Magdalene

My love affair with my studies is going through a rough patch.

Maybe it's just because of exams? Exams, the loathsome creature that mocks my immaturity, my lack of hard work, my stupidity. Perhaps. But this semester has been a sort of blur for me, and the only classes I felt like I was attending body and soul were my french classes.

How can you have a love affair with accounting anyway? It sounds downright laughable. Have you ever met a person who is genuinely fascinated by it? I was reading someone's blog, and the passion and innate interest she has for what she's learning, her enthusiasm about her studies and her course work, it shone through, and it killed me a bit, because I don't think I've ever felt like that about my studies. Yes, what I learn can be stimulating,I acknowledge its due importance, but my interest for my studies is parked at the end of classes, and I don't integrate what I learn with my life. I wish I could be more... emotional, I suppose, with my studies. But it's kind of hard to get all worked up over the joys of learning things like the existence of separate financial reporting obligations for different-sized companies, or directors' duties to shareholders.

Why did I choose a commerce degree? Because I felt a certain satisfaction in working out how accounts balance, and was stoked when they actually did. Because economics fascinated me in a way physics and biology couldn't. Because I thought I was good at it, that my intelligence was meant for these subjects, because I could see myself becoming a kick-ass accountant.

Now that I don't feel that I'm good at it anymore, and that my intelligence seems non-existent, and half of my lectures bore me to tears, what does that leave me with?

I want to come home so badly, I am ultimately tired of this place for the time being.

*** Very sorry for this, I tried very hard to avoid doing an emo exam post this time around. I was initially supposed to blog about things like witty(if I do say so myself) retorts to weight-gain comments, tim-tam slam orgasms, my imaginary t-shirt shop ambitions, etc, but somehow this was what came about. I is failure.

I have to go get groceries

My compensation for studying as of late has been videos of korean boybands.

Betul.

Despite the demise of the boyband in negara-negara matsalleh(or its evolution to the Jonas Brothers), it has been perfectly preserved in South Korea. I mean, we're talking about the traditional formula here:

Good looking guys(or disturbingly pretty, depending on your view) + catchy pop tunes + dancing + videos with close-ups of them singing with emotional faces = bunch of fangirls squealing

South Korean boybands are wonderfully unapologetic about it, the boys are all so pretty(nampak macam semua baru hit puberty, but withouts zits. No body hair to be seen!) utterly metrosexual, good dancers(I now appreciate the intricacies of good blocking), and they have a tendency to go for band names in the form of letters.

How can I not be cheered up watching them?!

So if I don't do well for this exam, you know why. I was too busy watching hairless boys singing and dancing simultaneously.

tell her nothing if not this

Someone must have slipped me the happy drug today, because I was giggling (that's right, giggling) at the most random things. I giggled thinking about the french dialogue I had to listen to for my listening test. I giggled while I was walking behind a couple of acquaintances of mine who had recently become an actual couple. I giggled after I pretended not to see someone(I'm sorry,I can't help it! Avoiding a conversation just seems easier than actually having one), I giggled reading the scribbles on the tables at the library(I love scribbles!). I giggled thinking about some regrets,I giggled thinking how frumpy I looked, I giggled while replaying recent events and conversations in my head, I giggled watching videos on Youtube. It was a lot of giggling, occasionally followed by periods of perplexity over what was it I found so damn amusing.

Remember this one?


I should be sleeping.

Riot on an empty street

"Elle est amoureuse!"
"Je la connais même pas".
"Mais si je la connais".
"Depuis quand ?"
"Depuis toujours. Dans tes rêves".


***

Having been reminded of the existence of this blog, I am somewhat pleasantly surprised by how much I miss it. I miss it like I miss a pal, as if the few people who read it have molded into one big lump of friend, a friend I just so happen to be at ease with to tell embarrassing things to. It hasn't been that long since I last blogged, but it sure feels like it, and I have all these things I want to tell you, what I've been up to, and what I've been scared of and what I've been excited about, what has been making me feel guilty. I'm sorry it's all about me, but that's just the kind of friend this blog is.

But first order of business. I got King's of Convenience's Declaration of Dependence, and here I must stop and take a deep breath because I'm about to burst with the joy of telling you how much I love it. Few things make me as happy as when I finally get a CD I've been anticipating and it turns out as good as you hoped it would be(and my hopes were pretty high).It is so lovely. KAKAK KAKAK KAKAK JUST WAIT 'TILL I COME BACK THEN YOU CAN LISTEN TO IT!

Second order of business. I was in my macro tutorial the other day, lost as usual, and suddenly Voice in My Head quipped: "and to think you tried applying to Cambridge. Ha-ha!Ha-ha-ha!".I almost joined in laughing out loud.

Third order of business. Being in the dance production for Flare reminded me of some long-lost childhood trait: I kind of like performing. It's a bit intoxicating, that adrenaline rush before you get out on stage, the swell of watchamacallit if your performance goes well.

