Weekly Dresslings.

Okay okay. So I see everyone going to the Weekly Dress posts.

I know I've stopped for a long time. To be quite frank, I got lazy.

And though I'm starting it again, I'm telling you, it is gonna be simple. Nothing fancy, nothing crazy. Just gonna update on stuff I think have helped me in the past. Also, I'm speaking from what I've learnt through my experiences.

What is awesome though (oh self flattery at it's best), is that all the clothes you see are stuff I already have. A lot of the times, they're gifts (thanks mom! if you're reading this!) or some of them may be new but old. If you know what I mean? So, I have had them, I just never brought them out as much till now.

ANYWAY ON Y VA! 

I've gotten pictures from this week's outfits. But not EVERY SINGLE DAY. Like I said, I'm lazy. I promise I'll make an effort though...

Shirt (not seen) Fred Perry

Sweater H&M

Skirt Forever 21

Flats Vincci 

Top some store in Harajuku 

Skirt (not very visible) Padini

Bracelets (L-R) Forever 21, Aldo & some indian store in Brickfields

Coincidental Black & White

Sweater H&M

Top (not quite visible V-neck) H&M

Shorts Brands Outlet

Earrings some shop in LA

Clearer view of the earrings

Dress one of the markets in Bali

Flats Vincci

Shirt Express (Men's section)

Shorts Forever 21

Belt Dorothy Perkins

Shoes Vincci

Earrings some dollar store in Hatyai, Thailand.

Lesson learnt this week:

When wearing a top that covers most of your shoulders (and some parts of your neck), REFRAIN from long necklaces that have a V shape. They just DO NOT go well together. Simplicity is key. If wearing anything with a V neck like shape, keep earrings simple (nothing TOO long, pass shoulder), wear a small necklace. Long earrings create an edgier look with hair up. High pony tails, buns (,etc) or even french braids go well with them.

Feel free to go crazy at the arms though. 

When tired of pinning fringe, tie into braid/ high pony/ bun ;)

This week's craze:

Polka dots and soft material.

Hair: half ponies & braids. Story behind this is that I tried a dutch braid and the bottom was so bad I decided to take it out and halfway through and tied it up instead.

After All...

I need you to stop. Or I need myself to stop. Either one, whichever it is that came first. Whatever, just. Stop.  This loopty loop thing I always do when I find myself ousted. Be it spending my night alone knowing no one will come knocking the way you used to. Be it the fact that everywhere I go, I see all this love, all this affection. Or even the fact that the longer I people watch, the more happy, hand-holding couples I have to take in and smile at. It's bad enough that I've watched all these movies and named them my best friends, as if I could somehow relate to them one way or another. What's worse is that as if by cue, whenever something super lovey dovey happens, my tear machine magically works, causing waterworks to run down my cheek like waterfalls. 

By the way, I've lost count the amount of love songs I have listened to since. I've lost count of the many sad ones that I've played so many times I have learnt the lyrics by listening alone. What's funnier is the fact that somehow, every single one of these songs interestingly enough relate to me and my loss. Look at me, I speak of this as if I speak of a death, you know, one where I've watched the coffin get lowered into the ground as I still claw the very earth. Clenching, holding, grasping every single inch I can lay my fingers on. Each time I loosen the hold on one of them, I come running back, like a lost kid to his mother. Quite frankly, I cry. I cry thinking about it. I talk about it, or, well, it seems, I try to; thinking it'd make me feel better somehow. I always say I feel better, but deep down, nothing has changed. After all this time, nothing had really changed, I don't think. Each time I feel dejected, or when I get the red flag, I go back to you. The memory of you, the feelings still burnt fresh in my mind. Every moment including A and Z with everything in between. After all these years, you've still become my safety blanket. The same topic I find myself bringing up once every blue moon, or, once every haircut. 

Trust me, I am not proud of that frequency because we all know just how many times I have my hair cut. But I can't help it. You've always been that safety blanket, that one that I the salty contents of my tear bear. But I need you to stop. I don't know how, but just, somehow, stop? I need to stop crying over the spilled milk that is you. Rancid it has already become, yet the tears still flow. So, I plead, quit running through my thoughts. Quit being that one special one, that coffin-six-feet-under. Quit being the one. Cause I wanna stop crying, I really do. Sides, I'm sure those ears are sick of the tears and those shoulders tired from the heavy lifting.

SENIOR-megadepressionaddinabunchofwordstolookcool-itis?

