When I was younger, I was stupid enough to consider myself lucky because I never had ‘the talk’ with my mother. My sister was there to teach me the awkward life lessons of sex, and I picked up other things as I went along. But, oh, weren’t there things  I didn’t see coming? There were so many life lessons I now wish that my mum would have prepared me for.

You know about body image, heartache, depression and so on, but knowing is not enough to understand it – to feel it. As a teenager, we are living the worst and best years of our lives. We’re young, energetic creatures with a whole future ahead of us, but we live on intuition, melodrama and a hard education in the school of “life” – as our favourite dropouts commonly speak of. One minute, you’re laughing with your friends so hard that you cry, but then you’re crying yourself to sleep. How did that happen?

Well, I don’t want to live on a whim. I want to have known how cruel and sour people can be, that the good lose now and again, and that the most difficult person to love is yourself at times. I want to know how to cope when love slaps you in the face and when lust becomes a sordid hunt. And how about why people who were once a great asset in one’s life turn into alcoholics, bitches or lechers. For these, I would have given up a couple of hours to sit uncomfortably with my mother. Because, if I had known before, I could’ve tried harder to change it. 

The hard times make you who you are – fair enough. But that’s not always a good thing. When I reflect on the bus, or in the middle of the night, I’m always angry at myself. Why are you so paranoid? You need to  be then, then they’ll like you. You shouldn’t have let them talk to you like that, even though it’s true. You can be better, but you choose to fail. WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?

This is a harsh confession, I know. One of the hardest things anyone can do is stand up and say, ‘I hate myself.’ The other is to finally love yourself; I’m working on that one. I’ve been looking at this blog for a while, thinking about what I could make of it. Light hearted? Sarcastic? Witty? Critical? Caring? Educational? What I eventually came to decide was to take bits and bobs of all of these to form one aspect: honesty. 

If you don’t like me – then stop reading me. To avoid sounding like a Stalinist, I’m purging my life. You don’t want me around, then I most likely won’t want you either, at the end of the day. Sorry if this kicks some egos in the backside, but one thing my mother did tell me was not to bother with the people who hurt you. Sixteen yours, and I’m finally starting to learn this. Yes, hopefully this is the start of something… 

Aim For Next Week: Be nice to someone in an unexpected way. In this past week, I’ve dealt with so many bitches and assholes, but I know I could really do with it! So someone else must!

The sad thing is, I’m just as guilty of it as anyone else. I have been known to seek out the truth, and return completely dissatisfied with what I have discovered. Then again, I’m an extremely paranoid person, so most of the time, the truth ends up being better than I expect. But I’m a messed up person, and shouldn’t be considered a constant representative of the majority. 

I bring this up because I have had a number of ugly incidents concerning the damn ‘truth’ over the past couple of weeks. People opening up, people giving warnings, and people just letting things slip every now and again. I’ve even been threatened with what people believe is the ‘truth’. No, not blackmail, but something slightly more sinister. And, to obviously solve one problem, a truth must be matched with a truth. Therefore, it only makes sense that I present what I have on the table. After all, what else can the power of control over a blog for one day with a limited audience be used for except to proclaim such truths every now and again? So here comes my public statement. If this means nothing to you, then excuse me. If this does mean something to you, then you’ll understand what I’m saying.

I’m a flawed person. We’re all flawed people. Everyone has their mistakes, and – not to isolate other religions by stating this – we must all take up our cross and bear these errors of judgement in life. And I am prepared to do so. Through a folly that was not my own to begin with, I have been reduced to a source of scandal that I fear may do some damage. I hope to find that most of you are confused with what I am saying. Because you don’t really know what’s happening. That’s good, I like this. And I don’t intend on telling you, as that is a truth for another day. But what I will say is, talk what ever the hell you want. I give you a free pass to judge me as you will. After a pleasant chat the other day, I have decided that I am willing to accept the position in life that I seem to be doomed to take on. And I think that’s a fair bit more than a lot of people are prepared to do, don’t you? 

