as black as I can make it, (read: three heaping tablespoons) in a massive tumbler the length of my forearm, at 10.30PM to tide me through the Long Dreary Hours.

Funnily enough, I can cope with almost anything, as long as it's raining.
Throw me five essay questions and I'll lock myself in my room with my legs bundled up in a blanket and Joe's jacket draped around me like an oversized stole and Incubus crooning through the speakers and a piping cup of tea and very happily study through the night.
It's the sun and the heat and the wetness that I can't stand.

...Oh God, this post is so inconsequential.

Anyway.
Daddy was driving me back home from my appointment at the running clinic today, and we passed by a church. For anonymity's sake, we'll call it FLATF (Five Loaves And Two Fish. ...Don't know what I'm talking about? Time to get reacquainted with the Jesus book.) Church. And outside, they've hung all these banners with pictures of people high jumping in the air and hi-fiving each other, and each big banner has slogans like "NO BOUNDARIES" and "FIND THE RIGHT PATH TODAY" etc. Which, excepting the fact that it kind of makes the place look like a University Open House, is perfectly fine.

But then there was this even bigger banner proclaiming the syllabus for that church's sermons. So I looked at it as we drove past, and it read:
"- YOU ARE THE WINNER
- LIVE LIFE HAPPY
- INFLUENCE OTHERS WITH YOUR LIFE
- COME AND BE BLESSED
- DISCOVER THE BEST FOR YOU
-...etc."

Which sounds great, on the surface.
But then I thought about it, and realized that there hadn't been much of Jesus in there at all. It sounded more Self Help Section than anything else, IMHO.

"COME AND LEARN HOW TO WIN, BE HAPPY, BE INFLUENTIAL, AND DISCOVER THE BEST FOR YOU! YOU YOU YOU!"

I don't often blog about Christianity/religion in general, because I see a lot of things in a lot of shades of grey and sometimes I get the feeling that my standards of morality and general philosophy- while wellmeaning- probably aren't in precise tandem with the Orthodox Church.
But for me to raise up an issue with this...mhm.

Because I know that's not what Christianity's about.

FLATF seems to be advertising Christianity as some kind of...idk, lifestyle product. Viagra for the soul. HydroxyTrim for the spirit. Something.
But it's not that way. It's not like you become a Christian, and then instantly have coins falling from the sky and good fat things magically appearing on the table and your way becoming entirely smooth. Some of the best Christian men and women I know have suffered way beyond what they seem to deserve. My godma's a missionary and she contracted tuberculosis from working in the missionfield, with children in Cambodia. She's one of the best, most faithful Christians I've had the privilege of knowing- and she's also sick, wasting away physically, and poor as a church mouse.
Does she care?
No.
The grace I see shining from inside her makes me believe that there MUST be a God- MUST be someone great and omnipotent and worthy enough to have this beautiful, wonderful woman put so much faith in him. Every difficult breath she draws is a victory in His name. Every sacrifice she makes, she claims land in the name of the Lord.

So I guess Christianity's not all about the Me/You/Selfish MineMineMine.
If there's one thing I've learnt from being brought up around the people I've known, it's that Christianity isn't some miracle product that makes life all rainbows and unicorns.
On the contrary.
There's a verse in Acts that goes "...I will show him how much he must suffer for my name." and that's what Christianity's about. Putting aside your own wants, and taking up the cross, and dying to yourself in order to live for Him.
It sounds scary, I know, but there's another verse I've always loved that goes,

"...For me to live is Christ; and to die is gain."

Which I guess sums it up.

...So yeah.
I am all for colourful banners and attractive slogans and everything; but one thing I have to say to FLATF Church is...stop marketing Christianity as something it's not.
Maybe you find Christian suffering an ugly truth, so you try to paint it over to draw in the crowds. And yeah, it might draw them in. Everyone wants to learn how to be happy, influential, blessed, and making big bucks.
But what God're you leading them in to worship? A jackpot machine?
You know it doesn't work that way.

