Baby did a bad bad thing.

Just back from PCB's after dinner with A in town. Caught her anime flick Tokyo Godfathers (which was really quite entertaining) and Down With Love with Ewan and Renee (my best friends), that turned out to be an utter waste of time.

What really is worth whining about, though, was that I managed to find myself unable to start the car outside her apartment at 1.13 in the morning, with absolutely no idea why save for the vague theory that I needed a jumpstart. So in between frantically calling A for help and trying to flag down passing motorists (and looking utterly dodgy and shady in the process), PCB came down for moral and physical support, without which I might've looked no different from a midnight carjacker. This cabby ended up stopping (probably thought we were potential fares) and agreed to take a look: He steps in, and immediately flicks the gear from NEUTRAL to PARK, after which... the car purrs to life, and I have absolutely nowhere to hide my face. Guess who's never, ever forgetting to lodge the gear in P from now on...

***

"Free will. It's like butterfly wings: once touched, they never get off the ground. No, I only set the stage. You pull your own strings." - Al Pacino, as John Milton, The Devil's Advocate

Confidences trop intimes.

I watched a clip the other day. A spunky cartoonist in her late 20s (let's call her B) meets a hot woman at her best friend's wedding with whom she has a connection, and after the event she gets a call from her best friend, who says that a certain Samantha thought B was cute, and that she gave her B's number and hoped she didn't mind. B doesn't, of course, and shortly after she gets a call from Samantha. The two hit it off tremendously, and it isn't long before they're chatting online and even shamelessly flirting; things are most definitely progressing. Samantha then suggests that she come down to B's for the week, and B agrees.

When Samantha turns up, however, she isn't the woman B thought she was. Literally. The woman at the wedding was a stunning brunette, and Samantha is a short, somewhat plump woman with plain features and an awkward laugh. B is mortified, but invites her in anyway, and while talking over drinks that night Samantha makes a move. B is stricken - she doesn't want to hurt Samantha's feelings, but she doesn't want to lie, either. She kisses Samantha, and the screen fades to black.

Over time B realises that Samantha's growing on her, and that they really do have a lot in common. She falls fast and hard, and the two are inseparable. The week goes by in a blur; but when it is time to leave Samantha stops suddenly by the door and takes her hands. She tells B that she has had fun, but that there is so much more out there, and thanks her for showing her the way. Samantha leaves without another word. Plain, awkward Samantha, the woman B thought she couldn't ever love.

I remember so vividly, the colours of the sky at dusk, and it haunts me.

***

I got your number on my wall,
But I ain't gonna make that call
When divided we stand baby,
United we fall

"When Love and Hate Collide" - Def Leppard

But a name is a name and the truth is the truth.

Easter break is officially in session, and I'd hate to rub it in, but I actually have nothing due immediately after so it'll mostly be a week (and a half) of fun, food, and friends. That having been said, it's just past 1am and I am done with both assignments due tomorrow. Yay me. :> The semester's off to a decent start, what with my ultra-slack timetable (which has officially become even slacker) and inspired industriousness (I'm actually excited about my research project!), plus gymming it out with friends (despite having shirked responsibility for a week) and generally being car-happy. I'll miss this place when it's over, and right now, I don't think I want it to be.

Getting in on the debate about how one knows when they've met the one they're supposed to be with (ah, peer pressure), what it boils down to for me is that up til now, I've never been in love. I've loved others, sure; gone through the crazy stage where you're literally obsessed with the other (to the point that it's potentially detrimental); the flowers, the candy, the sweet love notes, the impromptu visits, the handmade gifts... Just, no za-za-zu. No nondescript fuzzy feeling every minute of the day, no un-self-conscious desire to engage in casual intimacy (which takes real trust and degree of familiarity for me, and we're not even talking about sex), no devil-may-care attitude towards the state of my hair 30 seconds after waking up, or even -gasp- 10 hours into the day (we all know how important that is!). And that's how I know. Because it hasn't happened yet, and I'll know it when I feel it.

That having been said, the person you're supposed to be with isn't neccessarily the cliched "love of your life", or the person who makes all those things mentioned above happen. And whoever said there has to be just one person for whom these criterion are met? Or that said criterion don't wax and wane or evolve in relation to various elements and changes (personal growth, age, maturity, current place in life etc.) along the way? When it comes down to it, all that time analyzing or theorizing about the eternal complexities and intricacies of love (or relationships, for that matter) is pointless, since at the end of the day, you're not going to sit down and tick off a checklist in your head when it happens - you're going to be too busy absolutely bursting with feelings indescribable and undefinable alike to care.

(And then right after trying to justify it, the overwhelming, indescribable wistfulness.)

