Birds of A Feather

So I woke up one fine morning in my hotel room, with my hair wrapped around half of my face and my eyes all swollen from crying late at night (feeling for fictional characters'll do that to you). As I padded groggily to the powder room to splash cold water on my face, a snippet of conversation flew to my ears. Stupid me had fallen asleep with the television blaring away. I was going to ignore it and close the door, but then I heard a familiar name - Jamie Lynn Spears.

"Must be some Britney thing." I mumbled to myself. Then suddenly, my brother flew in. 'omg have you seen the news?! britney's sister is pregnant! you know, jamie something spears!' He grinned as he saw my mouth fall open. 'you haven't! but the tv's turned to cnn. wait, did you fall asleep with the tv on again?! i'm telling!' I ignored him and turned to the television, but as luck would have had it, I'd missed it. 'You're lying.' I informed him. "JLS doesn't have a boyfriend. She said so during Thanksgiving.' 'i know what i heard, sis. she's pregnant." I brushed him off and left to wash my face.

Later that day, I spat out a mouthful of tea in a cafe, nearly spraying an old man and his French toast, because there was a huge article in the papers about JLS and her 'mistake'. "Twas true! She's pregnant!" I yelled, amidst angry glares and whispers. 'i told you so,' my annoying brother chanted. My parents were kind enough to announce their opinion to everyone listening. 'kids these days. always getting into some sort of trouble.' 'why when i was a kid...'

Then everyone at the table got into a discussion on pre-marital and teenage sex. Which made for a very uncomfortable brunch because all the adults would keep hmming and nodding at me, as if I was going to give birth at any minute.

However, the breaking point was when a horse-like lady brayed angrily that teenagers were getting too much freedom nowadays and whinnied embarrassing questions at me. 'and how about you?! have you done it?!' I shook my head, then grinned sweetly at her. "How about you?" My brother and I then proceeded to cackle like hyenas at her purple face. Of course, our parents were less than amused and gave us a good scolding later, but I think it was worth it.

BB called me up later and we talked about JLS amongst other things for a while, and she asked me if we were the last teenagers on earth who'd not had sex. Now this stunned me because I'd never thought of that, so we spent a good bit of time discussing other friends and their 'chastity'. And this leads me to the question.

Are there really so few people who'll only have sex after marriage?

Bleh, this subject gives me a headache so lets move on.

So the shopping here is excellent but terribly expensive. And I wandered around malls trying to pretend that I had money, because everyone here is super rich and all. Which really doesn't work when you're a 17 year old dressed in MNG and Zara while they're adults in Gucci and Miu Miu. I swear on chainsaws that the security guards eyed me suspiciously the whole day. Mainly because I was drooling over bags outside Chanel, and had my face pressed against the display window for about half an hour. ChanelILoveYou!

Since it was so close to Christmas and everything, loads of people were doing their last minute shopping. And two days ago was a holiday, so the malls were just packed full of mad mad shoppers running for the nearest stores. And OMG they were lining up outside of Louis Vuitton because too many people wanted in at the same time. Can you imagine? And a nice saleslady told me that they were running out of stock because people wouldn't stop buying stuff. I felt so poor and alone, I must admit, because everyone that day was holding a designer carrier bag and I was the sole person carrying a plastic bag from a bookstore. With only a pen inside. Can you imagine?!

Then my dad's friends decided to go to some posh restaurant for dinner and it was awful. It was really cold and I'd forgotten to bring a cardigan, and when I sat down on the icy hard chairs, my behind froze instantly. The menu was a carnivore's dream, but I'm a vegetarian. Then, when I asked if the garden salad was safe to eat, the maitre'd eyeballed me like I was a piece of fungus, then replied coldly that the sauce had anchovies and did I consider them to be meat? Yes, yes I did. And I told him that, so he sniffled and said that he could ask them to whip something up, but his expression told me that he'd like to whip me instead. Fearing that he'd tell the chef to spit in my soup or something, I declined. When he wasn't looking, I whispered my order to my mother, and minutes later, dug into a humongous banana split, much to the disdain of the others. 'why on earth are you having dessert first? oh, no meatless dishes? such a picky child.' I ignored them and happily enjoyed my ice-cream, which was really good.

It's also been raining a lot here, and I've taken to carrying an umbrella around (pink with butterflies!) because the first day I went out, I came back looking like a drowned rat. My shoes have been utterly worn out because I walk a lot, so I tried searching for new ones. But predictably, I failed. The salesladies kept trying to force heels onto my feet, especially stilettos, their excuse being that my legs would look fantastic in them. That changed when I nearly took down one of them with me. Their flats were incredibly expensive and few, that I gave up after ten stores.

Pedro Garcia, why must you taunt me?