So maybe the truth's a little gritty.
But it's real. And yeah it comes with its share of pain but what it is is tender and true and genuine at the heart of it all.

They don't need a self-help book with a book signing session at Borders from 9-11 every Sunday.
They need the one Book whose truth will always stay, and the author they have to meet is the great guy in the sky who breathed the living words that went into it.

Am no Bible-toting, Scripture-spouting Jesus person; but. My two cents' worth.

2009-09-16T21:11:00.000-07:00

I was going to print out the picture above and laminate it and give it to each member of the DWL; but in typical NJ fashion, Integration Tutorials got in the way.

So here it is.

I know it's already on Lisa's blog-- but think of it as...a clarion call in return. The lighting of the cyber beacons.

From you to me, and me back.

I love you guys.

...So. I'm tired.

I know everyone is.

Seventeen and speeding towards the road sign that reads "Burn Out", oh!

On the bright side--> Fourteen more days!

And on the not-so-bright side --> ...Fourteen more days.

The week's coming to a close, and I think my mind's going into lockdown mode because it's getting harder and harder to absorb anything. Thank God for antidrugs like running. I used to not really like running at home; but now almost every evening I get on, plug in, tune out, and run through dinner.

Now I think I know what Lisa means by just...drifting. And not caring Food can wait. At least till after we get through this.

Thank God for small mercies.

Like...good friendships, and loud humour, and morning texts, and music (though I swear- my sister's iPod, which I have recently usurped, is starting to corrupt on me. It won't play some songs, now, but when I first got it it was working PERFECTLY. Technology h8s me why why why this is the third iPod I've succeeded in screwing over!!) and morning texts and leatherbound pages.

Okay I know this hasn't been the happiest sounding of posts-- but it's my cyber journal and I can be morose if I want.

Am looking through old pictures right now and there're words on one of them that make me happy, for some reason.

"He liked art, very much,

And sometimes his voice sounded like a painting."

...I like that. A lot.

And now off to face the day.

Chin up, everyone!

Better times're a-comin'.

2009-09-16T10:32:00.000-07:00

2009-09-15T09:36:00.000-07:00

Whitby, on Oedipus:

"His parents had to get rid of him. So what was the best way?

Send him to some far off, distant land; and hope he meets Racism."

---

12: 17 AM and I am determined to end the day/start a new one? productively.

Am too tired to log in a coherent blogpost.

I will soon, I promise.

The Anti-Hero says: (11:35:41 PM)

Right from IGGY, ... and then I told them about Christmas, and got interrogated muchly about that, amongst lots of "awww's" and "that's so sweet!"

As well as the inevitable...

Person A: "Where IS Singapore?"

Person B: "It's in China, isn't it?"

Person C: "No, it's in Thailand!"

Joe: *sigh*

...Yes.

Singapore's in China, and Hokkien's a religion, and we all worship Jackie Chan.

Am tired.

Two weeks.

~~Too weak?~~

...Two weeks.

2009-09-12T07:34:00.000-07:00

Today has been...productive-ish.

I say "ish" because I know I've probably done nothing compared to 99.9999% of the NJC population, who have probably made full use of their Saturday to finish up the Math revision package, finish all of Integration, Differential Equations, read through the entire GP package, and a third of next year's syllabus.

But I have, in little ways, been productive enough to let me go to sleep with a peaceful conscience tonight.

And hopefully dream sweet dreams.

I had a weird dream last night involving Joe, Ross, my Dad coming home, and a window and my house. :/ Problem is- I don't remember WHAT it was about, zackly. I think I woke up at 4.23AM from my dream and then in my sleep stupor went, "...oh. Must tell Joe about this dream. So must make note to remember." and then I typed in a note into my Blackberry so I'd remember.

But me being half asleep and not being able to jab the keys properly, and it being dark and generally Ungodly Hourish, when I opened the note later this afternoon, it read something like

"joe my house dad comes home! ross like rico- think hannah montana. dsidkdase

small and hyper. run away23oiu"

...Ohh yeah.