Indeed, I’m learning to move on. Let the wrath of whatever may come attack. Because, the other night I was thinking over it, and I thought desperately of how to act. And each time I thought of solution, it lead to “How?” and then, “I don’t know.” So I picked up the phone, and thought about who to call. And then I came with a sudden realisation: I had people to call. And I think I still would. Even if whatever harsh attack was thrown at me, I still feel as if I could pick up the phone. In addition, I think that’s all I need for this. The people you love are the most vital thing in the world.

That comes onto my next topic: those you love. I care deeply about the close people in my life, and they will always know this. And yes, I’ve recently been severely hurt by what I felt was a foul return of said affections. Humiliated, patronised and very well betrayed, I think it’s safe to say that it’s been a bumpy ride. But that’s the harsh truth in life: people hurt you. If you can say that you have always picked right, that you have never been scarred by a friend, or that you have never done so yourself, then you’re lying. People hurt other people. Who knows why, and I care not to ask, not wishing for the human race to belittle itself any further. But I know this much now. The people who you love and who love you will not always been your guardian angel. The people who know you the best can hurt you the most. But they come back, if they want to. If you really think that a good friend cares deeply about the friendship, then you should expect them to return. If not, then that’s another pain in life I’m willing to take. 

The truth hurts on the most part, ladies and gentlemen. It’s rare that you really find a ‘good truth’. One the won’t hurt somebody, or cause anguish. But they exist. The person on the other side of the room who’ll never say, ‘I love you’; the first people who realise that you made it; or just that one human who wants to know if they’ll ever have to guys to admit that they’re sorry. I know I’m guilty of all of these are more. 

So there seems to be a more sombre post for this week. You’ll have to excuse me for that – it just seems to be in my mood. Have a pleasant weekend, everyone, and I’ll be back next week. 

Aim For Next Week: Tell any ‘good truth’ you can think of. It can be quick and painless, but I think we all need a few nice surprises in our immediate future. Agreed? 

It was about Fro-Yo.

Now before you gape in shock at the above oxymoron, or make any immediate judgments about the cool rather unusual subject of my dream, I ask you to first listen to this scarring subconscious encounter.

I was buying fro-yo. I guess this was Yo Mama instead of Berry Good, because I only ordered two toppings for $40 instead of three. The specific TNC at which I purchased this cup of oral delight was much less important to me than the actual cup itself, clearly.

The shopkeeper was unpleasant, unlike Aileen from Berry Good. Once, she gave me extra fro-yo when I onsidered buying a second cup of ‘Indulge’. AND I got an extra stamp, which meant one less to go before I get a free cup of fro-yo using my Berry Good card. Yeah as you can see, we’re pretty tight, Aileen and I. But evil virtual Aileen wasn’t like that. She grouchily scooped the swirls of fro-yo into the cup, and the moment she was finished, I knew she was spooning too little. According to my experience, the tip of the swirl has to at least reach 5cm above the rim of the cup. This one didn’t even go beyond it. Fuming at the injustice of her rationing, I complained vociferously.

However, little did I anticipate that she would respond with further bitterness. She snapped, “What toppings do you want?” “Oreo bits.” I immediately replied. However, the oreo bits weren’t well grounded, so they fell like bat droppings on my elegant white swirls of yummyness. The sight was most disquieting. Letting go, I ordered my second topping.

Now, you have to understand this- I was dreaming. I wasn’t in control of my decisions. The dream dictated the course of events. Perhaps it was out of some inexplicable desire to try out something new, or perhaps I just simply lost my marbles. Either way, I didn’t pick strawberries. Strawberries and oreos. It’s ALWAYS strawberries and oreos. But no, before I knew it, my hand directed itself towards some nutty granola bits. And before I could come to terms with this horrific revelation, iLeen 2.0 (hahahah get it) had already shoved the flakes of annihilation into my helpless cup.

It was terrible.

