I Don’t Believe That Anybody Feels The Way I Do

[Wonderwall – Oasis]

Day 30 — Your reflection in the mirror

Dear reflection,

Fuck you so sexy, if ya just be looking at thems bwois they be melting at their knees and begging to treat ya right.

Or some shit like that, right?

They tell us to love ourselves because we’re all beautiful, no matter how big our breasts, how perky our butts, how thin our legs, how high our cheekbones are (this is just, you know, for the girls. I mean, hell, guys might want perky bums as well I don’t know) but how many people REALLY see themselves in the mirror and go “fuck yeah that’s what I’m talking about”? Because I bet each and every one of them think, “Oh, I wish my skin was smoother” or something small, or big.

The difference is if they let that bother them. It’s not exactly “love the skin you’re in”, but rather “be predominantly not so bothered by the shortcomings of the skin you’re in”. And if you have something which you bloody think is brilliant, I say go fucking flaunt it. This period of time might be the only time in your life that that part is the best part, so go flaunt it – I say this without condoning wearing barely anything to show off your long legs. I mean…leave something to the imagination, please.

Okay, that’s the purely physical side of what I think about reflections.

The strange thing is, do you ever feel like you’re old? Because you see yourself everyday, and I just wonder how the hell do people actually think I look old enough to go into a bar (yes I know I get carded, but for argument’s sake we’ll say I don’t) because to me, I still am this little girl back in Gr 4. When I was about to leave primary school, everyone was saying how it was so strange that they were the oldest in the school, and that the preps saw them how they used to see the other old kids.

But hell, if the bouncers reckon I can get in, I’m not arguing.

It’s not like the face in the reflection still holds the same amount of wisdom behind it as it did in Gr 4. So I suppose in all senses that a hurrah for me.

Anyway, this is my last letter from my 30 days of letters. I think I should thank Bianca for telling me that it’s awesome, and I should thank everyone who’d read this. It wasn’t as repetitive as I thought it would be, even though I wrote pretty much all to girls than guys. I don’t know if I’ve made some self-discovery in these letters, but I suppose it cleared things up to write them.

So, for the last time in this series, but not for the last time in the blogs,


You Hide From Consequence

[Opinions Won’t Keep You Warm At Night – Kisschasy]

Day 6 – A Stranger

Dear Stranger:

I have yet to meet you, but maybe you already know who I am. Okay, I know that’s creepy, but I don’t know everyone who knows me. Either way, I don’t know you.

Considering that I’m nearing my 19th birthday still single, I would dare say that my future partner is, at this moment, still a stranger. So, to you, stranger, I wonder if we’ll be great together?

To all those other platonic strangers out there: hey! I may seem weird at first but I implore you to give me a few moments, talk to me, get to know me, and you’ll see that “weirdness” is really just a sort-of-anagram of “awesomeness”.

Anyway, there isn’t really much I can say to someone I don’t know exists, so I shall end it here. But if you’re reading this and I don’t know you, feel free to drop a comment and say hi!


Tap On My Window, Knock On My Door

[She Will Be Loved – Maroon 5]

Day 4 – your siblings (or closest relative)

Well, as bad as I feel about this because both Julia and Lisa are great cousins, but I haven’t seen any of them for a small part of a decade. So, I suppose this goes to…

Dear Fa,

I think I might skip all the “you’re an idiot who wears shorts that are too short” jokes and actually get to the nice gooey bits.

I am grateful for you, firstly. Not only did you give me motivation to try harder last year with the 2 subjects that I shared with you, if anything, just to beat you – I still failed miserably but still – but you didn’t fail to be on my side consistently for every problem that I went to you for, even after all the jokes I made of you.

And I’m glad that you come to me for support and a whinge because it made me feel useful – even though I really shouldn’t agree to keep booking you into hotels…that’s just irresponsible.

Finally, I know this sounds cheesy, but I can foresee a great future for you. I don’t know what you’ll do, exactly, but I know you, and you’re going to work your ass off and beat the crap out of your competition no matter what, so I have no worries that you won’t be able to “make the cut”. I just hope we don’t end up saying this in the context of…street corner work.

Please keep me young and sane. I’m starting to turn into a traditionalist old fart.


Your BIG cousin who was BIGGER until around 6 years old you fat-ass.

Love Her When She Smiles

[Absolutely (Story Of A Girl) – Nine Days]

Day 1 – Your Best Friend

Dear Jackie,

I think the fact that I am writing this to you is indicative of a lot of things I want to say. A lot of people are surprised that we only really got to know each other better at the start of this year, because it seems like we’ve been close for a long time. That makes me happy when I hear it, because it means we’re getting along splendidly and so easily and fast.