And that totally brings back everything for me.

On another note; I was on the bus today, when I heard someone talking very loudly behind me and I glanced over and it was this man in a red bandana and sandals and socks talking to himself.

At first I thought he was using one of those Blackberry handset thingies that always make people look like they're talking to themselves anyway; but then I realized that- no; he actually WAS talking to himself.

It was a little unnerving at first, and I tried not to stare, but then I got used to it after a little while. Mum said he was probably schizophrenic. And everyone else was staring at him with shifty glances that made me feel sorry for him.

I mean- it's not his fault.

And I don't think there's anything TOO weird about what he was doing, though. Right?

I mean- we all have conversations with ourselves. Some people just hold those conversations outside of their heads, s'all.

Another update from the homefront:

...My brother has started reading the Twilight series and at dinner he was all, "Oh yeah I love Edward and Bella! Cara dyou have Eclipse and New Moon and Breaking Dawn?" and I'm like :O NOO.

...He's been sucked into the Meyer cult!

Today, Innocence died a little.

But faux vampires and damned Robby Patty aside; ...today's been nice.

Went for my aromatherapy facial and hahaha I couldn't help laughing a little (but in a nice way) when I remembered Mum going to this other facial place this one time and the lady being unable to pronounce her words.

"So, today we do H Much facial, okay?"

"...H Much?"

"Yes, yes. H Much facial."

"...Sorry-- H Much? What's H Much--"

"*agitated* -- H Much!! You do H Much!!!"

...She meant the Age Match facial.

And at Subway...:

Sandwich Person: "Allo. You want sick in or foolong?"

Cara: o_O

Pidgin-Singaporean-To-English Translation: "Hello. You want six inch or footlong?"

Whiiiich is like the time I was twelve, and still in APS Swim Club, and I was swimming laps and on the verge of breaking into tears because my coach from China was pacing by the pool and screaming at me, "...CHEENTUKKIN! CHEENTUKKIN!!!"

and I didn't know what the HELL this "cheentukkin" was about and all the while I was trying to check my strokes/kick harder/swim faster/breathe less? in an effort to hit the nail and still he kept bawling "...CHEENTUKKIN! I WANT YOUR CHEENTUKKIN!!!"

It was only later that I found out that he'd been trying to tell me to tuck my chin in.

...Well; then why didn't you just say so?

Okay, enough digressing, Cara.

Y u tok so much about Engrish? You have Integration to finish up.

Night, y'all.

xxx

2009-09-11T08:01:00.000-07:00

"Don't you think it's better to be extremely happy for a short while, even if you lose it, than to be just okay for your whole life?"

- The Time Traveller's Wife

----

Went to town and watched The Time Traveller's Wife this evening with Wenloong.

In the middle of the movie, people started sobbing at the front of the cinema.
I didn't cry. (cue for Wenloong to go: "...What?! You didn't cry? What're you- some cold hard bitch?!")

I liked the movie, a lot, but it made me think strange and far-off thoughts that made me feel funny inside.

"I go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. I take walks, I work until I'm tired.
I watch the wind play with the trash that's been under the snow all winter.
Everything seems simple until you think about it.
Why is love intensified by absence? "

I enjoyed the show, though. I think I just love theatres and cinemas in general. There's just something about all that darkness, and soft seats, and lush faux velvet, and the smell of seven dollar popcorn.

Walked over to Wheelock with Wenloong after the show ended, and attempted to film our own talkshow. EPIC. FAIL. I don't want to talk about it. Spent the rest of the time browsing between shelves and misquoting movie references at each other and generally being stupid.

WL: "Oh, wow. 7:35 already? Time flies."
Both: *glance at each other*
Both, in uncanny unison: ...No...time travels!

Cara: *heavy sigh* I'm doing Gorbachev tonight.
WL (non-History kid): o_O What? You're doing who?
Cara: *distractedly* ...Gorbachev. Uh...white man.
WL: O_O

WL: What would you say to me........having a career...in singing??
Cara: Hm. I think. You should be a singer in a rap video.
WL: But rappers don't sing.
Cara: Zackly.