What was even worse was that, I WOKE UP before I got to eat my fro-yo. MY VIRTUAL FRO-YO! VIRTUAL $40 WASTED ON FRO-YO LEFT UNEATEN! 

I wonder what fro-yo would taste like in dreams.

I’m gonna chime “fro-yo, fro-yo…” before I go to sleep tonight.

That’s right.

Before I knew it, the couple who lives on the floor above me were having a screaming match. I couldn’t make out the words, but the volume gave a distinct feeling as to what was going on. The woman was the most upset, screaming to her heart’s content, while the male was only shouting; that was, until there was one loud bang, to which I assumed that he was responsible. Then came the sobs. The woman cried something awful up until about half four in the morning – mixed in with some screaming, now and again. 

While listening to all of this, I couldn’t help but feel like my insides were churning. After all, what does one do in that situation? When I came out to ask my family if they heard it, they gave a negative reply and made me realise that my room was possibly one of the few places you could hear the scene, as they had mostly confined it to one spot. So what do you do? I definitely couldn’t sleep after that, tossing and turning for most of the night, still remembering the piercing sound of the woman’s cry. 

I apologise for starting with such a negative subject, but one of the worst things in the world to remember is that it’s such a sh*t place to live in. So what I’m trying to do is cheer you up with a few short things. Sadly, the previous night has made me insanely tired, so dedicating myself to one concept may prove to become difficult.

Halloween. What fun times. I had never really celebrated Halloween much back in the UK, since the areas around me were slightly dodgy, but before this one I have had two experiences of Halloween.

1) When I was about four, I went trick or treating as Snow White. A man dressed as a wolf informed me that he wanted to eat me. It was safe to say I was scarred for a number of years. 
2) Last year, I went to discovery bay as a chavvy school girl. OK, so I wore my old uniform and scraped my hair back. But you never know how much effort people are going to put into their costumes. After seeing other peoples, I felt quite bad for my lack of effort.

So this year, I decided to go all out.  Although the aim was to be a circus curator with a little ‘va va voom’, I ended up being a show girl. And I was quite excited about it. I found some fish net stockings with the garters and all and even had a little hat I had picked up with in Italy. When I tried it on in front of the mirror, I was quite pleased with myself. I even did the make up and everything. And, most importantly, all problem areas had been dealt with, so I felt I could walk around in piece. That was, until I realised the fatal flaw:

I would have to wear this in public.

Showing most of your thigh may not cause any problems when you’re modelling your outfit in front of the mirror, but it’s quite different when you have to walk past your family and lots of little children to get to your taxi. Fortunately, my great uncle John – who is now in his eighties – is a gordie and didn’t take any offence in it.  And the children seemed fine to. It was the parents, at this point. It took a lot of waiting until one of them got the courage to be civil with me and not give that look that says, ‘You better not encourage my six-year-old to have intercourse,’ which I just think ruins the whole spirit of this holiday. You’re supposed to encourage everyone to have intercourse. I mean, are you… right? 

So the night went on, and some positive encouragement helped me stay pretty much on balance – despite the one person I knew who laughed. While momentarily offended, I recalled the fact that I laugh at him after almost every time we meet, so I went on. On the experience, I once again learnt that none of you actually plan to live, by the amounts of candy you received. And apparently most of the candy was gone by the time we actually began. Shocker!

On my final note on Halloween, I’m looking for a Hermione Granger for next year. I’ve got a Harry, a role I’ve taken on, and a Ron, but the final people I asked wanted to be Draco and Dumbledore, as opposed to Hermione. If you are interested, don’t speak up since I probably didn’t have you in mind. Just kidding… Perhaps. 

So I actually ended up wanting to round this blog up quite quickly – do forgive me for once again adding length. One more things I want to do though is recommend two songs to you, because I’m pretty much addicted to them. 

1) Heartache Tonight – Michael Bublé
2) Let’s Give Them Something To Talk About – Bonnie Raitt.

