Saturday, October 24, 2009
I ignore the fact that I have a Calculus midterm on Monday and enjoy my lazy Saturday. Saturdays come too few and far in between and end in the blink of an eye. Then back to bedlam, back the madhouse and the grind. And no, I don't work in a big city office in a dirty little town, I'm merely talking about University. No time to breathe- 24 hours not enough in a day- sleep is a luxury- confusing- consuming- University.
We had our Physics midterm yesterday. Haha. It wasn't funny. That was just the mirthless laugh of someone who knows that they're probably failing, but it's alright, because so is half the class. Considering the average last year was 40% and my psychic powers don't go as far as predicting whether a car will land 8.8 metres -or (e) none of the above- away from the edge of a cliff once it was foolish enough to fall off it in the first place, I figure I shall probably scrape through. With some luck.
Luck. I've always for some obscure reason instinctively felt like I have an extraordinary amount of luck. When I fall into a mess, it always blows over, and there are chocolate chip cookies and people along the way to tide me over it. If I want something I generally get it, be it getting into the top English department in Asia or freezing in a strange cold land far far away (eh? ). If I find myself crushing on someone, by some odd twist of fate, they generally turn out to like me back. Of course, the fact that I inevitably have to move to a land far far away, just as things are getting nice and cosy is another story. When I forget the room number of the Lab I'm running to, some kind stranger always allows the strange girl with flushed cheeks, messy hair and wild eyes to access their computer. OR maybe they're not actually kind, just scared. If want a makeup set that I'm never going to use, someone gifts it to me. Or I accidentally bump into it by mistake so that it gets chipped and then my mother has to buy it for me. If there's a movie I have been waiting to watch forever, a recently made new friend turns out to have a copy of the rare CD. When I stumble and fall, there's always someone there to pick me up. Or at least watch, cross their fingers and pray from afar. And I've always had good, no, great friends. Stumbled across them, clung on and never let go. Thankfully, they haven't complained. For some unfathomable reason they seem to like making my life happier. I have a family that's endured my erratic and confused temperament and forays into unknown territories. I have people who've got my back.
Life's good. Yes, I've been undeniably lucky. You know how they say when you're feeling down count your blessings? Well, I just sort of did and turns out that there are way too many to count. Utter gratitude to God or lady fortune.
Fell off to sleep last night feeling utterly unhappy with the world and with myself and where I was. You see, eavesdropping on someone saying nice things about you when they don't know you're around is infinitely nicer than hearing a group of people bitch about you. Right outside your door. Where you can hear every word. Strangely though, the first thought that struck me when they did get done with the laughter and shrieks of "Omg, yea, isn't that weird", was that this is probably a good thing, cuz it taught me never to bitch about someone. Even randomly. The girl who sits in the corner, the guy with the polka dotted pants, the one who annoyingly hangs around trying to be friends. Cuz even the people who don't matter, do matter. I know that this sounds cliched, but it's sort of a 'you had to be there' thing. The resentment and embarrassment don't even come close to the hurt. So no, girls don't *have* to be bitchy. And you never know, that person could well turn out to be the next Jhumpa Lahiri or Marie Curie. Or you know, Superman!
Another thing I've discovered is "Buri nazar" really does work. Just the other day, a floormate of mine commented on my clear skin saying " I don't get it, what do you do, your face is completely clear". I replied with the fact that I had no routine unless forgetting to wash your face, 3 cups of coffee and last minute late nights counted. Also, no make-up. The next day I developed a pimple. After more than three months. I don't generally get pimples, having been blessed with clear skin. But when I do, ye Gods, it's going to be just the one pimple. Huge and painful. And most importantly, prominent. I couldn't feel more awkward and unnattractive if I was walking around with a Rudolph style red nose. Goddamn that, 'buri nazar'. On hindsight I realize, that you're probably not supposed to discuss acne on a public blog, but oh, what the hell. It's my blog and I've never exactly been very politically correct.
I spoke to a good friend today. A best friend actually. We had a three and half hour conversation, punctuated with a few tears, laughter, ultrasonic squealing, "deep" discussions, sensitive issues, cries and moans and lots and lots of love. It made me happy.
Despite the ugly pimple and the shitload of work. Despite my midterms and despite them goddamn haters.
I feel the laou and I like.
<3 to the Transatlantic ting-tings, strawberry cheesecake to you all.
Gratitude to someone up there.
I'm going to do some Calculus.