From Coupland's Eleanor Rigby: "I suspect that all human beings have a point where they realise that what they have is the most they're ever going to have, be it love, money or power. You have to make peace with who you are, and what you've become."

I love that book.

As an addendum, daylight savings will be in effect from 3am this Sunday (to 2am), so if people're gonna call, just keep that little tidbit in mind...

***

It doesn't really matter that I loved you
How many seasons fall
It doesn't really matter at all

I changed my name
To be rid of the things that I want from you
It's strange
But a name is a name and the truth is the truth

And it's no good looking back
Because time's a thief and I believe that
I'm too old for that
We're just saying the things that we have said
Forever

"It Doesn't Really Matter" - George Michael

Inescapable.

The Queer Film Festival over at Fed Square turned out to be a bit of a disappointment after all that hype. At $11 a ticket, Inescapable was riddled with cheesy lines and bad acting, and even the gratituous 5 (yes, five) sex scenes squished within 80 minutes did little to save the flailing acting. We just barely made it for Girl Play later in the evening after not having been able to purchase tickets, braving instead the massive standby queue where the leftover limited "Gold Ticket" seats were resold 5 minutes into starting time. It really was quite a nail-biting experience since the film was apprently quite in demand, and we had number 39 and they stopped at 40...

The actual flick turned out to be not quite what we expected, but was nonetheless better than Inescapable, which was essentially a waste of time and money. Both soundtracks were awesome though, and anyone who has yet to sample Minga's orgasmalicious sounds is much encouraged to click here for more info, and here for longer samples ("Good" and "Perfectly" are musts!). As an aside, anyone who has a lot of cash on their hands and/or is just feeling generous is also more than welcome to share the love... :x

It also struck me, as I stood waiting in the foyer right in the heart of gay central for A to come out (pun, pun), that I never, ever want to end up like one of the many who thronged the foyer after the earlier screening (read: overweight, saggy-titted flat-topped dykes in their 30/40/50s), and that anyone reading this who still knows me at that point of time is free to bitchslap some sense into me. Up-close the alternative lifestyle no longer seems to possess the shiny gloss it once did, and while yours truly still very much revels in the greedy joys of having her cake and eating it, I don't really see myself loitering on this side of the circle for very much longer... still, there was a cute chick with dark, cropped hair and gorgeous eyes across the room at night...

Dinner at Chocolate Buddha (what a cute name) after was, in a nutshell, disappointing. My hotate don turned out to be laden with both msg and gluten, and the ginger-oyster sauce glaze thing left an aftertaste so offensive that I made a mental to never, ever step out of the house without Airwaves again (which, turns out when I got back, were in my pocket all the time).

Heaps of work due over the next week: 100-106 website, article, and project proposal, and 100-311 project writeup... and it's already Sunday...

***

I thought self-defense mechanisms were supposed to prevent you from getting hurt.

Live like you're dying.

So exactly one week after our Crown casino carpark esca(r)pade, PCB and I ended up right back where we were today when Flinders was closed, again, for Moomba on our way to pick A for dinner. You cannot believe the utter exasperation upon seeing the damn detour signs - wasn't sure whether to scream or laugh (we ended up doing both), since it wasn't too long ago that we spent an entire hour trying to get from A to B via the convoluted "back route" when it would've taken us less than 25 as per usual.

It also didn't help that 1. We aren't familiar with the "other" roads, 2. We had a lousy phone-guide (thanks, A), 3. I haven't been driving long and everything is still an exercise in familiarity. Granted the detour route didn't involve the carpark this time, but the other two alternative paths leading away from it, which led us all the way back to where we had to make the detour at the Arts Centre. To cut a long story short, we got there eventually after a comparatively shorter wild goose chase, this time in search of the elusive Kings Way. A couple more times and I might just get the hang of it already.

Caught Team America (fuck yeah!) with A after dinner out in Boxhill (where we made a wrong turn, too, but it wasn't me behind the wheel). Quite funny la, but I wouldn't pay to watch it again. Kim Jong Il's "I'm Sho Rone-ri" killed.

My poor brother is stuck at E's sister's (who is really just my cousin, too) wedding preparations without me for company, which is vital if you are in on just how disassociated from my dad's side of the family we are [by choice (and to a lesser extent circumstance), mind you]. Sorry kid, wish I could be there, too. (Instead, I'm sitting in bed sipping yakult and munching on brunch. Where's the love?)

I'm so wimpy that an episode of Medium at 3 in the morning left me double-checking behind every few seconds from the toilet and back. :x

***

And should I go,
You won't say so
But I know it's true; I know
You've got a new favorite.

"New Favourite" - Alison Krauss

The pupil in denial.

