sotto voce

to answer carrot’s question:
yes, all of them are facebook-able (oh my, never underestimate the mighty power of facebook), so shoot me an email or catch me online so we can ogle-fogle them to our hearts’ content.

but yah… nujabes is nujabes because he introduced me to nujabes and rediscovered my long-lost liking for acid jazz. so right now i’m diggin my old acid collection (not the drugs. haha) and trippin’ myself away while chillin’ in my lab.
=)

as usual, mango acted like the asshole he is and forgot that we’re supposed to have a lunch date today and that he’s supposed to treat me to lunch in a chic spanish tapas bar.
and as usual, nujabes saved the day and made my ny trip worthwhile by offering his pad, hospitality, (and more), when i was pretty much close to being down and out in the city.

but as usual, i still haven’t disowned mango as i should. and as usual, i didn’t appreciate nujabes as much as i should.

i’m in that period of time (again) when i start pondering why on earth was i so myopic as to be willing to commit myself to such a restrictive relationship that resembles ‘till-death-do-us-part’ clause in marital vows?
after twelve enjoyable hours of hanging out with nujabes, i found myself thinking – on the car ride back to campus – of ways to get out of my current relationship. (bad girl, i know)
but i can’t sustain the thought because it seems too despicable to even mull over, especially when i can hear my boyfriend’s reprimandng voice in my mind, reciting the same line he had said to me the last time  i asked for a break-up: "see sel, i’ve told you many many times that you’re always the one who’ll ask for a break-up. and wasn’t i right a couple of weeks ago when i asked you whether you’re seeing other guys and you said no. you lied didn’t you."
the reproving voice, loaded with the most potent guilt-inducing lines possible, delivered straight into the innermost corner of my conscience.
dammit. i read somewhere that the fact tt i fear my bf is a sign of unhealthy relationship.
haha.

but yah. don’t surmise too much yet.
i don’t even know if nujabes is really interested in me in that sort of way as what other ppl have told me and what i’ve noticed.
another ny weekend coming up next week.
we’ll see how that one goes.

it’s 1ish and mango supposed to call anytime soon to schedule our lunch date.
normally i’d get all jittery and expectant, wondering why he still hasn’t called.
but no more of those stupid school-girl inane behavior =)
right now i don’t care about mango anymore because i’ve superimposed him with someone else, who treats me better than he ever has treated me.
i believe this is the way to forget.

so the past few days i’ve been listening to morbid songs and just generally feeling morbid about things.

guess what,
wy’s grandma just passed away.

i’m sure it’s just funny coincidence, but it still is weird.
plus i don’t know how to handle these things…
i offered him consolation, etc. but i keep worrying if these things are really what people need when they grieve. does he really want to hear all these cheesy, generic things from me? does he really need condolences from other people? or should i just let him grieve in his personal way? does he want to talk about his grandma, or should i just let him cry until he’s over it?

i believe death is always more difficult for the people left behind than the person who’s dead. 

went for a quick bite before my caffeine nap with sade today. interestingly, my sleep-deprived vision was still able to spot the bunny suicide postcards collection. of course i just had to share my morbid humor with sade.

then i happened to listen to death cab for cutie’s "i’ll follow you into the dark", which has bunny in their video clips, and is also somewhat morbid.
morbidity for sure has certain affinities for me (i’m surrounded by three annoying coughers right now)

damn.
i am deadly, indeed.

Love of mine some day you will die
But I’ll be close behind
I’ll follow you into the dark

If there’s no one beside you
When your soul embarks
Then I’ll follow you into the dark
Then I’ll follow you into the dark

i don’t understand how my sister is able to work in the respi department, facing people who wheeze, cough, hack, vomit blood, and gasp for their last breaths.
for the past few days i’ve been living in the computer lab, trying mightily hard to go against my natural perfectionist tendency and finish my effin geomorph paper. (yes, as usual i attempt to do a research paper that befits a thesis paper than an off-the-mill, regular term paper. shoot me. )

during the course of these two miserable, caffeine-laden days, i have to deafen myself with whatever music i have with me, in order to block out the coughing sounds outside. apparently it’s the whooping cough season, or something like that – everyone is coughing like crazy: my housemates, my friends, and people in general.

it’s soooo irritating to hear whooping cough that has the ping sound and it just comes one after the other. i’ve yet to find out why it’s superbly annoying to me and sets me invariably on edge (i actually feel like smothering the cougher to death) but omfg why can’t they just stay at home instead of spreading their germs to mankind and disturbing my ever-so-needed peace in the process.

compassion i have aplenty, just not for people who don’t try to be kind to themselves and other people.
so next time you have that whooping cough,
STAY AT HOME!