There's no place like home. There's no place like home. There's no place like home. I don't mind that I'll have to meet up with relatives saying I've gained weight, or if my family gets annoyed with me, or the cat doesn't recognize me, or even the dread of work and the inevitable screw-ups that come with it. I want to get home.

Now, all I have to do is contribute towards a kickass show tonight, sober up tomorrow and get cracking on the studies. and say sorry to God. again. and stop eating out and cook more. and do the exam papers. and look forward to my flight back.

sounds like a plan.a plan that does not account for freaking out.

In which I tell you embarassing things and make you cringe

I am perfectly comfortable admitting I am a social retard. You see, the thing is, most times, I don't mind. Sure it can be uncomfortable at moments, I've complained about them often enough. But I seem to have accepted it and am content with the fact that this is who I am, that I will not make friends effortlessly, that I will not be a social butterfly. I've figured out I will always be uncomfortable at parties, that I'll be the quiet girl in tutorials, the one who sits alone at lectures. I'm not happy that I don't easily connect with many people, but as corny as this may sounds, it makes me happier when I do manage to connect with someone, I like to delude myself that its worth more. I'm such a hard person to be friends with(I'm sombong, I'm quite crazy,etc), so when someone does manage to do so I am eternally grateful.

But sometimes, like when your french partner ditches you(Jonathan has gone missing), and your french teacher asks the rest of the class whether they'd want to partner with you and it remains silent, you are reminded that you are a social retard in the most painful way possible. And so you wonder.

What if I don't want to be fucking sociable?

mad? yes.
Ashamed? yes.
hungry? Yes. I'm going to go makan.

"I've been feeling like a fox with sad old eyes"

One reason why I like Breakfast at Tiffany's so much is because it had that part where Holly talks about the mean reds, about suddenly feeling scared without knowing what you're afraid of. It made perfect sense, because sometimes I'll be in the shower(this feeling usually occurs either when I'm in the shower or sitting on my bed at sunset, I don't know why), and I'll suddenly find myself dreading something, like it's the end and I have nowhere to run to. I'll have no idea why and start listing all the possibilities for this feeling, starting with whether I've prayed. Sometimes it feels like the end, the end that no music or pretty film can prevent from coming. I'll rest my head against the bathroom wall,(sometimes I'll be wearing a flowery shower cap as I do so), and will the hot water to wash the feeling away.

Either way, I like the fact I have a name to call it now.

This song makes me feel things.

And though our doors may knock and rattle in the wind
I'll just hold you tight and we'll not let those fuckers in

Listening to Bloc Party, I was struck by a line from Two More Years.

I've become crueler in your presence

While the song in its entirety wasn't relevant to what I was thinking, that line alone struck a chord. I know I often behave appallingly, sometimes with specific actions like making spiteful comments or pretending not to see someone, sometimes just with sheer arrogance. I don't know why I still do it, and I don't know how to reconcile the different parts of myself with any of it. I'm sorry.

But enough about that. I've booked my flight ticket home, yay! Beacon of light. And I've had a serving of vegetables today, which always makes me feel good(never mind the fact it was cauliflower, not some green leafy vegetable). You know you've crossed a certain point in your life when you go looking for sayur, as opposed to avoiding them like the plague(picking out the mixed veggie your mom puts in nasi goreng, anyone?).

I like to whistle. I didn't know how to whistle until after school, because apparently bersiul adalah perbuatan yang sial, therefore I was told to avoid it. However, after school there was no one telling me not to, plus my parents are both avid whistlers, so there you have it. I practiced until I could blow more than just air.

I like telling you useless information, I know.

Going HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY HEEEY!

Holy cow!



I'm sorry to sound like a buffoon, but Erlend looks so endearing with his flippable sunglasses/glasses, he has officially joined the ranks of people I lust after but will never meet. Move over Edward Norton, shift aside young John Cusack, give the man some room. Let him sit next to all the Korean actors I've got lined up.

There's even another video already, for Mrs Cold, go watch it.

A friend of mine got tickets to go see Phoenix in Birmingham, apparently, which made me relive the awesomeness of watching them here. The highlight of highlights was the encore, of course, they ended with 1901, which was off the hook! Luckily some person on youtube recorded it, because I recorded squat.


Still my favourite song off the new album, and the lights! Whoo.

One thing that bugs me when I go to a gig is when there are people near me who stand stock still during the show, or only concede to bop their heads or sway ever so slightly. It's their choice, of course, but it sort of defeats the whole purpose, doesn't it? How can you not instinctively want to move when you hear a riff like that? Or, to be more honest, it makes me feel idiotic when I shake around by myself.

I was watching a milk commercial on tv, they used this really pretty song which I couldn't find out by whom, but thanks to the kuasa that is yahoo answers, some nice person revealed that it's a song called Picture Frames by Georgia Fair. Can I be really douchey and just put it here?