...Thanks for a nice evening, Woondeh Warhol.
We're not so different, you and I.

And now- Gorbachev calls.
And then time to talk with the timetraveller himself.

I want her to eat again, and I want him to be here again, and I want them to learn how to breathe again.

Curl up.
I'd like to curl up and sleep till November.

2009-09-06T03:41:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting here with a hot frothy cup of mocha and listening to Andy William's Autumn Leaves.

If there's one song that reminds me and will always remind me of my grandpa- it's this one.
His voice: rich, golden, baritone. Whenever he sings this song, I close my eyes and feel myself bathed in the era-glow of tophats and jukeboxes on streetcorners and beautiful people on beautiful avenues.
As much as I love him and want him to stay, I know that one day he'll have to go, and when that time comes- this is the song I will listen to whenever I miss him. Which will be a lot.

Today I went to town for the first time in over a month.
I haven't been out to Orchard since coming back from IGGY, and I was getting half-anxious that maybe I'd just lost the desire to shop.
Today was clarification: it's still there.
I went out to get powder and Mummy's birthday present.
Ended up getting foundation, a biker jacket, and two tops I'll probably never wear.
Hey- it's not my fault there wasn't anything for Mum there.

Church was fun, too.
I hadn't seen everyone in- what, a month? More?
Lounged around in Heartfriends after service and discussed what names we all look like.
Apparently I look like a Sasha/Antoinette/Giselle. Deb's a Silver. Manda's an Audrey Marie. Conan is...Conan.
Moses is Hong Kiet hahah.

Aaron: What about me what about me?
Manda: You look like a.....Ronald.
Aaron: *mortification*

...Am now typing out notes on Gorby. Glasnost, perestroika, ho.
Oh, and.
I am so gonna fail Lit. My Engrish ees getting badder.

Cara: (in class) ... Ah well. It's not going to make any much difference.
Cara: *realizes*
Cara: Oh no! My English is degrading!
Cara: *realizes*
Cara: *wail*

...I'm sorry, Whitby.
Speaking of Whitby. The DWL gave him his WhitBritLit pack the other day. I hauled everyone out of their seats and we all marched up to the front of the class, upon which Lisa and Amrit handed him the Pack, and I pulled out the Union Jack card with a flourish.
Cue for Whitby to turn a beautiful shade of fuschia-pink, which he always does when he's agitated/excited/maaad/embarrassed/very happy/but I think he might just have been embarrassed.

"...You all think I'm just so daamn British, don't you?"

He opened the Pack and pulled out item after item (traditional English mustard, Crabtree&Evelyn jam and honey, teabags, etc...) and turned progressively pinker with each one.
Then he pulled out the bar of Cadbury's and pondered it for a moment, before turning to us and going, half-hopefully, "...Was this made in England, then?"
Me: "...Um. No. Made in Malaysia."
Whitby: *headdesk*
Me: "...But on the bright side! It's Halal!"

Viva la DWL.
Team Garter FTW.

Oh, and speaking of Brits.

Game Day.
Go, TRUFC!
...Alchester, you can go and die kthx. Though the TRUFC guys'll probably give you a hand with that.

...Okay.
Stop digressing, Cara. Time to focus on the Other White Man instead of the one over there in the UK.

Mmk, Gorbachev.
Here I come.

2009-09-03T02:28:00.001-07:00

2009-09-01T09:54:00.000-07:00

Summer Flashback, fastforward to: Saturday Night Fever.

d-d-d-disco;

Spent a frantic half an hour getting ready in Tocil with the girls.
Realized, a little too late, that I could NOT pull off the harem pants that I had originally brought for the disco- what with me hardly coming close to 6 foot. Even in 6 inch Steve Maddens.
So I rummaged around in my typhoon of a room and found a green...sari..skirt thing. Only with me being less than 6 foot, I decided to loop the straps around my neck and twist it into a dress, instead. (yay for Chinese origami skillz)
Only- me being less than 6 foot- aforementioned makeshift dress was also about five inches too long; so I scouted around for safety pins and nipped up the hem and clasped everything together with a belt.
Oh yeah. Who says I would've failed Home Ecs' clothes module?