He picked her up some flowers
On a sunday afternoon
They sat out on the porch swing
Underneath the cresent moon

A life timeseemed to pass
Staring at the skies
And on the swing he gave her the ring
There were tears in her eyes

He said I pray I’m not alone
In my dreams about forever
That you and I could become one
And always be together

We’d grow old and wise
Through all the days
For worse or for better
And now be true inside of you
Even now more than ever

And my lifetime flies but we’ll fly farther
Into the night where the eyes of loneliness can never bother
All our dreams of together uneclipsed by never never
And my time flies it’s in your eyes, but we’ll fly farther

Fifty years have ridden off into the sunset
And the tears that we have cried have overflown
Here we are counting scars, wounds of life’s ending upset
You’re with me and I with you and I will never forget

And my time flies but we’ll fly farther
Into the night where the eyes of loneliness will never bother
All our dreams of together uneclipsed by never never
And mytime flies it’s in your eyes, but we’ll fly farther

He picked her up some flowers
On a sunday acfternoon
He rode the Greyhound bus past the house they used to swoon
He knelt beside the grave, hung his head, a teardrop fell
And on the stone epitaph show the words he knew so well…

And my time flies but we’ll fly farther
Into the night where the eyes of loneliness will never bother
All our dreams of together uneclipsed by never never
And my time finds it’s in your eyes, but we’ll fly farther

And my timeflies but we’ll fly farther
Into the night where the eyes of loneliness will never bother
All our dreams of together, uneclipsed by never never
And my time finds it’s in your eyes, but we’ll fly farther

We’ll fly farther
We’ll fly farther

Click here 

was talking to nate about last night and he said:

damn i was so tanked last night.

i don’t know what ‘tanked’ was. so i checked it on urbandictionary.

hence, now i also know what ‘tank strip’ means.
lol.

you always learn sth new everyday. hahahah. 

on friday mango and i talked about how we both share ‘the wanderlust’.
the ideal situation will be to travel all around the world, doing random assignments and never get a stable job.
i wish i wish i wish.
but probably after three-five years on the road, i’ll get tired and my maternal gene would kick in, urging me to settle down somewhere peaceful.
although i do doubt how long the maternal gene will stay with me, probably after a while i’ll be craving for adventure again, and be one of those crazy parents who have mid-life crisis and move somewhere crazy, like africa.
therefore i should curb my maternal gene. period.

but yah. i love travelling. i hate being cooped up in one place, physically and metaphysically.
find me a job tt can allow me to travel everywhere.
journalism perhaps?

anyway, looking at these pictures just make me want to sling my LSR over my shoulder and head over to somewhere new.
like, now. 

once in a while you just have to stop, look around you and wonder if you should continue the walk. everything sure has been enjoyable but i need to move on and start running on a different track.
not only in a matter of relationship, just life in general.
perhaps this is why they recommend juniors to study abroad, because life does get mundane and repetitive after two years. perhaps i’ve just screwed myself by not dropping stupid css and go abroad instead.
i’m just trying to stay positive and hoping that my continuous exploration of the world will keep me distracted for a while more.
and contrary to what i’ve been planning all this time, i think i shdn’t go straight to grad sch after college. i need a long break from the academic world, from the people in the academic world, from this northern part of the world. probably travel to south america, pick up spanish and volunteer for some environmental-protection organization. just do something completely different so i can start anew.

three people just extended their "thanksgiving invitation" (wait… three-and-a-half actually) to me, which is another way of saying: ‘sel why don’t you come over for some session in the sack’.
i don’t know whether i shd feel flattered or feel like a slut – not that i have anything against the term.
y’all know how hard i try not to care about such things, but what do you do with fifteen years’ worth of asian education.

that’s why i think it’s very important to decide where and in what kind of school do you want to bring up your kids when they’re 7-17. 

ok. the chilly weather is clearly making me way too melancholic. not good, especially when i’m supposed to clean my room and do my laundry.
oh procrastination, you’ll be the death of me.

last night i discovered tt this guy who tried to hook up with me three weeks ago is a bass player.
damn. if only i knew beforehand.
bass players are sexy and they do amazing things with their fingers, plus… they know how to handle the curves.

damn. damn.
now he won’t even be friendly towards me and said i’ve broken his heart.
ouch.

the only thing you need to know about the post: RANDOM-NESS IS DIVINE

just came back from my weekly post-econ jaunt to eli’s with V and Y, plus an assortment of random people