Aim For Next Week: Give a hug to someone. Even just hearing that argument made me want to crawl into someone’s arms.  You know how much I want to promote love on this, and today’s no different. 

P.S The man’s begun shouting again, and It’s mid day. Get moving, huggers!

Power suspension on 28 Oct 2009, 9.00 – 17.00

9.10: Woke up because it was too warm – no air conditioning
9.15: Attempted to switch on the light in the toilet
9.20: Electrical powered water heater = no hot water for shower
9.30: Happy that laptops use battery power
9.30: Forgot the modem and router require electricity… no internet
9.31: Again, attempted to switch on the light in the toilet
9.35: Watched brother as he attempted to switch on the light in the toilet
10.30: All family members awake – all jealous of my laptop
11.00: Gave up on life without electricity – went out.

17.30: Returned home, switched on the computer, switched on the air conditioning, took a shower

Sounds like a day without electricity is rather depressing. But it is probably the modern world we are living in that makes electricity so important. We can live without air conditioning, without hot water, or maybe even without a computer (please… you must understand the importance of computers in my life). Or if we lived in caves and relied on the burning of twigs to keep warm or to illuminate our shelters, electrical outages would be the least of our concerns.

Ah, the plot thickens. 

You attempt to decipher it. Was it a look of desire? Did you choose the wrong outfit? Or, was it just a coincidence, like it was you seeing him/her in the first place, and you’ve become a paranoid loser, locking you and your counterpart into an eye-contact tango that may never cease? 

What, have you never had that? 

I have, and it’s one of the most aggravating experiences on the planet. Never does one feel so vain, and yet so insecure at the same time. And, most of the time, it is just that two poor people have made eye contact by some weird twist of fate. But I suppose that just shows the human brain, doesn’t it? 

Well, I mentioned in my last entry that I would go into that scenario in more detail, and there we go. I would go into even more depth, but that would just turn into more sentimental bullshit. And, while I very much enjoy it, sometimes it may push other people too far. 

So, as you’ve probably not noticed, I’ve actually written this blog in advanced and scheduled it for lift off. That is because today, as you are reading it, and assuming you’re reading it on Sunday 18th October, I’m in Italy. Yes, Italy. Sweet, sweet Italy. The land of culture, the renaissance, religion etc. I also heard they’ll be cute boys and shopping, but this was only mentioned in passing. The point is that this means that I can’t exactly pick out something that I’ve been thinking about over the week, so I decided to do something different instead. Which, apparently, will be fun.

This is just something where you’ll get to know me better. I have this thing, you see, where I connect memories with songs. For the next 10 songs on my iTunes shuffle, I shall place it on here, and tell you a memory to do with it. If I don’t actually have a memory, then I’ll naturally skip. So it’s the next 10 most significant songs. I think. Well here it is:

1. Bubbly – Colbie Caillat: The sci-fi drama, Doctor Who. The first time I heard this song was watching a video a friend sent me of the 9th Doctor and Rose. They’re the most adorable couple. Anyway, this song always reminds me of them, the lighter part of the ‘relationship’ anyway. So that was dorky.

2. What Are You Waiting For? – Gwen Stefani: Being twelve (?) with my sister. My sister found a download site – this was before we had decent internet and the actual ability to find decent download sites – and we got the music video for this. There’s about a nine minute intro to the original one. I remember it was one of the few songs we listened to back then. I wasn’t really able to buy music, and we only got like a few videos on the Windows Media Player. 

3. Sail Away – David Gray: A sentimental one – and you should be honoured that I’m sharing this with you. I had just shared a ride with someone I was very fond of about a year back. I came home practically in delirium, to which my mother kept asking, ‘Why are you so happy?’ and then commanding Molly to ‘get her to tell you why she’s so happy.’ I then strolled into my room and played this song at full blast. There’s nothing like David Gray to feed a longing for love. I told you I going to get the ones with memories. No skipping here.

