Confessions: The Turning Twenty-four Edition

1. It's the job of every twenty-somethings to feel old.

2. I'd still rather eat anything saturated with sugar for breakfast.
3. I'd trade partying with a cup of tea and a book. (Just typing that sentence made me feel so old, I swear my fingers started to feel arthritic around the words "cup of tea".)

4. I still get pimples.

5. Sometimes my body aches. Like for no apparent reason.

6. I am still looking for friends.

7. I understand more jokes. Like when I watched The Lion King recently, I got all the jokes, and the deep stuff, that I never remembered seeing.

8. I still cry. Way more.

9. People appreciate the things that make me different.

10. I realise it's all about who you know not what you know.

11. I lick my fingers to turn the pages of a book. I used to think it was gross. Now it comes naturally.

12. It's now illegal for me to drive without contacts or glasses.
13. I wake up looking like my driver's license photo. Eww.

14. I'm still completely delighted by Starbucks Christmas cups every year.

15. I have daily moments of nostalgia. Almost anything can trigger it. And it kills me.
16. I'm sad I have not taken enough risks with my youth.
17. That taut young body I once took for granted in high school is disintegrating before my eyes.

18. I've learnt that the definition of bravery is having diarrhoea and chancing a fart
19. I complain about "kids these days blah.. tween these days blah blah" (By all account, I'm not that old, but that doesn't stop me from complaining about teenagers.)
20. I've perfected the Irish goodbye. It's a move you pull when you're at a gathering/party/bar/event/etc and because you're a tired (physically & psychologically) old soul, you slink away into the corner, then RUN out the door when nobody's looking. 

A short note on Idealism

I suffer from an overdose of idealism. It's hard. I can't help but feel that my idealism is my character flaw. It kills every deal. It's my stumbling block. It's caused me so much heartache and bitterness, and a lonely self-perception, that I utilise fantasy as a form of escapism, and to interrupt painful thoughts, or unhappy reality. It's really no wonder idealism and depression go hand in hand. (Scratch off idealism, and underneath is a person who loathes oneself, and the next moment loves oneself.)

It's exhausting. It's the enemy of the good. Which is why I believe idealists and perfectionists have a hard time receiving love. They aren't good enough to receive love. Or, the love they are receiving isn't good enough for them. Either way, idealism is a hard way to live out your humanity. Explains why I have reality avoidance issues right now, and only the imaginary ideal beckons me.

"I have met many people who were once idealists. When they lose their fantasies, 
they often retreat into depression or attack whatever damaged their illusions." - Musa Kramny

Complicated post for complicated feelings

Oh my goodness, I have so many feelings. Too many and complex to even identify. And they keep coming in like waves. I sing. I sulk. I awe. I panic. I happy sigh. I sad sigh. I laugh (at your Facebook photos. And your friends' photos. And their wedding photos. Only because I'm high on energy drinks around 2 in the afternoon, and I don't realise what a meanie-poo-face I'm being). I've been really juvenile and selfish as of late.

This post probably won't even make any common sense to you. I just feel overwhelmed with dread and weariness about life deadlines, school deadlines, email replies, personal commitments, important decisions to be made, courageous conversations to be had, judgements to brush off, lecturers to prove wrong, kilo's to lose, clothes to model, presentations to present, macbook to fix, stereotypes to break, a doctor's appointment, plus eight million other things. It’s pretty amazing how incapacitated you can get. What are you supposed to do? But what ends up happening in times like these is ironically, nothing. Like, when you’re overwhelmed and your attention is taxed, you try and run in 17 directions at once, and as is to be expected, don’t move far in any of them. So you sit and throw a tantrum, and then get distracted by Ryan Gosling's flawlessness or a sudden urge to commute to the airpot and eat eggs benedict, buy a milk steamer, and get a new piercing, only to take it out after a couple of months because "it's gets in my way". And probably get a new complicated hairstyle for complicated feelings.

It's like one moment I'm having an anxiety attack, (do you remember in Sex and the City season 4, they had to rip apart Carrie's wedding dress because she was having a panic attack and she was hyperventilating and her body suddenly erupted in rashes? It was just like that. But in a public toilet and not a wedding dress) and the next moment my eyes light up about my favourite things, and seeing The Sound of Music and Captain Von Trapp in the holidays. I love that film more than raindrops on roses, (but not more than whiskers on kittens)! Often, I heart-breakingly grieve for my loss of innocence and child-like wonder (I don't know if this is normal or it's the Peter Pan complex), then I'm eerily at peace. Followed by eye-of-the-tiger-confidence, head-butting into what I must do in life. Hence, in my moment of feeling something between glee and anticipation, I've compiled a list of books/films I have to see/read to run away from reality to read during my 3 week winter break with Bearemy.