So, about a month

ago, I was walking down the busy sidewalks of Phuket. Yeah, where literally at every corner you hear the not-so-silent shouts of...

"YES, TAXI? TUK TUK? MASSASS? (er, a heavily accented cry of "MASSAGE?")"

Anyway! As I did so, I was pondering upon the next two weeks that would officially call for the beginning of my... yes, you guessed it! Senior year!

*Inserts Jaws Soundtrack, followed by screams from horror films, here*

In what felt like a sudden wash of overwhelm, I muttered to my friend "In two weeks, I'm going to be a senior". You know this feeling, the type you watch in animes, where you see the character get a blue patch on their foreheads and they look like they allofasuddenoutofnowhere have a fever? That was me. But apparently the friend heard me not, and I had to repeat myself at a slightly amplified voice. After doing so, expecting some sort of comforting advice, something that would help calm the nerves of my newfound revelation, you know, words of encouragement... But HA. Boy was I wrong. In response, I got something around the lines of...

"Congrats, you can now grow up and face reality!"

This, was then followed by an assurance of just how quickly these two semesters will fly by and how I will be leaving the place I have called home for the past (now about to be) 4 years of my life.

hehe, so cute.
But this face truly and most definitely defined my feelings at the time. 

So now, here I am, almost done with my SECOND week of return, finally! finished with registration. yaaayyy 8 classes woop! All in the right order and at desired grading manner. yaaaayyy haha.

AND already, I see, one by one, my friends, beginning to crumble, falling, crawling, crying, pretty much dying from the bombard of emotions, paired with a GIGANTIC To-Do List waiting to be crossed out as the semester, and even the year progresses. Yours truly included.

Okay, seriously, aside from the one night where alcohol had consumed my body in a way I had completely forgotten about (mixed with an incident that left me in tears); I had begun feeling the whole world kind of just, crashing on me, on my shoulders, and out of the blue, as I sat at a mealtime, found an excuse to walk away, into the bathroom nearby to calm my nerves.

Looking back on my former upperclassmen, it has always been a wonder to me as to how they were able to carry on through with the whole thing, with wide grins on their faces, a spirit that seemed to be bouncing off the walls of everywhere I go, and the constant love and support that they showered upon us. Here I am, trying to fit into the shoes they once wore. But here I also am, crying and crumbling fast to the ground, like an asthmatic child finishing a marathon that had been forced on her.

Is it too early to say that I have whatever disease all seniors get, the one, you know, that just disappears when you graduate? Okay, on a slightly consoling note though, I have managed to find a painkiller that requires no consumption: my art classes. After calming my nerves, I went to the Ceramics lab to carve out designs on my whistle.

Ya like? :)

Inspiration: Kebaya

That was so useful cause upon departure, I felt so much lighter. And I went home to sleep like a baby would.
The best part that followed was the classes I had lined up today, ceramics, drawing, and Orchestra. That meant more flow of the creative juices, with the carving and making of plates (WE MADE SUSHI PLATES TODAY!), and even though I graced screeched through most of the pieces of music, I had fun, most definitely.

I'm sorry if you guys found this post to be rather morbid. But to those of you who live on campus, and would love to see a smile on the faces of the Seniors, please, feel free to send them a friendly greeting, talk to them, get to know them (or do whatever it is you like to help encourage them in your own way). Cause, take my word for it, you will be helping out a very very very VERY VERY stressed out upperclassman. But hey, this also applies to your fellow classmates and upperclassmen of all graduating years. Not just the ones donning the invisible Capstone-d signs across their foreheads.

xoxo

The Beginning

"And to those, who have 257 days more at this university, the Seniors, where are you??"

At addressing the school and seeking out each class for cheers at an award ceremony held a few days ago, this sentence caught me by major surprise.

It is official. I am a Senior at Soka University of America. I had my first Capstone meeting today. For those of you confused folks out there, Capstone is, in a nutshell, the senior thesis every single student is required to write in order to graduate. Capstone is due, well, in May. And I only have how many days left??? To be quite frank, during the meeting, my mind was going frantic. I was dying on the inside, kind of beating myself up, asking myself if I had made the right choice in picking the amount and types of classes I have bagged. Shouldn't I spend this time, doing Capstone?? Uh God. Hey, call me crazy, okay.

Either way, here are some photos of my journey back here.

Waiting to board the plane.

These are Raya lights! :) 

take off at Shanghai Pudong!

Above the streets of LA. I flew over buildings.