4. Hey Sexy Lady – Shaggy Ft. Sean Paul: Told you: no skipping. This reminds me of getting ready for a night out. I always found that I’d have to give myself a confidence boost, since you’re never gonna get pulled if you mope around the place. Sooo the result was simple: dance around to ‘sexy’ music. Embarrassing, I know, but it actually works. Nothing gets hips moving more than this genre.

5. A House Is Not A Home – Brook Benton: Lazy Sunday evenings at home with my family when I was younger. This also applies to songs like Two Shots. These are just oldies that my parents would play in the living room, and I usually could still hear it from upstairs. Oddly enough, it got me really interested in old songs. I used to imagine myself singing to the song – yes, it is a man singing, but is that really the point? It always makes me feel cosy, because it reminds me of being younger and happier. Damn it, there’s the sentimental crap again!

6. Sitting On The Dock Of A Bay – Otis Reading: Car drives with my mum. She used to put on Magic FM, and I secretly never minded. As I said in my previous posts, I actually like old songs. I remember this was one of my favourites. I particularly remember this when I went to one of my primary schools – Hampton Court House – because I would be with George, and he would try to whistle at one part. To be fair, I wasn’t any better at it. 

7. Against All Odds – Phil Collins: MOVIE MOMENT! Sorry, but there’s another thing with me and music. I like to day dream, and I often see movie scenarios. In this scene, one member of the romance would be alone in the rain, but the fog will clear after the chorus, and then you see the other one. This would result in a reunion of the two. (AWWWW) 

8. Man I Feel Like A Woman – Shania Twain: Another me and my sister thing when we were younger. For this, we actually attempted to ACT OUT a music video. We’d steal the washing-up gloves from the kitchen (it makes sense in more detail) and dance around the place. I think there may even have been a dance involved, but I’ve forgotten it now. To this day, I still do the head toss when the background voice goes ‘uh!’ in the first verse. 

9. From Paris To Berlin – Infernal: Working on a fake advertisement for ‘D Grade’ in Year 9. I was sitting on the bus ride to a friend’s house from school, and the friend I was sitting next to introduced me to the song. She was v. much into that kind of music. She also introduced me to artists like DJ Boonie, though I think she’s much more into hardcore grime than anything. Still, I remember bopping around the place.

10. Sooner Or Later – Doreen Lundy: MOVIE MOMENT. This would be in a period drama – as it was a song from the 40s. The two main characters would be dancing in the living room alone. This is where one of them realises that they love the other – though the other won’t know it yet. They would move closer, not even thinking about the fact that the guy would have to get shipped off to fight the good fight. 

So you guys have seen a much dorkier side of me. Ah well, enjoy it! x

Aim For Next Week: Make a good memory. It’s discovery week, so MAKE THE MOST OF IT! I’d hate to think of you coming back with regrets and sorrow.

This would’ve been an inspiring post detailing the grueling yet gratifying victory of our hockey match (have you noticed that many of my posts begin like this? hmmm), except we didn’t really have one. SIS refused to show – too intimidated by our continuous losing streak, perhaps? – so we had a satisfying 3-point, 5-goal walkover. Although we did play a friendly match versus DGS, winning 6-0 in under twenty minutes. That’s right. With 8 players infield. Everything’s down there on the match card (or … not), and it feels damn good to win for once.

But anyway, back to my original point; this isn’t going to be a post about hockey. Instead, I thought I’d blog about another love of mine – and further contribute to the growing Food category at the same time.

After that hockey match, we took a $88 cab down to Pier 3, and, subsequently, to the Circle-K nearby. Hannah marched right down to the magazine section, while I browsed around and wandered over to the ice cream freezer. That’s when I saw it – the ice cream pancake.

Now, I don’t think anyone currently reading this will fully grasp the intensity of this revelation. So, to do you all a favour, I did a quick Google search for ‘ice cream pancake’ – only to reveal pages upon pages full of useless images like the following:

Don’t let your mouth water yet. Pathetic. Seriously, what is that?