George's Marvellous medicine, Roald Dahl
James and the Giant peach, Roald Dahl
The Perks of being a wallflower, Stephan Chbosky
The Magicians, Lev Grossman
The Stepford wives, Ira Levin
The Turn of the Screw, Henry James
Secret Window, 2004
Big Fish, 2003
Lost in translation, 2003
Up in the air, 2009
Spirited away, 2001
Zodiac, 2007
Annie Hall, 1977
Big, 1988
The English Patient, 1996
The Phantom of the Opera, 19-I-don't-know-which-Broadway-version
The Sound of Music, 1965

The idealist in me

Being an idealist is hard. Sometimes, or many times, even heart breaking. Especially when people bursts your "bubble". Last time this happened, was a couple of weeks ago, and I decided to walk home crying in the rain. I even lied I was getting a lift, because I needed that alone time. (It conveniently happened to pour down bucketfuls that evening! And it was quite comforting.) I have a struggle to see reality for what it is, and the idealist within me feels insulted by the challenge that it is not seeing reality for what it is.

Being ever the intuitive dreamer, I had a saying that made my friends chuckle -"reality is overrated". (Reality, then pays revenge by slapping me in the face.) I often feel a sense of separation, and am misunderstood being childish and even stupid, because I find it difficult to deal with hard facts, logic and impersonal judgements.

"Good enough" is another theme that makes the idealistic side of me cringe. It's a concept I have been struggling with, but is the only concept I have found that brings me peace. Another concept that goes hand in hand with idealism is perfectionist, so you perfectionists might understand what I am talking about, as much as the idealists do.

This is why every project I take on disappoints me. I got into creative work because I know I have good taste. But there is this "gap" that frustrates me. What I do is good, has potential, but it's not. But my taste is still pretty awesome! Hence, I'm disappointed in myself. Sometimes, I never get past this phase and lose motivation, and quit. It explains the reason I'm failing at the moment. Or sometimes I don't try too hard, or put my heart into things I do. That way, I won't be as disappointed.

I have trouble completing tasks because it cannot meet my standards. I also have problems working on a project in a group, because my standards are different, and I end up giving up my ideas for the harmony of the group, avoiding any conflict.

So what does this mean for the future of the idealist side of myself? It's tough to negotiate with a part of me that doesn't want to negotiate. I'd wish to end this post by saying I have it figured out. But I really don't. But you know what? I can't help thinking this could somehow be my greatest strength, if God made it to be.

Disney, romance and Carrie Bradshaw.

After an awfully long and awful week, and a draining friday of pattern-making, I decided I deserved a Disney marathon in bed with a tub of coffee ice-cream. Good old classics, that gives me the childlike (childish) feeling of dancing and singing and crying and dreaming. So last night, I watched Beauty and the Beast, and Tangled (for the first time! I thought I'd be a tad too old to appreciate the newer Disney movies). The marathon didn't quite finish until this morning with Aladdin, because I needed a pick-me-up before I head-butted into my assignments and textile print design briefs. And once again, I got into a whirlwind of dancing and singing and crying and dreaming.
A couple of days ago, a friend told me, "girls struggle with romance". I think this is what he was implying. I'm 22 and finding  flaws because it's not Disney enough. It's stupid, right? And I still wish Disney romance was real. But it's not. Even at 22, my idealist self is still trying to figure out how to accept that just because a guy isn't a 'prince charming' doesn't mean I'm settling for, but rather, I'm settling in. Maybe they should put a disclaimer in the beginning or end of these movies, reminding us that this is based completely on fiction. My generation and I are lost causes, and we will never recover. But maybe, future little girls can avoid this frustration. I'm reminded of the scene in the Sex and the City Movie, where Carrie cautions Charlotte's daughter Lily, "You know this is just a fairytale, right sweetheart? Things always don't happen like this in real life. I just think you should know that now".

I will conclude this post with my random thoughts on Beauty and the Beast.
1. I think Belle was adopted.
2. What's the Beast's name?
3. It's been too long since Celine Dion has had a movie soundtrack hit. TOO long.