Ooh and the streets are filled with things to buy and see. I loved singing along with all the carolers, they even stood in the pouring rain. And loads of charities have lined up along the sidewalks with their little donation booths. Santas are walking everywhere, and it's very awesome to see little kids stare in awe when they pass by. I lovelovelove it at night when all the fairy lights and decorations are lit up, it's so gorgeous! There are plays and skits and sketches everywhere, loads of shows are put up every single night. And there are no repeats! Isn't that just fantastic? I mean, I love the fact that you can pop out for coffee and stand in line while watching them sing and dance on temporary stages, then catch another show outside your favourite doughnut store. And they've got little candy houses everywhere! Not gingerbread, but candy! I darted in and out of every single one I could find, much to the dismay of children everywhere. I think I spoiled their fun.

And oh my god Christmas trees are everywhere, and all the malls have gone insane and buried them under tons of ornaments and knick-knacks. So pretty! Everytime I pass one by, my fingers twitch madly, I want to steal a little angel or a shiny star so bad. Oh Santa, forgive me! But they're all so hard to resist, especially those with a fairytale theme. They put tiny wings on one tree and it looks like it could fly away at anytime! And I saw one with unicorns (Hachikuro says hi!) on it, kitschy, miniature and so tempting. If I ran the malls, I'd make sure security held hands and formed a protective circle around the trees.

There's a whole crowd of people milling about here, and I'm a bit afraid that one of them'll realize I'm typing out a blog entry, and not a school project as I've claimed. I wish I'd brought my own laptop on holiday, these hotel ones are so unfamiliar. I'll be going for dinner soon, so I think I'll end this one here.

Oh and Christmas is just round the corner so I hope everyone's got their trees up and their presents all sorted out. Bye loves, and enjoy the holiday season!


New American Classic

I'm going on vacation for a while and have no idea when I'll be back. My bags haven't been packed, and I'm leaving in two hours! Eek! But just in case I happen to miss the 25th, here's to a very Merry Christmas for everyone!

And a Happy New Year!

The poem in the previous post was for a creative writing class. I know I suck at poetry, but at least I'm not emo, right? I just thought that picture would look pretty with it.

And lest you think I was heartbroken or melancholic as I was composing it, then let me tell you this. I spun it out of thin air while nibbling at sugar icing cookies. You know, the ones with colourful dabs of icing sugar on them. My mommy and I split them two ways. Guess who got the sugar bits?

Bye loves!


Indefinite Revival of Post Heart Failure

don't give me your
sugar glass smiles
silent breaths
on the phone
in the middle of the night
sheets and unfinished sentences
is that all i was?
a cloud of dust that
blinded you for a moment
before you saw
the light


Oh Comely

This is all going to be jumbled up, so have fun sorting through the mess.

So a few of my friends called up to laugh about the last post, especially BB - "Remember Forever 21?! Where all the dresses had padded chests?! And when you came out of the dressing room in that blue one?! And the sales assistant laughed?! Because the pads just hung there?!" And my dear Biology teacher Miss S takes pleasure in repeating this story over and over again to anyone who's listening.

"Sometime ago, I was tutoring some boys from another school and this tall kid stands up and says, 'hey Miss S, are you from ....?' So I said yes and he says 'hey i was from there! how's everyone there? how's D? you know, the tall boobless one? tell her i said to grow some curves.' And we both laughed because it was so true!"

But let us move on.

V asked me why I consider myself to be the clumsiest person in the world. Oh, no reason really. Well, other than the fact that I fall over every five seconds or so.

(Sadly)True story below.

The other day, I went to Zara to look for a black skirt. While there, I spotted a pair of heels which I thought looked really good. Now keep in mind that I was wearing ballet flats, and I cannot cannot CANNOT walk in heels. So I have no idea what possessed me to walk over to those shoes and try them on. And by them, I mean the left shoe. Lo and behold, I put my foot down (the left one) and nearly tipped over, swearing loudly in the process. Everyone turned to look at me, and I abandoned my mission to run out of there, tripping again because I hadn't put my shoe back on properly. Yes, it is true. I cannot stand in heels, not even when it's just one.

In my defense, the shoes were 3 inch stilettos, and I'm pretty tall. My center of balance was raised and who am I kidding? I'm clumsy and useless. Every other girl in my class wore heels to Miss W's wedding, but I had to wear flats. That is the kind of person I am.

Am I doomed to a life of flat shoes and mocking glances?

But I am determined to learn how to walk in heels! My dream shoes have 4 inch heels (the irony) so before I get too old and fragile to wear them, I shall have to master the art. I just need a teacher.

Then there was the time I fell (more like slid) off my chair in school because I was laughing too much at my own joke (pathetic, I know). And the chair was about three and a half feet high so everyone rushed over to see if I was okay. They were afraid that I'd hit my head, because I was still giggling so hard that tears were coming out of my eyes while sitting on the floor. I continued laugh-crying for about ten minutes, so they just decided that I was okay, and left me snickering on the ground as they took down notes. The teacher ignored me. They're all used to my stupidity and uncoolness by now.