No. My pancake was more like this:

A sandwich with two pancakes is clearly superior, no? I think the sparkles in particular set it off nicely.

I tapped out about six texts calmly explaining the situation to Charmaine and Graeme. To be honest, it was cheap and didn’t even taste that good – but that’s beside the point. THE POINT is that, well, most people (myself included) would be happy with your everyday ice cream sandwich. But no, some mastermind out there didn’t think it was good enough and contrived a variation – in the form of a PANCAKE – in retaliation. Good on you, dodgy Chinese company.

Random quote on the ferry this evening:

I actually have a few addictions like these. Let me explain:

• High Heels: You can go on all you want about the bad things it could do to my feet, or the impracticably, but I’m buying them. They are like works of art to me, they make my legs look longer, and it can make an entire outfit. As for the pain, well my feet haven’t been aware of blisters until the shoe comes off since 2004/5. No big deal…

• Friends: When you get in a fight with a friend, you automatically aren’t speaking to them until one or the other apologises. And, unless it’s just plain obvious, you never think it’s your fault (with me it usually isn’t – shut up). Still, you can’t help but think of a joke you know they’d like, or a piece of gossip that really only means something to them, or an update on a secret you’ve hardly told anyone. Suddenly, the problem seems like such a small issue. But you have your pride. After a certain point, you find it hard to apologise, even when you know full well you’re in the wrong now/you realise you actually don’t really give a sh*t about what they’ve done. Painful days goes by until finally you sit next to them, and the awkward small-talk-followed-by-emotional-chit-chat can begin.
• Chocolate in a bad mood: You hate the calories, and the good stuff is bloody expensive. But, for women anyway, it’s been proven to trigger some of the same chemicals and hormones in the body as sex. In other words: it makes us feel f*cking good. The taste of that good stuff is divine, and when you’re mending a wounded heart while watching a tearjerker, it really is the cherry on top. That’s probably why most people walk over to Wellcome when they’re pissed off, even though they lose their nerve – for fear of losing cash/appearing to eat too much – and go for water and some haribo, for the adventurous ones, that is. 
• Gossip: From one of my previous blogs, you know I do like to gossip, regardless of the dangers. People blab, Chinese whispers can form, and – worse of all – something about you could be spreading. Me, I usually find that most of the gossip is bullshit about me. I’m one of those people who has the average stuff heightened, and the good stuff never revealed to the public. I suppose I can thank my amazing friends, for keeping their lips sealed so well. Well, I hope I can. Same went for my sister. A quick runner from Heathrow airport (which actually only involved her looking to see no-one was there, and speed walking out of the place) turned into a pregnancy scare, and engagement, and a studded boy on a motorcycle. But that in itself was fun to gossip about. And obviously there’s good gossip. 
• Men: OK, I was on-and-off about writing this. It seems that we can’t directly talk about it, but I’ve decided to. After all, it’s one of the female gender’s biggest addictions. In fact, it is the female gender’s biggest addiction. The straight ones with hormones who have not had sex yet, anyway. Crushes are dominant, and they’re painful. And the fact is – not wanting to isolate any male readers – you’re all bloody idiots. But somehow, our hormones are saying that we should be attracted to men, and so we are. Therefore, women are doomed to spend eternity going, ‘What the f*ck just happened there?’, ‘And I like this guy?’ etc. 

OK, I was planning on rounding it off there. But the new-found liberation of being able to talk about this taboo subject – you don’t realise how long women have been hiding this conversation from you – I’m free. Free to moan and rant. Because my blog just wouldn’t be the same without some ranting. 

Because of this new found freedom, I have compiled two more lists. Get ready, boys, because this is for you. Women, feel free to nod a long while playing angsty/romantic songs – depends on your mood.

