Going to a fashion show is more stressful than I thought.

Whaddup something pretty interesting actually happened so far in this supposed adventure blog.

So last week Raph’s dad got tickets to the Audi Fashion Fest so Raph and I went to one of the shows because I’d never been to an actual fashion show before. I thought I’d be excited or something, but then in the afternoon before I left for it I was a tragic mess of OMGIDONTKNOWWHATIMDOINGOMG

Stress Ordeal #1:

So I had a grand total of 2 possible dresses that befit the occasion yet both just didn’t feel good enough.

So since they both looked the same to me (ie equally horrible), I picked Dress 2 at random and left my house to meet Raph.

He still hadn’t changed yet when I reached the MRT near his house, so he got me first to go wait at his place instead.

 

So as usual, I won the comeback competition because that last statement of his was clearly soaked in defeat. He got changed and we went to the fashion fest an hr early. So since we had time to kill, we walked around the car showroom instead, and Raph got into a car.

Stress Ordeal #2:

I’ve never even been to a car show before so I kinda freaked out and I was all *loud whisper* OMGAWD WHAT ARE YOU DOING GET OUT THEY ARE GOING TO COME AND GET YOU when he went in, but he said we’re allowed to, and told me to get inside. All cars look the same to me so I really didn’t have much to say when he asked me what I thought about that one. There was a screen that popped up in front thingum (yes I don’t know what it’s called) when you pressed something, so I said ‘that’s cool’.

I said nothing else.

Ok I was feeling a lot more clueless than stressed here actually, but my cluelessness really stressed me out.

Then we ate some of the free food at the counter where the friendly dude was all ‘Just eat everything okay? Today very little people. Tapao also can.’

So i stood there eating shrimp and beef out of cups and spoons like I do that all the time.

Then the show was pushed back so we had to wait outside for it start, and while waiting we sat next to this really sweet couple at one of the seats and Raph started a conversation with them.

Stress Ordeal #3:

Raph’s really good at making complete strangers fall in love with him at first sight and stuff like that that help you become successful in life, and although it’s true that I don’t like talking to strangers unless it’s absolutely necessary (like it’s the first day of school and I have no friends or if I’m lost and google maps decides to fail on me), I’d like to think I’m not a complete loser at making small talk either. But I just pale so horribly in comparison to my boyfriend that whenever we’re together I feel this inherent need to pace with his god-level social skills, so I try really hard but somehow my efforts are forever futile and nobody wants to be my friend.

:(

(haha ok for the record they were really very sweet I think most people just generally don’t know what to say when I say I’m in art school.)

When the show started it was very surreal because I’d never seen anything like that before, but the glamour of it all was somehow pretty suffocating, and by the end of it my most exciting part of the night was probably that moment when I found free chocolate in the goodie bag.

Stress Ordeal #4:

#somethingonlyweknow I cannot tell you.

And so this is why I doubt I’ll be going to one of these things again anytime soon because as much as I think it’s pretty breathtaking to watch some of the most gorgeous people in some of the most gorgeous clothes I’ve ever seen all in a single place, it’s really too stressful and if I wanted to get some chocolate I could just go to the store.

Progress.

Yes I very efficiently stripped my floor clean today, and I found out that one of the bags next to my bed was a bag of shirts I brought to the tailor to get altered last week but hadn’t tried on.

So last week, I cleared out my wardrobe and split my clothes into
1) clothes I wanna keep,
2) clothes I wanna give away, and
3) clothes I wanna alter (although I swore this would be the last of it, because I am only gonna buy clothes that fit perfectly from now on. This saves me from reckless buy-and-regret shopping, and I don’t have to spend time altering them either, because I know I will not bother to.)

So I tried on my shirts (3 of the same shirt in different colours, they were sold in threes).

This is what happened last week:

   

20 minutes ago:

  

 

I actually liked those shirts. So moral of the story really, just buy clothes that fit perfectly.

P.S.
Funny how I started this blog thinking it will be filled with brand new exciting adventures, especially since holidays have started and there’s a higher chance of something magical happening, but here I am ranting about ever intriguing topics like packing my room and clearing out my wardrobe. Who knows, maybe next I’ll be musing upon my laundry exploits.

What is my life.

Passion begins in the bedroom.

I don’t mean this in any other way, but I just realized how much of a difference it makes to the way you feel about life when you wake up in the morning to either an ugly bedroom or a pretty bedroom.

So, I just moved back from hall after exams. This is roughly what my room looked like before that:

And this is what it looked like 4 nights ago when I moved back:

 *dog’s position varies and can be on any spot of (remaining) floor, but it is usually slotted into crevices that try to obstruct any form of human passage, such as example shown above.

Then I did the smartest thing right after the night of moving back, which was to go out of the house for 3 full days consecutively from morning-night. I only went to church in the morning today, but I came home in the afternoon and took a nap till night. So this is what my room looks like now, after 4 days:

 Yes I have been living this same dump the past few days.

I wake up in the morning to a tangible sea of misery and angst, so I escape it by leaving the house. Then I come back eventually to see the same sea but I am too tired to do anything about it and the mess itself discourages me further, so I attempt to sleep the angst away and the cycle repeats itself the next day, except the intensity of angst and negative feelings doubles with each new day.

It’s pretty hard to wake up and be excited about life when you’re living in a junkyard.

Ok yes cannot I need to stop procrastinating and feeling shitty about life I am going to pack my room tomorrow yes I am goodnight.

New Blog.

I was just wondering why I moved here. It was really just a spontaneous LEZGO move and I’m not too sure why either, but all I know is that this new blog is making me excited.

I think it was because I had this little spring break a few months back where I started dusting all the words in my head underneath this blue carpet in my brain and hence stopped blogging for a long time, but then I suddenly realize now that the carpet is no longer touching the floor because there’s too much shit sandwiched in between and some of the rubbish are actually gems but it’s too late because the carpet, the dust and the floor have all disappeared because they never existed anyway because they are metaphors.

I just wrote a really long sentence. (That possibly didn't even make any sense.)

So maybe because of that I thought I needed a little push to get me motivated to start talking to myself again. So i did that by giving me a new blog to get me excited, the way I’m excited when my prayer journal runs out of space and it gives me an excuse to go get a new pretty journal.

But of course blogs don’t run out of pages or wear out so I am going to pretend like they do and I’m now virtually getting myself a new notebook and new pair of sneakers and it feels awesome yEH.

And maybe I just wanted a new place to house my adventures. My old blog wasn’t cutting it because it’d somehow turned into a place where I’d tell of stories in a very carefully maneuvered way for someone else to see. I wasn’t writing for myself anymore and that built walls on my fingers I did not even realize, not until I slowly didn’t feel writing anymore.

So this move is in hope of building a place for adventures that I want to remember, for stories that I know I'll be happy telling, even to an invisible audience.

And so I think I've figured out why I moved.

Ah I’m in such a beautiful blessed new place, can’t wait for the rest of my life.