22.07.2004 ~ 12:54 am
It's always better on holiday
So much better on holiday
That's why we only work when
We need the money
I bought several compilation CDs for insanely low prices (20 HKD, 1.39 GBP, 2.56 USD) at HMVHK after getting Scarlett Johansson VCDs where the man thought that I was also a MAN. The idea behind getting feelssogood: 42 tracks - 11 number ones was that I could relive happy prepubescent memories by listening to the radio/disco-friendly singles of the time. Somehow they sound worse than I remembered.
Man, Out Of Your Mind (Truesteppers feat. Dane Bowers and Victoria Beckham) was bad. So bad that it was really good. I want to hear Woman Trouble. Why is it not on any of these?
My new on-the-side obsession while I wait for the Aquashop to open. He keeps fruity altoids and makeup in his Louis Vuitton bag, how cute is that?
Boykissing! Stashyboykissing!
And you haven't even seen his frilly white dressing gown. VCD man, all is forgiven.
Oh, and because Pretty Boy is a model, obsessives can go to his modelling agency's website and look up his height (187 cm), weight (79 kg) and um... other statistics (39" 32" 39"). Oh, and according to his tacky yet pretty official site, he has size 12 feet and has grown one centimetre (188 cm). A growing boy! A whole decade younger than Matt! And according to Yvonne (fangirl buddy) he's 3 inches taller than my beautiful.
Here he is pretending to be a popstar. Feeble.
It is 11:48 pm. This entry took this long to write and this long to lose. So now I'll just spend this long rewriting.
I took a bath just now. I don't remember the last time I took a bath, but it was in HK when I could have easily drowned in those mini-tubs in the mini-living-spaces they call flats. I wanted to relax and listen to Aqualung (on an iPod, how supremely stupid) and read Eats, Shoots and Leaves. How does one read in the bath with all this water splashing about, clinging to skin and fingers? I should have bought one of those plastic Spot the Dog (what a stupid pun) books. Arms and legs surprisingly and pleasantly buoyant. Water stayed (too) warm.
Showertime is a time of meditation. I am separated from the outside world by a staircase (yes, spoilt), a locked door, a shower curtain, ventilator and water noise. I can close my eyes, I can sing as loud as I want, I can cry, I can think, I can smile, I can shout and I can switch off. Therefore I feel terribly violated when my parents talk to me from the outside, loud bastards. They might as well barge in with a battering ram and point out how I'm washing my hair wrong. Anyway, Halfway to the Bottom (you're either dipping your toe or you're dorwning) was rudely interrupted by a phonecall from my aunt (who called this morning, her last night) and my dad felt obliged to talk loudly to her right outside in an unsubtle hint for me to hurry up.
Hardly. I turned on the shower to wash off the dirty bathwater and shampoo. I don't go on a decade-long Lenten vow to abstain from baths for no reason. I probably use a bathful of water showering anyway; just doing my part to destroy the earth. So everything was wet, messy and sticky when I got out. I was so stressed, in fact, that I thought it couldn't get any worse and opened the AP results. AP result and it was good: 4 (out of 5) for APUSH. It was higher than I had expected (well done, you limey cocksucker) but a minor detail that might only save me Money and Time in Further Education does not amuse me.
What else? Oh yes. Kristal asked me to go shopping today. I cruelly pushed her away, saying that 1) I had shopped much too much, 2) everything costs about five times more than they do in Thailand, 3) they are five times prettier there, 4) I am still Tired and 5) I am ill. Of course, all of the above are perfectly valid but the more one says, the less sincere it sounds. And as I spoke, my abnormally phlegmy high voice returned to normal, making me sound like a Faker.
Mads says that it's because I hate my friends here. I say that I love the ones I've known for longer more.
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