And so I await another sleepy meeting.
Which means that's it's highly likely that I will end up blogging again tomorrow in my half dazed, why-do-I-even-do-this-job look. Well it's not a job, in the end- it's an OBLIGATION. As so often I do need to remind myself that I did willingly enslave myself to this, and I do need to remember the many good times I've had carrying out the tasks given by this particular obligation.
Among many other things that have happened this week, including the very interesting chopping off of my hair- a delightful feeling, again, to have my neck free of my own tresses. I think long hair was getting tiring and old to me, because I'd grown tired of the general swishiness and flick-flack motion of it- I suddenly desired to cool my neck off and get my hair off my shoulders. Thus, back to the 13 Year-old Me who had this wonderful shiny little bob thing that hugged my face and exerted imaginary, slimming properties. It of course gave me time to think about how different I look now, and how different my life is in retrospect. One thing I do not regret doing, while growing up, is keeping journals (much like this) and writing stories about times when I would be 16, 17, 18- hardly ever beyond that.
As a child, I figured these my best years in life, and endeavour not to stray from them. Even know, there's a little bit in my mind that wishes maybe I could just stay 17 forever, and yet in 3 months or so (two and a couple of days, honestly) I will be turning 18, and frankly it's not as fantastic as I thought. I grew up in an age where the television was the dominant thing, and having cable opened up a whole new world of American Culture into my otherwise mundane existence. I blame these thoughts and other wild ideas on American Television that came through the black box of happiness- also known as the Starhub cable box (now it supplies me with the History and Discovery channel- bless them.)
Around the age of 7, I much preferred to be blonde rather than brunette. At the moment, I still think I make a decent blonde- and that's swell. At 7, I imagined that perhaps someday maybe my daddy would get a fancy job that would let us move to the big apple, and I'd attend a private all-girl's school with the swishy skirts- Progress further into that year of my life and it becomes Mixed-school + Dorm thing, something I still kind of want now. I imagined myself a ton more flexible and athletic, in the form of cheerleading (imagine that. What a crisis..) and the popular, somewhat pretty kid. And Look what I am now.
I apologize to my childhood self for being a complete, utter disappointment- but I have made my life unique and special in many ways, and as fulfilling as I had hoped for. I've never desired the life of the wild and free (well I'm lying- I have in my own ways, but I imagine myself much happier at home with a hot cup of chocolate and good christmas albums.), neither do I have an intense need for adventure (I can't even rock climb, for christ's sakes- what adventure?!), but do desire one that is warm, and extremely happy.
And I think I'm not there yet, but maybe, I'll get there soon. Like really soon. I mean, I don't have much lacking right now, I'm comfortable and very well fed, and surrounded by people who clearly care more than I could ever hope for. And I'm thankful in many ways. Maybe all I'm missing the one person who would hold me dear the eternity and beyond, but when it boils down to that it's a trimming on the cake- so not a priority.
Christmas Songs playing in the background make me pensive.
Perhaps tomorrow I'll be more coherent and actually talk about something interesting (I'm so sorry)
xoxo
Among many other things that have happened this week, including the very interesting chopping off of my hair- a delightful feeling, again, to have my neck free of my own tresses. I think long hair was getting tiring and old to me, because I'd grown tired of the general swishiness and flick-flack motion of it- I suddenly desired to cool my neck off and get my hair off my shoulders. Thus, back to the 13 Year-old Me who had this wonderful shiny little bob thing that hugged my face and exerted imaginary, slimming properties. It of course gave me time to think about how different I look now, and how different my life is in retrospect. One thing I do not regret doing, while growing up, is keeping journals (much like this) and writing stories about times when I would be 16, 17, 18- hardly ever beyond that.
As a child, I figured these my best years in life, and endeavour not to stray from them. Even know, there's a little bit in my mind that wishes maybe I could just stay 17 forever, and yet in 3 months or so (two and a couple of days, honestly) I will be turning 18, and frankly it's not as fantastic as I thought. I grew up in an age where the television was the dominant thing, and having cable opened up a whole new world of American Culture into my otherwise mundane existence. I blame these thoughts and other wild ideas on American Television that came through the black box of happiness- also known as the Starhub cable box (now it supplies me with the History and Discovery channel- bless them.)
Around the age of 7, I much preferred to be blonde rather than brunette. At the moment, I still think I make a decent blonde- and that's swell. At 7, I imagined that perhaps someday maybe my daddy would get a fancy job that would let us move to the big apple, and I'd attend a private all-girl's school with the swishy skirts- Progress further into that year of my life and it becomes Mixed-school + Dorm thing, something I still kind of want now. I imagined myself a ton more flexible and athletic, in the form of cheerleading (imagine that. What a crisis..) and the popular, somewhat pretty kid. And Look what I am now.
I apologize to my childhood self for being a complete, utter disappointment- but I have made my life unique and special in many ways, and as fulfilling as I had hoped for. I've never desired the life of the wild and free (well I'm lying- I have in my own ways, but I imagine myself much happier at home with a hot cup of chocolate and good christmas albums.), neither do I have an intense need for adventure (I can't even rock climb, for christ's sakes- what adventure?!), but do desire one that is warm, and extremely happy.
And I think I'm not there yet, but maybe, I'll get there soon. Like really soon. I mean, I don't have much lacking right now, I'm comfortable and very well fed, and surrounded by people who clearly care more than I could ever hope for. And I'm thankful in many ways. Maybe all I'm missing the one person who would hold me dear the eternity and beyond, but when it boils down to that it's a trimming on the cake- so not a priority.
Christmas Songs playing in the background make me pensive.
Perhaps tomorrow I'll be more coherent and actually talk about something interesting (I'm so sorry)
xoxo
Comments
Post a Comment