Trivia: When I fall, I usually end up seated in a lotus position. My legs just fold under me, which further supports that orthowoman's opinion (see last post) that my ankles twist in place, or something like that.

And oh, ONTD reported yesterday that Robert Pattinson has been chosen to play the dashing teenage vampire Edward Cullen of Twilight fame (they hit 5000+ comments!). You may remember him as the ill-fated Cedric Diggory in HPGOF. Now I'm not a raging Edward fangirl, though I'll admit blushingly that I liked the book, so the whole casting doesn't really bother me. But come on. Bella and Edward should at least be believable. Whatever. I just hope that they don't screw Alice up. She was my favourite character. Oh God I can't believe I'm actually caring about this!

Speaking of screwed up, I turned on the television last night only to scream in horror after watching the final episode of ANTM. Saleisha?! A high fashion model? I'm sorry, but no. No. I so wanted Jenah to win. Chantal would've been the next best thing. But Tyra picked the girl who most resembled Dora the Explorer/a mushroom. Maybe I just don't understand high fashion, and Saleisha'll be landing Vogue covers left and right. And maybe I'll learn to wear 4 inch heels. No. Oh yeah, why does everyone call her Tootie?

And on a very random note, I was super excited to see that the lovely Emma had a new post. After reading it (genius, as always), I scrolled through her blog links and found me! Of course I squealed happily when I saw the link there! I've loved her blog since forever, but never linked it because I was afraid that I wasn't good enough to. But then I noticed that it was 'penguins and foxes love geese', which was my blog name a very long time ago. So what does that mean? Has Emma been reading my posts for months (I shouldn't flatter myself)? Or did she prefer my original name? So many questions!

Why are there so many brackets in this post?

By the way, I'm ditching my prom because so many losers are trying to make it into a "classy" event, complete with paint-on dresses and lingerie door gifts to wear on the dance floor and grinding in corners. It's going to be the hoochie girl event of the century, if they get their way. I know, I'm such a rebel. But I can't help wondering though - will I regret this someday?


If I Could Talk, I'd Tell You

Christmas is still in the air! I've just spotted two boys beating each other up with balloon swords in Toys"R"Us over a robot transformer like action figure. And the doll aisle is packed full of little girls jostling for a look at (my nemesis!) Island Barbie. Brilliant.

So, I'm back from a small pre-Christmas shopping spree. Did you know that with me around, people say the stupidest things sometimes?

D is me.

Socks salesgirl: Enjoy walking in your socks! It's good to walk!
D: Eh?

New saleslady at the bookstore (which I go to every week): Wow! Are you really going to buy all of this?
Other salesladies: Duh....

Saleslady at the shoe store: Oh dear, you don't fit this one either. It's the right length but your heel just won't fill the back out. Why are your feet so long? And so narrow? Like a witch!
Mom: How would you know what a witch's foot looks like?

Lady at the orthopedic shoe store: Get your feet checked, love?
D: How? What do you mean?
Lady: We test flexibility and bone structure.
D: Oh, okay. Thanks.
Lady: *fiddles with my foot* Oh, you have very delicate ankles. And feet.
D: *blushes* Thank you.
Lady: Oh, and they are very flexible. Ballet?
D: I used to.
Lady: Thought so. And look, your ankles can turn in place.
D: Eh?
Lady: Fall down often?
Dad: *smiles contently* Yes. Yes, she does.

Note on below: I never knew how rude salesladies could be until I turned 13. None of my friends believe me when I tell them all this, until they go shopping with me. Then, the fun begins.

This lady is probably the mall's PA system, that's how loud she was. While this was happening, my mother and brother were wetting themselves in a corner. Thanks a lot you guys!

Demon in the form of a lingerie/underwear saleslady (DFLS): HELLO LITTLE GIRL!
D: Umm... hi.
D: Yeah. I'd umm, I'd like to buy a *mumbles* bra.
DFLS: SPEAK UP! WOULD YOU LIKE A *amplified ten times* BRA?!
D: Yes, I would. A T-shirt bra, to be specific. Could you...
D: What?
D: .....
D: 17.
D: Listen lady, I just need a bra.
D: Hilarious. I think I'll go look for one by myself. Just carry on doing what you were doing.
D: No, I know my size! Don't!
DFLS: *without taking out measuring tape* AN A CUP! *whips out tape*
D: *backs off slowly* I know my size!
DFLS: *lassos me in* 34A!!! OH DEAR ME!
D: Well at least I'm not completely flat.
D: *looks at DFLS's massive chest, which is threatening to explode out of her shirt* Yours is flooding. Goodbye.