It didn't even hit me till I started guessing which buildings were what.

Familiar faces. 

and many laughs.

the view from the entrance of my building. 

Post award ceremony dinner.

4 hour errands to the same places and coincidentally matching outfits.

Karaoke night.

Drawing Homework 1:

Hogwarts Emblem.

4 days worth of work, COMPLETED.

Shit is going down, crazy, mad. I apologize in advance for the inconsistency of blog posts. Please still love me? :) I hope you know I do you :) 

Oh, right. And of course, I cheered super duper duper loud, as loud as I could.
I'm a Senior. 

Proud to be one, but terrified altogether. But still one. 

Ba-ba-ba, Baba-nana.

Okay.

So today, I woke up at 9.35am, freaking out thinking I only had 25 minutes to get my ass off the bed, get ready and get to the City Center to my orthodontist for my 10am appointment.

RUSH RUSH SPEED VROOM VROOM

I get there at well, 10.30, there was a jam and the parking lot was a bitch, most of them were reserved!
Anyway. I get there, get out of the car, into the main block to the shop lot and

is all I see.

Immediately. I remembered that they're closed on Mondays. 

ER MER GERD. 

Not very happy, I started making my way back towards the parking lot when I realized that I had no small change to pay for parking. So I did another U-turn and LO & BEHOLD. FOOOOOOD! :)

I stopped and had my breakfast. I had sat closest to the entrance, facing out and something catches my eyes.

so pretty

Even though I had a book with me, like I always do whenever I go out,  I had decided to just sit there and take in the view of my city, my home. I swear, I could stare at it forever. Then when my food came, I savored every last bite of it while I tried absorbing more of the view that lay before my eyes. 

Quite frankly, I feel that no one in my country actually really really appreciates home. Regardless of whatever country you're in, no one really appreciates it. For my country, well, we're always complaining about how shitty it is. Er, dude, trust me, I DON'T deny that statement. ESPECIALLY in certain aspects of our country, such as the shitty services, the POORLY POORLY organized urban planning (to name a few). But, all in all, our country ain't all that bad. 

It took me three years and the living in two different continents of the world to realize that. You see, rewind back to all those years before I left, or even began college.... 

1990

I was born into an English speaking family. My parents brought me up speaking English. And pretty much, English only. My Sundays were usually filled with watching Sesame Street or some Disney movie or another. 

1997

I attended Primary school. It was an ALL CHINESE speaking school. Everything learnt was in Chinese (more specifically, Mandarin), but of course you still had to take Malay and English on the side, that was a must. Oh trust me, I HATED it for the longest time. And for the first 2 years,  I had pretty much gone to school not really knowing exactly what was going on and boy oh boy, did I hate my parents for getting caned in school without knowing why. I tried finding those who spoke more English than Mandarin and stuck to them more. 

Fast Forward to 2003 (GASP, 9 years ago!)

My first year of high school. Liberated from my Chinese only environment, I detested the idea of taking Chinese as a subject on it's own. Mom gave me an ultimatum that later resulted in my discontentment to stay back, after school hours for it. Plus, my teacher was rather psycho anyway. He spent most of his time comparing us to his old students and lecturing us on our behavior instead of actually teaching us. Was not very happy, as you can imagine. 

Also... YAY American TV! You name it, I've seen it. I yearn so much to go to the places I see on TV. 

2005

I had seen the last of the traditional proverbs and had enough of trying to decipher ancient letters and interpreting them. OH HELL YES. But now, I can even recite to you the names of the actors and characters from any show. 

2008

I will never forget the one day when I was trying to write some simple sentences in Mandarin. But I couldn't even write the simplest, most basic of words. I was dying in shame while my friend (who I asked for help) laughed at me. T'was the saddest day of my life.

2009. 

I had just arrived in Southern California to attend college. It was like a dream come true and I had wanted so much to blend in immediately. To speak with an American accent (possibly a more Californian one than anything else) and to completely leave behind my very own culture, and background.

2011

Being in Barcelona, sucking horribly at Spanish, not speaking a word of Catalan, except for the word "bathroom", Mandarin somehow managed to save my ass a couple of times. 

Today, I'm reflecting upon the last 4 years and what that has done to me. You know how they say you never know what you have till it's gone? Well, I had gone, cause OBVIOUSLY the country can't go anywhere else, physically. And I can say that I have an intensified love for my country, the diversity, and things that make it uniquely Malaysia. Really, I'm truly truly thankful for the education I've gotten from home. Okay, it may not be the BEST, but in terms of the flexibility it has given me and my fellow Malaysians, I think we've got THAT much covered, at least. 

