The current state of my existence - a thorough exploration in bullet points:
* Tinned tuna and crackers have become a constant in my life. Their relative cheapness and easiness to pack with other necessary items for uni outweigh the obvious downside of smelling like a poor man's concubine for the rest of the day. It should also be noted that tuna and crackers are devious little f*ckers because they trick me into feeling good about my calorie-controlled lunch consumption, only to have me then put McDonald's out of business because I am a) immediately starving, and b) viciously obsessed with eating. And thus the whole "doing my body good" thing is grievously nulled.
* I have undertaken one of the most arduous character building exercises ever. Yes, it's akin to volunteering at retirement homes to wipe bottoms, and even more painful than watching Beyonce for longer than anyone should have to. (Sorry Kanye) For a large part of this week, I've put my self-consciousness on suspension... and worn glasses. In public. TO THINK I HAVE HAD PHYSICAL INTERACTION LOOKING LIKE A FOUR-EYED-BEAST!!1!!1!
* Have spent more than sufficient time in the uni film suite this past week to be at liberty to call it my (volatile) lover. He's made me laugh and made me (want to) cry! He's encouraged my creativity and pushed me to exhaustion! He's been at the forefront of my mind and been a needy, attention-craving little maniac. Like I said, a volatile lover. Just a preview of what I've been working on:
* Clean underwear has also decided to become a myth, or gremlins have decided to raid my underwear drawer and present the findings to their leaders. I have been wearing bathing suit bottoms. Yesterday, while walking back to my car from the supermarket, I felt a sensation that can be acutely described as 'falling underwear'. One side of my bikini strings came undone and I ended up walking the rest of the way back holding dearly onto my bottom, as if I were rescuing turd from premature departure.
* Hannah asked me to do a speech at her upcoming 21st. I am ecstatically flattered at being picked amongst her HUGE list of loves to share a few words and anecdotes, as well as violently mortified about my dull droning's ability to inflict sleepiness upon her guests. She is beautiful and charming and the baby spinach to my cous-cous, and damnit, this speech better amazing.
* My feet smell terrible.
* And my beautiful Min turned 20 last week, so naturally we put our livers through some character building of their own. Cue necessary pic-spam:
WELL HEY, it is currently 12:30am Friday. I have a halloween party tonight, to which I STILL have no costume. JOY!
Look, I won't lie.
See that title? Well, let me clarify it a little for you. I thought about blogging, for days now actually. Thought about blogging on my drive home this afternoon as the sun glinted nicely off my bird-pooped-on windscreen. Situated myself in front of the computer, did the token back stretch in preparation for blogging, then I thought long and hard about blogging while looking at pretty pictures and playing some tetris.
And how! Look where we are now.
....The ridiculous thing is, the above words were written on Monday evening. It is currently Thursday evening. Time has elapsed, Kanye West died, Kanye West regrettably did not really die, the desire to blog remained present, and still, my wordcount remained unsubstantial .
Ridiculous, I say.
I'm so exhausted, but not unfulfilled. Today was productive, if by productive we mean I have tired (and smelly) feet attached to weary legs, am a few dollars poorer from beers, and have read an admirer note possibly penned to me in mx - the free paper.
No, really. Today was productive. Spent the morning in the editing suite logging and capturing footage for our tv journalism final project. We're doing our story on parkour - obviously am excited about the subject matter and the talent we get to work with. The thrilling thing is that I managed to capture the entire tape. The not so thrilling thing is that there are currently three other tapes in my bag left to capture.
Made our way to UNSW, also known as The University of New South Wales or 'that campus that regrettably is a lot more attractive than ours' to film an interview with a law professor. Being journalism students, we couldn't just film a lovely promo piece for parkour, so we're exploring public liability and legality with regards to parkour. Much to my annoyance, we discovered that the equipment store supplied us the wrong cable, and as a result, we could not attach the external mic to the camera. So I totally had to put aside my patent perfectionism, swallow my dignity, and settle for the sub-par sound quality of the in-built mic.
(By the way, any reference to apparent perfectionism is a joke. A funny one at that!)
Fortuitously, Djordje txtd me earlier of a training session occurring on those very grounds! So we got around to filming more footage, although I should clarify that Angus filmed more footage while Lauren and I ogled and perved. Maybe I shouldn't speak for Lauren though, so in that case, fine, I did it - all the ogling and perving. It was all me!
We needed to interview Shaun, but the lousy in-built mic and the wind were a most ill-fated couple, so Djordje was gracious enough to drive us all back to uni to obtain a functioning lead for the external mic. The interview went swimmingly, and Djordje, Shaun and I headed to the uni bar where I bought them some well-deserved beers. There was myrth! And there was laughter! I swear, they are my favourite parkour swine.
And while reading Mx on my train trip home, I came across this:
This may just be my overblown self-indulgence talking, but I think... that was for me. Last Wednesday, I wore all black - from my boots, to my top and my jacket - except for my skirt which was blue. (But blue and black are practically the same thing if we disregard that "ack" is phonetically different from "ue".) The train line mentioned above happened to be the one I was traveling on. I was handed a note, by the young man seated in front of me, whereupon he told me I was pretty, followed by a series of numbers of which we can assume are the digits of his mobile phone. Not to be rude and completely disregard the note, I shook his hand, told him my name and said, "I'm off at this stop. Nice to meet you." He then told me I had pretty eyes... which I think is a load of bollocks considering I am asian and asians don't generally luck out in the eye department. Just saying.
In conclusion, was that note for me or was that note for me?
Anyway, it's almost 1am. Am heading in again to uni to get as much footage digitised as I can, so shut-eye is in order. I'll scrimp on the words now and leave with my trademark picture dump from the night of my gig and from Hugh's 21st the night after.
Just quickly though: so grateful to everyone who swung by to hear me offend the silence with my vocal chords. Nikk and I did 4 of my originals (So Incredibly Profound, I Quit Being Miserable, If I Wrote A Letter To Myself and Walk Away), The Mamas and the Papas' Dream A Little Dream of Me and Britney's Toxic. Thanks guys! Thanks Nikk!
(birthday swine & i!)