40 Confessions

1. F3: Food, fashion, farts. Three things in this world that excites me.
2. I love fashion because it is so flexible in accomodating my dreams and fantasies.
3. Sometimes I wish I was a guy. This thought usualy crosses my mind when I walk into an amazing menswear shop, or see an incredible menswear collection.
4. Inside me lives a classy 42 year-old woman named, Laura-Ashley Dupont, a dandy 24 year-old male, and a spoiled, gleeful 5 year old of a girl. At different times you see them manisfest. Just ask to be introduced.
5. Also lives in me is Christ Jesus, who I hope will show through more and more, though the way I talk, think, see, and feel.
6. I'm a bit of a man repeller. I love the sartorial fineries of clothes, which happen to repel men. I'm looking for someone who will look past what I wear. So bring on the the tie-die turban, poo-catcher pants, granny cardigans, power shoulders, nerd glasses, and shoes with 1000 buckles! There is a lot of things in my wardrobe that women adore and men abhor, perfect to me, yet incomprehensible to the average male specimen. 
7. I seem to have no shame in publicly announcing my bowel movements (or lack thereofs), my monthly flows, my monster feeds, and its side effects (breathlessness, food coma, and underwear elastics digging into my skin).
8. Men in ill-fitting suits really bother me with a passion. But a perfectly fitted suit is a breath of fresh air, and there is absolutely nothing gay about it. Think James Bond, or Tom Ford.
9. I have an odd personal belief that take-away coffee, or thermal mug, makes a cool fashion statement, and holding one in your hand, strutting your way somewhere, is the finishing touch to a "I'm so hip/cool/popular/busy" look. Due to my clumsiness I have coffee stains in clothes that are expensive to dry-clean.
10. I'd like to tape my thumbs to my hands to see what it feels like to be a dinasaur. Rah.
11. One day, I want to sit next to a stranger on a park bench, on a peaceful, sunny afternoon and hear their life story-Forest Gump-style.
12. I'm not attracted to men who play saxaphones. I'm repelled. There, I said it! Woo me instead, with your guitar or piano.
13. Another way to my heart is through my stomach.
14. I have a soft spot for well-dressed, long, lean, limbs, if you know what I mean.
15. I'm a creepy bookworm that keeps a book in the kitchen, a book next to the bed, and another book in my the bathroom so I can read wherever I am in the house. Hence, I tend to simultaneously read them, and finish about three books in five days.
16. I have French vocab 'post-it' notes all over my house. Parce que, j'adore apprendre le francais. Et toi?
17. The 1940's is my favourite fashion era. I wish everyone still dressed that way. Polished, prim and pretty.
18. I treat my teddy-bears especially well because I can imagine them come alive and talking to each other when I'm asleep, and having their picnic when I'm away. I've placed tea cup and tea pots on my bookshelf for this very reason.
19. I will go to Switzerland just to devour their cheese and chocolate, and sit by the fire drinking hot chocolate in a cosy log cabin.
20. I love awkward moments and pinching peoples’ butts in big crowds, and burping in their ears.I sometimes like to think that I’m on some reality tv show and 'interview' myself. Apparently that's been coined the Truman Syndrome.
21. Sometimes when people tell me jokes or try to be really funny, I often do the pity laugh and hope they can’t tell it’s fake. This happens often.
22. When my room is messy, I find stuff easier than when it is neat and tidy.
23. When I am not smiling, I tend to look stern or lost. I have no control over that.
24. For some reason I really enjoy talking about poo. I like asking people about their poo, I like poop jokes. I've even written songs and peoms about them.
25. As much as I like poop jokes, I like fart jokes.
26. You'd have no idea, but at home, I dress like a homeless woman. Don't expect me to answer the door.
27. I think I'm allergic to drastic temperature changes. I develop red spots. I'm also allergic to alcohol. I think it's a blessing.
28. I like going into my brother's room to jump on his bed. (Oh, never my bed. God no, not my sanctuary.) I'd jump until the springs would poke through the mattress, then I'd run and hide. Then'll I'd forget all about it. Only until he has to get a new mattres. 
29. After I blow my nose I secretly look into the tissue. Sometimes flubber, sometimes egg whites. It's just interesting. Don't lie, you've done it too.
30. I consider myself to have a bit of a Peter Pan complex.
31. I bite.
32. I am addicted to writing and making lists, I can't not do it for two days, because I start to crave in.
33. I'd love to know what Demi did, when she flirted with Ashton Kutcher. Just curious.
34. Love, goodness, faithfulness, kindness, gentleness, self-control, patience, joy, and peace. I aim for these to be one day be IN YA FACE.
35. I sound real retarted in person. I don't speak the way I think/write/type. I think I'm just awkward and verbally expressing myself.
36. My wise older brother once taught me, "an open mouth gathers many feet."
37. My favourite weather is grey, cloudy, chilly days, with drizzles of rain. I love its sound and scent. And there's something about the way everything looks after the rain.
38. I believe in life eternal after death. The life that I have now is too short. I want to do what I enjoy. 
39. I'm an onion. Like Shrek, I have many layers. I don't look like a lot of things that I am, if you know what I mean.
40. =/ is an awesome emoticon. I use it liberally.