So we all walked into the disco area- strobe lights, dark floors, graffitied walls, neon blue bar. Skipped away into the ladies' to help secure Becca's Baby Phat toga dress with fashion tape. (because I can fit Sephora into my makeup pouch)
Came back out, and saw Joe. "well, I like the way you look tonight." and I chucked him on the chin and teased, "...course you do. You're a jock."
We just invite the stereotypes, don't we?

During disco: pulsing lights, warm, moving bodies, arms flung up into the air. The JMs dancing in our own little circle, with Tyler and Dmitry being all "YO MAMMA" and us doing Aled's geek-mathematician-meets-robot dance. Toni and Sam holding each other quietly, tenderly, amidst the noise. Lily raising her arms above her head, and shyly, sultrily; getting into the groove. Ruhi, Krish, Ellie and I dancing in the middle of a pressed-in circle and stamping and laughing and everyone keeping in time with our hands. It Girls for as long as the song lasted.
Joe coming to dance with me and bustin' out his jock moves. Pop your collah, prep boi! Worrrd.
Everyone jumping up and down in the air, fists pumped, during Metro Station's Shake It and Lady Gaga's Just Dance. Let the rhythm take you.

"just dance! gonna be okay--"

...and I think again how much of an anthem this is for our general.
Forget Panic!-- this is desperation at the disco.

...Cotton Eyed Joe came on!
Everyone was square-dancing and being all folksy; and I remember spinning around with Tyler, and then just standing in the middle of the dancefloor and laughing hysterically because:
"if it hadn't been for Cottoneyed Joeee
I'd've been married a long time ago
Where did you come from, where did you go?
Where did you come from- Cottoneyed Joeeeee"
Found Joe and squaredanced around and around like two idiots. (hot idiots, but still.) Air lasso-ing! Yeehaw, cowboy.

"omg. I need a drink."
Diet Coke (me) and OJ (him) at the bar. Cuz we're hardcore like that. Him trying to mock chat me up at the bar.
...Sweaty and suave. Oh, this one's a keeper.

...NUMBER ONE. Tinky Star!! Neo-parody style.

500 Miles, by the Proclaimers. Joe doing some weirdass soldier dancemoves (I blame the RM influence) during the marchy first bit; and then launching into his own rendition of the song...

"...Ohhh...I WOULD WALK FIVE HUNDRED MILES
and I WOULD WALK SIXTHOUSANDFIVEHUNDRED MOREEE"

You have not witnessed Performance until you've seen Joe positively ROAR his revamped lyrics.
Such a drama king.

Me yanking off my skyhigh gladiators, tossing them into the corner, and plunging back into the crowd to dance barefoot and unencumbered.
Crumping with Ellie. Real gangstaaahh.

Confessionals in the Ladiez with Saphy.
Her crying into my dress and me stroking her back with one hand, and balancing diet coke in the other.
"...Remember. I want you to never forget: ...you are one of the most special, most unique people I've ever known. You need to remember that."

Livin' La Vida Loca!
The best impromptu dancefloor moment, ever.
I don't know how it happened; but Joe and I started crumping- me mock lunging and launching play punches, and him dodging and ducking in this mock fight moving diagonally across the dancefloor, and people turning to look and grin at the spectacle.
Things're blurring now but I remember wild, jangling, Spanish-type music-- and then we weren't dancing; we were burning- leaping, bounding, sashaying, not form not person not rhyme not reason just savage kinestheticism
and whirling across the entire dancefloor like it was ours.

Not thinking, not seeing, just Being...and all the while we were caught up in some joyous, primal ecstasy of limbs and pulsating rhythms and growling lights and wild drums that nobody could penetrate.

It was beautiful.
I'd never felt that way before.

drums and disco lights and late night magick spell infinitism.