I know that I always call you a loser, and saying you’re lazy and that you never eat enough, and even though they’re all true, I don’t really care about any of it, because I love you!

I hope that I can protect you and make you stay happy! I know you do the same for me already, and I don’t want to feel like I’m just taking and taking from you.

Please don’t take it as a bad thing that this ‘letter’ to you is so short, nor is it a bad thing that we’ve not been friends for long; but I am hopeful to say that our friendship will keep sailing, and I can write a much longer letter in a year, two years, three years etc….



Filing away

Today was my first day actually earning money. Carmaine, Bianca, Fel and I went to work at Walters and Partners doing random odd jobs around the office.

We, the four of us, managed to do nearly 1000 letters. That is, Fel managed the signing, Carmaine and I the folding and stapling/paper clipping, and Bee the putting-into-envelopes.

Then we had lunch. (Damn straight we did all that before lunch).

Carmaine and I re-organized the entire filing room, hauling big-ass folders back and forth. Go us, Carmaine! Muscle strength haha!

Then we joined Bee and Fel in some filing of alphabetical order crap thingy that took ages and hurt my back.

On the tram home there was a creepy guy who screamed loudly and swore a lot.

My first day of work! Not that exciting. I sorta wished it would be like The Office, but it was just normal.

I work on Thursday and Friday. Tomorrow I take day off to do Chinese homework. Wednesday is Mai’s.

Sorry about short sentences. I wasn’t sure what information I could reveal about the firm I work at, not that it’s a dodgy firm. Besides, BIG BANG THEORY IS BACK!


Cross My T’s And Dot My I’s

Today I wrote those letters (or rather, finished writing the letters) to those people. I discovered 2 things:

1. I can actually write straight and neat, but only in one letter.

2. I can write a LOT one minute and have a complete writer’s block the next. Which I know is usual for a lot of people.

I can’t wait until the recipients read the letters. Because then they’d know a small part of me. (“Can you feel it? Can you feel me inside of you?”)

Apart from that I didn’t manage to achieve much. I wrote Eunice’s and Dani’s before the weekend, and today I wrote Bee’s and Carmaine’s.

Right now, mom had just come home and immediately had started screaming at my dad. I wonder how much more of this he can bear before he really blows his top. And by that I mean either something directly towards mom or something kind of passive. Most of the time I can block her voice out but it does become hard sometimes. I hate that he doesn’t retaliate, and I hate how she’d not let something go, and would keep picking at it and picking at it.

Like when I lost my Metcard (which I know is stupid but just bear with me) I got a telling off which I know I deserve. But I figured she’d respect that I’m nearly an adult and know that I feel enough shame already, and punish myself and learn from my mistake, but no. She spends the whole day telling me what a disgrace I am, and how useless I am at looking after myself. She tells me that she’s sick (which she was, 2 years ago, for about a week) and that she’s always tired, yet she manages to find enough energy to scream at me at a volume that in other households would be considered as a full-heated argument. Once she came home and didn’t stop screaming from the moment she walked in, until dinnertime (dinner which dad and I cooked for her) and then after dinner as well. That’s of course, not mentioning the abusive names she call me. But I might be wrong. It could just be a Chinese tradition to call a husband an imbecile.

Whatever. I think I need to get myself a stressball. That, or more TV time. I’m lucky that I’ve found escape when I’m by myself, and friends when I’m with others. I’m not like some kids who have no one, and I’m not like some kids who gets bashed.

Crap, this blog turned emo.

Writing the letters was soothing, definitely. Because every word I wrote reminded me of the person I was writing to.

You should try it some time, just write a letter to a friend, best friend, sibling, family member if you have one you actually like…(which brings me to the point that my mom would openly and while I am around tell people my bad points, and even somehow make my good points into jokes or silly ideas, but STOP SHUT UP!) and tell them what you think of them, or what you’re thinking in general. Even if you never post the letter, it could still help you. I COULD take my own advice, write a letter to my mother, then burn it, but I don’t want to waste ink, paper nor time on her.

De Fluffe, Out.

P.S. My nose and chin (yep that too) has reached its final stages of peeling. Now it’s just dry. I’m going to use some of my scent-less moisturiser. It hurts like a bitch, my nose does. Thanks Julia for your suggestion.

P.P.S. Geez my blog’s a bit bipolar. I talk about how much I love my friends then WHAM how much I hate being at home. Then back to friends again then WHAM snap back to bad feelings.