(including the notorious and perhaps, the most hated person in my school, e… carp. just google his name and i think you’ll find the stuff he wrote in my sch’s newspaper and the GILLIONS of replies he got for his absolutely-politically-incorrect letter)

carp’s personal history aside, i love them A LOT. and it just made me wonder why i’m always much more chummy with the seniors than my peers. i mean, granting that age-wise i’m actually more of the senior class’s peer than the juniors. still…. does one/two years age difference matters that much?

and just for the record:
pickle and pepper (that’s battered sliced pickle and jalapenos for you, my love) at eli’s is the best thing ever… boo to H who thinks it’s gross. 

toward the end, we kept poking fun at people at wes who always began their sentences with "i feel like…" in class.
definitely i’m 60 to 70 percent guilty of it, and so does everybody else around the table. but i feel like it’s some things that catch on and ppl just sayin’ it because everybody is  sayin’ it without really realizing what they were saying.
got it?

training today was surprisingly good; except for the part where i hit Z’s thigh with my racket (and left a cute red smiley mark) and where i nearly smacked T’s face straight on with my windmill move.
good thing shon didn’t start chasing me with her racket up and down the squash court for not listening to her advice of asking for a ‘let’.
(if you don’t understand what the fuck is a let, it’s okay…)
so yah.. it feels good to finally get the hang of the hits and the deep serves etc.
just have to keep the optimism going, girl…
plus, i’m so fucking glad my period is done soon, because the past one week has just been really really terrible with my moodswings and all.

for sure, my mood is pulled down by the whole shorter daylight thing (damn Earth’s obliquity), but has been offset slightly by the weather.
you guys won’t believe how warm these couple of days have been.
although today’s weather is kinda icky (or as the chinks will say: men1) , i’m just lovin the fact that i can walk around in my tshirt and miniskirt ever so comfortably.
it’s abnormal
and ironic too, because all we talk about in today’s geomorph class was climate change and how likely earth would experience ice age soon.

i was joking with R this afternoon, about hooking up with both NY boys during thanksgiving break. (in lieu of lugging my ass 24 hours on the bus back and forth to visit my dear bf. i know i’m a bitch. shoot me).
anyway, she gave me the ‘ewwwwwwww’ look when i mentioned the other boy, not mango. (note: hahha… all these initials thingy are driving me crazy. i need to devise a nomenclature system so i can actually understand whom i’m talking about the next time i read these posts)

and, she also told me that X (the agent i talked about in my previous post) asked her to convey to me that i should be wise – sexually, that is – because this boy "gets around a lot."
obviously R told her that: D’OH! probably about 60% of the guys here get around a lot too
to which X repeated her statement with extra emphasis (it’s actually more hilarious if you can imagine X’s face expression):

NO R, SERIOUSLY. when i say he gets around a lot, i mean: HE.DOES.GET.AROUND.A.LOT…

hang on a second,
can i get some statistics to back it up?
just so the fact is clear?
hahahhahahahha

but yah… all i can think is: no wonder he’s good at it
has plenty of flying time, eh???

seriously though, people are either giving me too much credit and thinking i look so innocent and hence i’m not a seasoned player, ... or they really think i’m a stupid, idiotic slut.
so to anyone who’s concerned about my health – physically and emotionally – thank you so much for your concern, but don’t worry coz i know how to take care of myself.
i know what kind of craaaaaaaaaaazy things i’m getting into when i decide to embrace the so-called ‘American college life’.

and now, i’m going to take a nice, warm bath (i’m so effin gross: i went straight to behavioral econ class right after training and haven’t showered until now) AND SLEEEEEEEp.

i’m so looking to thanksgiving because i’m so gonna satisfy my literary void. 

I think about how it might have been
We’d spend our days travelin’
It’s not that I don’t understand you
It’s not that I don’t want to be with you
But you only wanted me
The way you wanted me

So, I will head out alone and hope for the best
And we can hang our heads down as we skip the goodbyes
You can tell the world what you want them to hear
I’ve got nothing left to lose, my dear
So, I’m up for the little white lies
But you and I know the reason why
I’m gone, and you’re still there

I’ll buy a magazine searching for your face
From coast to coast, or whatever I find my place
I’ll track you on the radio
And I’ll sign your list in a different name
But as close as I come to you
It’s not the same

So, I will head out alone and hope for the best
We can pat ourselves on the back and say that we tried
And if one of us makes it big
We can spill our regrets
And talk about how the love never dies
But you and I know the reason why
I’m gone, and you’re still there

So, steal the show
And do your best to cover the tracks that I have left
I wish you well and hope you find whatever you’re looking for
The way I might’ve changed my mind
But you only showed me the door

So, I will head out alone and hope for the best
We can pat ourselves on the back and say that we tried
And if one of us makes it big
We can spill our regrets
And talk about how the love never dies
But you and I know the reason why