Seriously, it helps so much with language learning, and sometimes even conversing is much easier. We can travel to a bunch of places without having to worry about language as much. And the food, oh my god, the food. One of the BIGGEST things I miss when I'm away. 

If you really don't like this country, I can't really say I blame you. It can feel suffocating sometimes. And they always say, "the grass looks greener on the other side" and they're right. It always does. Even when you've gone to the other side, you'll say the same about home. (which, allow me to add, that we should all try living, YES, LIVING in a different country for at least a FULL year)

Carpe Diem: A Frantic Search of A Lazy Bum

After barely sleeping the night before, and despite the rather nice nap I had gotten yesterday, I still am in some major slack in the Sleep Department. Why? Well, after for snoozing for about 5 hours last night, I was awoken by the rancid cries (bitch, they're all rancid, even if your voice is made of the finest of tunes) to go for breakfast.

What's worse:

IT WAS RAINING. 

I was having a full on body to body, making non sexual love with my blanket and you're telling me I've to move my fucking butt?! 

GOD. I wanted to die. 

So I got up, ran down in a frantic without even bothering with hygiene, opened the door and I SWEAR, it was like the Arctics had decided to pay us a visit. I was frozen for like a milisecond. Then I sprinted back up to change into some warmer clothes and take a leak cause I had forgotten I needed to pee (KAY SERIOUSLY, am I the only one who actually FORGETS to pee?!). wooookay. Too much info, Kim. So right, after THAT's done, I head back down, STILL half asleep and out the door we were, to breakfast. Interestingly enough, I was still in my night tee (just an old sports tee from high school), a pair of blue slim fits (that needed to be washed anyway so it didn't matter if it got wet), and a blue coat. Boy, I felt like GOLD despite not having brushed my teeth/ washed my face. Did I also mention that even the perfume was left alone?

HEHE. 

Kay, to be honest, I have no idea why I just told you all that. Maybe the moral of the story is, when in doubt, put on a coat. It'll glam up ANYTHING and everything. Although, I must say, looking back at myself this morning, I must've come off as some bitch who owns no other colored clothing but Navy Blue (cause everything was that color, yes, even the tee).

Sorry, I digressed. Erm, well, I've been up since, and have been looking up some Latin quotes for my next venture... Can you guess what it is...? I'm smirking. Smirking, smirking.

So here are some that caught my eye. Thought I'd share them with the world (all up to your interpretation, how to look at it, you can love it, hate it, eat it, chew it, whatever):

amor et melle et felle est fecundissimus

love is rich with both honey and venom

audentes fortuna iuvat

fortune favors the bold

damnant quod non intellugent

they condemn what they do not understand

cor ad cor loquitor

heart speaks to heart

disce out discede

learn or depart

Hehe. I think I should stop here before I digress again and let you in on how I still have not showered. Gross, right?

These Small Hours

I like you.
Flaws and all? 
Surprisingly so. Even though I am very much clinging onto these flaws to try and rid my feelings for you.

I like you.
Do I Facebook stalk you like a Peeping Tom a hot naked lady?
No but on occasion when I had nothing better to do than to update a close friend on my latest like which so happens to be you cause they asked for a picture of you. 

I like you.
Then, do I like everything and anything you post on Facebook?
Nah. Only sparingly so cause really, some of that shit interests me to the very very least.

I like you. 
Does this means I'd come running after you with a bat and chase you till you agree to be mine?
No.


I like you. 
Does this mean that I pull down all my defences and let you see who I really am?
Yes. So I'd save us both the trouble of playing the game and getting my heart broken in the end cause we're not meant for each other later when you see who I really am.


I like you. 
But Is it reason for me to be your bitch?
Never. 

I like you.

Like, a lot.

Which is why I still defend you when I get told you're not worth my time. 

I like you. Which is PARTLY why I make picking outfits for the day all the more challenging. I like you, which why I find myself constantly staring at my phone hoping you'd call or text me to invite me out for coffee. I like you, which is why I'm usually disappointed by the end of the day cause I get neither texts nor calls from you. I like you, and I'd love to know you feel the same way too. I like you, but I won't let anything happen between us. Not even if it is something more than friends. Because I know that none of that is likely to happen anyway. But it's cause I like you that I'm keeping whatever it is we have, gently gripping onto the slipping slopes of what I call our friendship.