1. WHAT MEN SHOULD KNOW:

• We’re hypocrites. On the one hand, we talk about this new generation where women can ask out men, blah blah blah. But, most of us anyway, have tried out this business of telling men how we feel, and attempting to be the dominant one of a relationship. And you know what? Most of the time, it sucks. So, now we have the wisdom, we’ve naturally gone back to the old way. Animal instinct, really. Plus, it shows that if you’re committed to asking us out, you’ll be more committed to the relationship. So, if you fancy a girl, chances are she’ll say nothing at this point. 
• The eye contact problem. This is a real big issue. Yes, if a girl makes eye contact with you a lot, it probably does mean that she likes you. However, if a girl catches you looking at her, the glances that follow could be us double-checking whether or not you’re looking at us. Girls are naturally insecure creatures. Don’t give me this bullshit about how you’re confident with yourself. If there is nothing  that you’re worried about, then you’re not human. So someone looking at us can be unnerving. So, don’t be a cocky git parading about the place about how we like you, because you could end up looking like a complete prick. If you like the eye-contact and want more, there’s only one thing to do, isn’t there? Refer to previous point & I intend on going more into the eye contact thing at a later date. 
• It’s not you, it’s your friends. One of the sole reasons for breaking up with a boy is how we see them in front of their friends. You’re sweet and funny when you’re alone, but then you hang out with your guys and all of a sudden, a nastier and more immature side comes out. We’re not telling you to leave your friends, but it does piss us off. When we hang out with you, we want the you you, just to know what we’re actually getting. We’re not into skitsos, and we’re not going to put up with it for ever. If you don’t think you can commit to that, how can you commit to a relationship? 
• The swearing and shouting is not cool. I know this is slightly hypocritical of me, but there’s a huge difference between using the f word frequently, and yelling on about ‘pussies’ etc. On that note, ‘pussies’ has to be one of the most disgusting words in my mind. It’s ruined the safe meaning for me. If you want to talk about it, how much you wank etc etc, you don’t need to do it where all can here. We don’t go shouting about who likes cock, do we? Though whether or not that would actually offend you, I’m not too sure of. 
• Just to address my first point again. Playing hard to get is fun in the first couple of weeks/month, but after that, it gets real old. If you want us, DO SOMETHING FOR F*CKS’S SAKE. You know what, screw the asterisks, this is more important. FUCKING DO SOMETHING! I don’t think you realise how often some girls hang around each other trying to read you. Then you have a whole load of mates telling the girl that he blatantly likes her, but she’s there going, ‘What the fuck?’ For Pete’s sake, I’ve seen some of you go on ledges that could lead to serious injuries, but you won’t go a girl and ask her if she wants to go to the cinema after a year of doting? You know what? Give us your testicles, if you’re not going to use them.
• That stupid laugh we loathe so much, is called a giggle. When a girl likes a boy, it is an inevitable fact that we will giggle at least once. It’s us trying to change our voice from our usual laugh to a more attractive one, even though it fails most of the time. Do not judge our giggle, but accept it, and move on. 
• We like to get your attention through clothing, makeup and hair. Once in a while, a stinking compliment wouldn’t hurt anyone. 
• Teasing, is a good thing. To a certain extent. We don’t just tease the ones we like, since we’d be kinda screwed there. But the play fights, the arm hitting, the ‘shut ups’ because we’ve forgotten how to make up a witty argument. These are all good signs. We’re not being mean to you. We just find it cute when you get embarrassed. Because it is. It’s friggen adorable, actually. There, I said it! 
• However, teasing can hurt. As we said, we’re insecure creatures. If you start saying something, and we look put off, stop immediately. Doesn’t matter whether you have a crush on said girl, or not. If we start talking in a serious voice, and aren’t being playful anymore, it means you’re pushing it. We would do the same for you, it’s just something to think about. 

2. WHAT WOMEN WOULD LIKE TO KNOW:

• Why do you guys find toilet humour funny, even to this day? I thought I’d just throw that one out there. 
• How can a girl tell that a boy likes them? We can discuss it all we like, but frankly I’m getting kind of fed up, so I’m addressing that one to you.
• Once and for all: what was on that fucking list? (Only GSIS boys really apply to this one). We’ve tried not to care, but every conversation on the matter goes like so:

Person 1: You hear about the guys making that list where they rated the girls?