Another gem.

Troll in the form of saleslady at some high-end clothing boutique (TSCB): And where are you going with this dress?
D: A dinner.
TSCB: Yes, yes. A cocktail dress then. You'd be a size... Here!
D: Let me try it on.
TSCB: Sure, sure. Take your time.

Moments later.

D: It's too short. I mean, if I bend over, I'll flash everyone.
TSCB: But won't you be sitting all the time?
D: That's not the point. I want a dress I can be comfortable in. Don't you have one that's a little bit longer?
TSCB: *huffily* You're too tall.
D: Sorry?
TSCB: I wish you weren't so picky. I got this dress for you because it seemed like the only one that wouldn't sag at your chest and leave it exposed. If you had boobs, we could go a few sizes up. Then your dress would be longer.
D: Umm... sure. I'm leaving.

There must be something about me that makes people want to voice out their cruelest opinions. I should get this patented. I should get this recorded. I should sue.


Crystal Tears Joy Electric

Holidays are the best time of year, don't you think? I mean, I love the whole Christmassy buzz as mall employees decked out in elf outfits run around stringing fairy lights from one end to the other and stores blare Christmas faves in a desperate attempt to feign cheerfulness and people fight each other to the death at the bargain bin.

Ok, so that last bit's not that lovable but come on, Christmas is in the air! And so is every goddamn perfume known to man because god help me, there is no better gift for your man than a tiny overpriced bottle of quickly evaporating liquid. Three, count em, three salesgirls cooed at me from their gaudily decorated counters "come love come love buy for your love!" and frantically brandished strips of perfume samples in my face.

You got me. This post is not to trumpet the goodness of Christmas, lovely as it may be, but to bitch merrily about the rubbish I have to put up with when the holidays roll around.

I've mentioned once that I love Christmas carols, and will willingly go caroling when asked, especially if there's the lure of hot cocoa and a token of appreciation at the end of the session. Hark the Herald Angels Sing is a favourite, and I hummed along when I heard it at the mall. Until...

Some douche decided that "oh gee it looks like everyone in the store is enjoying it. because it's at a normal volume, so they can listen to it without being irritated. can't have that now, can we? i want a lump of coal in my stocking this year. let's turn it up a bit, shall we? and by a bit i mean until people start to leave because their eardrums are threatening to jump out of their heads."

And to top this all off, the mall was organizing some stupid holiday promotion of their latest pride and joy - Barbie, Island Princess. Now I could be wrong, but when I hear the word island, the first words that come to mind are hot, tropical, beach, sand, salt water, relaxation, happy. Not loud obnoxious children screaming singing (use this term very loosely, please) unholy music crushed to death pain horror horror horror save me jesus!

The mall had been taken over by tiny girls decked out in ballgowns (with bustles)! And I was in the middle of it all! That read like the exciting beginning of a novel, didn't it? But I digress.

Thanks to the ingenious organizers of the event and overzealous mothers (complete with demon spawn), I had entered hell. Sickeningly happy music exploded from speakers everywhere, competing with and triumphing over the festive sound of Christmas bells. Cut-outs of the blond thing were everywhere, and of course, I walked into every single one in an attempt to escape.

As if that weren't enough, the fantastic people behind this had set up a huge screen and were playing snippets of the movie. One little girl stared at me with big wide eyes, then at the screen, then at me again. "i love barbie!!! she's sooo pretty!!!" was gushed with a threatening glance, she dared me to say something mean. I quickly nodded and tried to push my way through the crowd, but to no avail. Then suddenly.


Instinctively, my survival instincts kicked in and my hands protectively shielded my ears from great harm. The tiny one beside me stood gaping in wonder as one of the aforementioned spawn bared her tonsils for all to see. Aided by a superb surround sound system, she delivered a glass breaking solo of a Barbie song. The crowd of zombies swayed slightly to the rhythm, then stopped when they realized that there wasn't one.

And me? I crouched down slightly, hoping to avoid going deaf before attending at least one Stars concert in my lifetime. Children all around me frowned angrily - I was destroying the sanctity of their childhood idol. Barbie would not stand for this, and neither would they. Slowly, the crowd parted, and feeling like Moses, I sprinted through to the safety of an unBarbie world.

Watching from a safe distance, I saw the true meaning of Christmas. Teenagers and adults alike covering their ears and speeding past the display. Some leaned against walls to laugh and mock the poor child who would regret this moment in three years or so. Proud parents and bewitched kiddies beaming from the audience. The poor host standing beside the speakers, who had beads of sweat on his forehead. Brave man.

But most of all, the expressions on the faces of everyone surrounding me when the host took up his mike again. The reaction to the words coming out of his mouth.

"Let us thank our first contestant for that wonderful performance. Now, let us move on to our second princess who will be singing..."

We put Olympic runners to shame.