Another back-breaking day of pilates, and despite the bruised ribs I weirdly seem to suffer the day after (when everyone else gets hurting abs), it's so far been a decidedly better "workout" (so to speak) than yoga the day before. It really could just be that we were novices in a foreign environment of tadasanas and svanasanas, and attempting to blend in inconspicuously with the crowd and pick up the already established (and learned) poses was a bit of a challenge. On hiatus til the following Monday so my back can nurse itself.

100-106 is turning out to be quite fun (warning: geek alert!) given that I get to sit in a computer lab for two hours tinkering away on a Dell with unrestricted net access (none of that uni-sites-only access shit), and the funky basics of html and FTP. Only annoying thing is that it's really a subject-within-a-subject since the website assessment requires that you research the content to be put on it, and Week 4 (which is essentially in 2 weeks) has 2 things due in (micro website with 600-word mini essay, and written proposal for the major project due at the end of the sem), both of which I have yet to embark on. Watch out for whiny post in T-1 days.

***

In other news, cheapo me caught two movies for the price of one (and half price too, at that -> $5!) at Nova on Monday. Loitered around in the cinema (mostly in the toilet...) after HOFD to wait for the others to get in so we could watch Closer, which was really quite good in terms of symbolism and irony. That, and the babelicious Natalie Portman (in no particular order)...

Am also completely obsessed with The Blower's Daughter on the soundtrack (slow, I know), but it was so utterly swoonsome together with the movie it's been on continuous repeat both on the ipod and lappy (36 as of Monday...).

Just spoke to mom to say happy birthday, and also conveniently make noise about my package, for which dad was entirely unapologetic about having "ripped it open" (according to mom -_-) to transfer its contents to a smaller box. That's the last time I'm having something delivered there, in any case. I'm also fully aware of the possible insinuations as to what was in the box, but no, it (sadly) wasn't the Rabbit Pearl I placed an order for some time back. ;p

There is ambiguity in most human relationships. Like a sequence of words, a relationship can be open to differing interpretations. And when two people have differing views, not merely of the state of their relationship, but of its very nature, it can affect the entire course of their lives. - Seven Types of Ambiguity, Elliot Perlman

***

Did I say that I loathe you?
Did I say that I want to
Leave it all behind?

"The Blower's Daughter" - Damien Rice

The Story of O.

Someone asked me the other day what were 5 things (as in material objects) I couldn't live without, and it took me quite a while to compile my fairly materialistic list:

So in no particular order,

1. Ipod
2. Aircon
3. Lappy
4. Car (which has since been christened "Edward", but that's another story)
5. Mobile

It's rather telling given that they're all techy and/or material things, and not sentimental items that mean a lot or were given for a special reason/person, etc.

Took Edward out (doesn't it sound oh-so-scandalous? ;p) with PCB yesterday and it was so hilariously funny coz we got lost after a detour at Flinders on the way to Nova (because of the F1 going on), and ended up in line to the Crown carpark with no way out but to tell the guy that we'd made a wrong turn and could he please let us out... that, the icing on top of a Murphy-worthy bad day, took us a full hour to get to Lygon itself, where we just barely made it for MDB. Which, as a concession, was actually good... not sure it deserved the Oscar hype, though...

***

"It has been said, by someone far wiser than myself, nobody is boring who is willing to tell the truth about himself. To narrow this down further, someone equally wise said that the things that make us ashamed are also the things that make us interesting."

- Eleanor Rigby, Douglas Coupland

On that note, I am utterly mortified that the folks opened the package that arrived for me on the grounds that they had to repack it... it is/was personal, HELLO?!?! It's terribly sweet and thoughtful that they wanted to include the chocs I'd asked about too, but still. I should've been consulted on the matter!

Sob. I feel almost sick to the stomach right now, and it absolutely doesn't help that I know exactly what the package contained, so. Ugh. -_- I bet I'll get a thousand and one questions the next time I call back... (amazingly there were none this time, save for whom it was from).

School tomorrow and readings to be done, as soon as I can get over the shock...

***

I don't need to fall at your feet
Just 'cause you cut me to the bone
And I won't miss the way that you kiss me
We were never carved in stone

"King of Wishful Thinking" - Go West

Downward dog.

You know the world is just slightly off of its axis when not only do I make it to school on a day not scheduled for class, the word of the day is pilates, and two months' worth of Group Fitness at the uni sports centre. Yes, I'm having a little trouble getting over the shock myself. My back and stomach muscles ache like a witch's teat right now, but today's session was awesome for a start, and having plenty of newbies there helped ease me into it, too. That having been said, guess who can't wait to go for yoga on Friday? ;p

On another note, Blondie is back on SVU for 1 eppy!

***

But I think it's one of those reminders from the universe: don't get too-too comfortable in your little groove. You have to step out of it sometimes to stay fresh and keep a balanced perspective.