Person 2: I know it’s so pathetic. I mean, to judge women like that. And they think they’re impressive for it.

Person 1: I know.

*Pause*

Person 2/1: But I really want to know where I came.

Other person: Yeah… 

• When you watch Megan Fox, do you actually pay any attention to her acting? 
• When you ask a girl out, why do you hardly ever make it obvious that you are actually asking us out? What’s with all the ‘Yeah, we should hang out some time…’ I don’t think you realise how much it affects our outfit choice. 
• If you could be one animal, what would it be?  What really happens in the PE changing rooms? Because for some reason, explanations in the past always leads to some kind of homoerotic ending. Don’t ask why, it just does.
• The secret of your fast metabolism. We want it. 
• Again, to the GSIS boys. Girls, I’m going in for one of our greatest mysteries here. So, you guys really physically CAN’T not play basketball at least once a day? Because, I’m not going to lie to you, we’re slightly lost. It’s not that you’re not – all – good, it’s just that we wonder sometimes whether some of the things you do IS trying to be impressive, but it kind of… well… fails.
• On that note. Why does everyone have to ‘own’ everyone? Where did that saying even come from? 
• Again, on that note. You do realise that you sound really cocky when you say it, yes? We’re just checking. 
• Older women. Myth or fact? 
• Do you do your own shopping? I know that  it’s moved onto fun stuff, but I’m curious. Because you guys seem to be very anti shopping and styling – most of your outfits tell us so – but it must happen form time to time? 
• If you could be one animal - A classical novel you like? Just name one, and we’ll leave you alone. 

I’m going to stop there, seen as I’ve made my longest blog so far. My final words on the matter – before the aim, anyway – will be a quote I found fairly interesting.

“The man who can smile when things go wrong has thought of someone else he can blame it on.” -Robert Bloch

OK, that’s not the quote, but you have to admit, it’s a good one.

“What’s with you men? Would hair stop growing on your chest if you asked directions somewhere?” -Erma Bombeck

No, seriously this time: 

“I don’t know why women want any of the things men have when one the things that women have is men.” – Coco Chanel

Aim For Next Week: One romantic act. It doesn’t have to be something significant but men, give us hope. Women, just do it to see if they notice!

Till next week x

For those of you who haven’t been, the room itself is rectangular with an exposed layout. On one side there’s an open kitchen and a small staff’s area; on the other, tables, chairs, and sofa corners are neatly positioned. A tall shelf brimming with boardgames separates the two.

The den radiates a homely feeling. The furniture is warmly wooden, the kitchen waiting for our visit, the staff in casual street attire. It was as if we’d been invited over for a housewarming. We quickly leaked into the main space, occupying the central tables and selecting several games in the process. Lovely.  

Menus were passed around, comfort drinks were the “thing” and several home-craftable snacks were also offered. Prices were in their 20′s and 30′s but we learnt that the cover charge of HK$45 pp / first hour + HK$5 / every extra 30 minutes entailed a free drink under HK$30. The beverages all turned up in large cavernous glasses; exactly the portion a homemade comfort drink would have been greedily made at.

We left on high spirits. Or at least I’d like to think. The bill ended up being ~HK$55 each but the cafe had made it well worth it. There’s also a great dim-sum restaurant down the road but I forgot about that until I passed by on the taxi home bound.

Let’s go again, soon

On a side note, La Tale is a very awesome game. Yes it is. It’s like Maplestory, except cuter and OGPlanet isn’t as money-hungry as Nexon. You should go download it and play right now. Mhm.

watch?v=OuSdU8tbcHY

watch?v=zxp3-kR3b_4

watch?v=nojWJ6-XmeQ

watch?v=zKAW96N-Vms

Lil is probably gonna get on my arse about this post. OHWERLZ.