Rachael Yamagata 

I hope things won’t unfold this way…
funny how my bf is still the person who knows me best.
when i told him just now that i needed to cut the conversation short because i had to do my geomorph research, he quipped:

"i’m just worried that you’re seeing another guy, because you always act this way whenever you’re seeing other people behind my back.
you’re always busy, always distracted, not enough time for me, care about me less, and less likely to visit me.

although i’m not seeing anyone else, he’s actually right: i’m not devoted to him anymore.
in fact, i’m currently pulled towards all sorts of direction and i wonder how far can i be stretched before i eventually snap?

it seems that my recent hook-up is pulling his strings at my school to find out if i’m actually attached or not.
not that i didn’t expect this to happen knock sel’s head with squash racket, but now i feel like a total bitch, because instead of telling the truth and cut the ambiguity crap, i told his agent that i am  both attached and unattached.
as i said, open-but-seriously-committed.

argh. =(

sometimes i do wish that i can be a total bitch who doesn’t care about the impact of my actions on other people.
i love my bf a lot, but i can’t help it but wanting to know how it’d be like to be in a relationship with other people. and having known P for some time, i know i’ll have an interesting (in a good way) relationship with him.
this desire will of course sounds like a request of a spoilt brat, but i really think this is just another facet of my insatiable hunger for new, exciting, things.
how many of my friends have listened to my complaints about my overtly-stable relationship with wy, that reeks too much of boredom. it’s like you’ve finished the hardest level in your computer game and you’ve mastered all the tricks that all tt’s left is one long journey to the end of the game, which becomes more and more boring by the day.

plus, some things about him begin to irk me more by the day.
he doesn’t like the fact that i’m busy and he gets angry when i don’t have time for him and berates me for not taking his advice to take less course and drop squash.
on top of that, i’m tired of being his ego inflater.
his writing sucks, okay, and he finds it extremely hard to swallow constructive criticism from me.
i know i’m not a writing expert. i’m not even a native speaker; i’m actually ESL - english as second language  – student. but i think my grades speaks for the quality of my writing, while his papers’ grades speak for his.
so why can’t he just humble himself for one minute and realize that his writing can’t convey clearly his super-convoluted logic?

...

the thing i realize i like abt Mango (the new york boy, not the one I recently hooked up with. OMG so confusing, why am i involved with so many new york boys??) is that he never asks anyone to reconfirm his status – he doesn’t need other people to qualify him.
he never asks whether sex with him was good or not, whether my orgasm was one minute long or one minute and ten second long, whether he’s smart enough for me or not, whether i think he’s interesting or not, ... he just makes the statement and doesn’t care whether the other person thinks that way. sure he does sound boastful plenty of times, but he also exudes an alluring aura of confidence – of someone who knows exactly his place in life.

i like that. and i think a lot of women would appreciate it if their men are more grounded in that way.

also, that kind of self-assertive behavior saves me from being trapped in situations where i’ve to choose between confessing the ugly truth or speaking the soothing lie.

see… i wish i was more of a bitch, so i’d have no qualms about speaking the ugly and hurtful truths. i mean, my bf has no qualms about criticizing me with the harshest words he can find, so why can’t i do likewise?
i’m such a softie…......

current obsession: nouvelle vague 

today i want to write in crazy color.

and today i suck big time during scrimmage.
shona – for some crazy reason – paired me up with someone so totally not my level and let me get butchered 9-love for three games straight (well.. i think i managed to scrimp a 9-1 on one of the three humiliating games) , right after she saw me got mowed by my first opponent (who’s also a beginner).

it didn’t help either, the fact that we’re the last pair to play, and so everyone’s eyes were practically on us. there wasn’t much to watch, except for my floundering and missing the ball.
at that time i really feel like cracking my skull with my own racket.
you would too, after practicing for the past half-an-hour hitting nice and deep volleys and great serves and then flopped to level zero during the game.
was i intimidated? for sure.
i could feel my heart beating at 120 per minute and i could feel myself worrying the milisecond before i hit the ball.

BOLLOCKS!

i’m so amused by myself.
whatever, just train harder, and be better next time.
lalallala

sth silly from last night. x is the guy in my post last sunday.

x: how’s your intimidation technique coming along?
s: ha… forget it. i’m always the one who gets intimidated.
   plus, i’m so small. how can ppl get intimidated by me.
x: your opponent shd see you when you eat sausage, egg, and cheese!
   i still break into cold sweat everytime i think of that.
s: uuu.. you make me hungry. sausage, egg and cheese, double sausage please
x: oohhh. the flashbacks…, girl. the flashbacks!! it’s unbearable!!
s: wait.. is this supposed to be one of those AIM chats with sexual innuendos?