The package finally arrived! After close to three weeks of relentless anticipation and impatience, it came! I feel blessed for having someone with decent tastes in the purchases. There were no rude surprises. The gifts were all sweet and simple chic that I could not fault, and that matters because I am superficial like that. Please do not gag, perhaps it’s the euphoria, but I currently feel the need to personally model the clothes that T. got me from H&M in my UK size 10 -12 self when they are all clean and ironed, but of course, currently to me is but a fleeting adverb thus, when all the apparel have been lovingly placed in my wardrobe, by then, pictures of the gifts themselves might simply suffice. The following is part I of the bundle of affection.
And as if it cannot get any more blatant with all the larger-than-life calendars, the year is coming to an end and for the first time in many, many, years, I will probably be spending New Year’s Eve at home. To a handful of people, New Year’s Eve is just another overrated day of the year so that we can over consume, get drunk and have an excuse to kiss the next beautiful stranger that comes along the way but I guess as much I want to rebel against conforming and think I can probably celebrate New Year’s Eve come March 16th 2010, in my hearts of hearts, I just want to be part of that festive picture instead of living it up at home. Don’t get me wrong. I love spending time at home, but I guess 31.09.2009 is not the most apt of days to be parked on the settee, drinking tea with the mother in front of Channel 55, then again, it just might be. In any case, Merry 2010 to you and you!
P.S: Somewhere in the blogosphere, I discovered this gem and in my opinion, it’s the blog epitome of “Quiet is the new loud, this is how it goes…”. Heart and inspiration. Props.
Come Tuesday, and I’ll be officially jobless for a good 3 1/2 months, however, I have to inform you that I was in London on holiday for the earlier 2 1/2 so technically, I’ve only been job hunting fervently for the past month. And for the past month, every time I send out a resume, I can feel beads of sweat running down my forehead. Evaporation, you come in so handy. To my credit, I have been under voluntarily house arrest since my return, primarily because it’s all about dollars and sense. It’s only wise to stay at home when you lack the funds. Word. Of course, in my world, house arrest is altogether another definition, as I have since been heading out at most four times a week, spending money from the contingency fund, and throwing the due dagger stare and frown at passengers that I suspect to be giving out potent farts that smelled of rotten cai po. For the love of Ali Baba, please seek help from a dietitian and meanwhile, kindly avoid public transportation, merci.
In other news, as I continue to be a verbal Zorro swashbuckling the various insensitive, intense and incessant remarks on being jobless from the mum, she was generous enough to sponsor me a fancy pair of footwear from Camper for the cousin’s wedding. Woot! My I-love-you-and-sometimes-I-hate-you-but-most-of-the-time-I-love-you relationship with her. And, and, and!, I. Dig. My. Brogues.