Just a quick note to say I’ve updated my blog design. I’m really pleased with it! But, as always, constructive criticism is welcome. 
I still have a few small things I need to do but they can wait because I have a nice night in with my boyfriend which is far more important!
xo
Dearest crush,
The first time I saw you was in psychology class just over a year ago. You had bleached short hair and were wearing black jeans with a sleeveless shirt, a denim sleeveless jacket with patches all over it, combat boots and carried your motorcycle helmet under your arm. You sauntered into the lecture theatre like you owned the place. I swooned a little bit. You sat next to a girl I assumed was your girlfriend. It was not until later that I found out she wasn’t, much to my relief because I though she had a horse-face and that you deserved someone better. I have always judged harshly and unfairly; it’s terrible.
Anyway, after that I noticed you every time you were in class and I noticed when you were not there, but I never spoke to you. Then one day, I was waiting for my psychology tutorial and you were waiting for yours: our classes were next door to each other. You were sitting on a bench seat in the hallway, playing on our laptop, so I sat down next to you and pretended to read my manual for class that day. You asked me soon after if I was in psych 108, and I said yes. You introduced yourself and I think I told you my name in return, then we got talking about things, you played me some music on your laptop, and you mentioned your life and I deduced that you were maybe a bit broken and that I should probably keep a nice distance so as not to get myself into a potential mess. Plus, you were 18 and I was 21 and still harbouring hopes for my then sociology lecturer.
After that day you sat by me in class most days you were there. You weren’t there a lot though and I realise why now, what with everything going on in your life. But I missed you when you weren’t there, even though I kept telling myself I shouldn’t fall for you. Once you started coming back to classes more regularly you also started to want to hang out a lot. I wasn’t sure about it all at first, because, as I mentioned, I thought I should probably not get involved (I was doing that harsh judgement thing again). But you were persistent and so we had coffees, and a beer once, and then we started texting too.
At the end of the semester we decided to do some studying for psychology together. That day we didn’t do any studying at all. You arrived and looked heart-stoppingly handsome and I kept thinking “Oh no, don’t do anything rash, Sam! Just friends, just friends!”. You were cold and wet from riding your motorcycle in the rain and you asked for a hug and I was shy but gave you one anyway. You were hungry and wanted to grab some breakfast, which incidentally happened to be Indian. I wasn’t hungry so I didn’t get anything. We sat in a booth and you ate and we talked. And we talked, and talked, and talked. And laughed too. You were so cuddly, which was odd to me because I never knew anyone to be that way unless they were romantically interested. I thought maybe you liked me; I hoped you did.
You kept hugging me, and then after awhile I kissed you. It seemed like the thing to do at the time. It was an uncertain kiss, and I apologised after, but I so wanted to grab your face and kiss you until we turned blue. Lucky for me, you didn’t seem to mind the kiss, and so then the kisses happened again. And again. I’m pretty sure we managed to gross the whole upstairs cafeteria out actually, but I didn’t care because they were the best kisses. In the afternoon, after hours of talking and some kissing, we both had to go. You walked me to the bus and held my hand and I wasn’t sure what to think of anything that had happened and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to keep kissing you or say sorry I didn’t mean it, but I did feel happy despite all of the confusing thoughts and feelings.
That day was exactly 10 months ago today, and we have been inseparable since. You are my crush, my friend, my partner, my lover. I have never in my life felt for anyone what I feel for you and that totally amazes me. When I was not looking for love, while I was judging you as being too young, too broken, too whatever for me, I found the best love in you. You make me feel so safe in this world, in every sense of the word, and you are my happy place. I love you.
Happy anniversary, Babycakes! xox
In order to jump-start my writing here, I’m going to do the 30 letters challenge over the next 30 days. Well, hopefully 30 days – I might not make it every single day, but there will be 30 letters! For the most part I won’t be using names, and I may not do the letters in the order listed below (I know, I like to complicate things, haha).
So, here is the list of what the 30 letter will be about:
And so, without further ado, here is a letter to one of my best friends.
Dear Mum,
Some people say parents shouldn’t be their kids’ friends, that they should always be The Parents and stay that way forever. To those people, I give the finger. Without you as my dearest friend as well as mother, I would not be who I am today. I would not laugh so much, nor would I enjoy your company or the company of my family as much as I do. Your friendship has allowed me to feel safe in confiding in you, no matter what the information is, even if it takes me ages to get the words out.
Your friendship has come with a lot of fun and humour which I am so thankful for. Between you, my two sisters and I, we are the best, silliest bunch of friends and I am so blessed to have that. I hope that it continues forever. To be able to not only have you as a mum, who still mothers us in our adulthood and young-adulthood when we are sick or sad, but to also have you as a buddy to laugh and hang-out with is an absolute treasure. You are never not a mother, but you bring a special sort of friendliness to your role that I have seen many girls without. I truly believe your ability to blend the two is part of what makes you the best mum and what makes me so happy and proud to be your daughter and your friend.
I hope that I get to be the mother of a girl one day, and if I do, I will try my best to give to her many of the things you have given me. I hope that she will love me even half as much as I love you because then I would know that I have been truly blessed as a mother, and that I am doing things right. I hope that I can give her courage in her scared moments, as you have given me; that I can make her feel comforted in her saddest times, as you have done for me; that I can laugh with her constantly as you and I do; that I will take her teasing as gracefully as you take the teasing from us girls. I hope that I can teach her not only how to be a good parent, should be choose to be one one day, but to be a wonderful friend. To listen, to know when you step back, to know when to step in, to be honest.
As any best friend is, you are one of the first people I want to share good news with, to go to when the news is bad. Especially when the news is bad because you are also my mum and you above all know how to comfort me in those times. So, thank you, Mum, for being my best friend. I am so lucky to have you feature in my life in more than one capacity.
Yours with so much love,
Your youngest, your last baby, your friend,
Sam.
I am considering a change but I can’t decide on which I like best, so I need your help. Please vote on the poll below!
ETA Note: You can’t vote directly from Google Reader (not sure about other RSS readers), so go direct to the page. Sorry about that!
Thanks a bunch. ♥
After a weekend of moodiness and emotional roller coaster rides (yay hormones and yay biological procreation clock) I began Monday with a positive attitude. You know, the kind you force yourself to have even though you really want to stomp your feet and yell about how crappy your white, middle-class, Western life can be.
All was fairly well. I was mentally going over my to-do list: French class, finish and hand in statistics assignment, appointment. I was all of about 5 minutes from university when I remember that I had forgotten to put my memory stick into my back. The one with my 95% complete assignment on it. Cue internal cursing and much internal stomping of feet.
Then I had an epiphany! I had remembered by netbook with my 50% complete assignment file still stored on it, so halle-freakin’-lujah, I wasn’t entirely screwed. Had to skip a few things, but at least I wasn’t having to start at square one.
Yeah man, life is soooo tough! 
Yesterday I ventured back to the Nike outlet store to get the right shoe, literally. My eldest sister actually called them after I did and tried to get them to send the correct shoe to me because it never should have happened in the first place and was technically more their fault than mine. But unfortunately I would have had to courier one shoe to them, then they would send the right one back to me and reinburse me for the trouble/postage. Or I could just go back to the store. I opted to go back in order to ensure I actually did get the correct shoe and to save the time and hassle of couriering. They gave me a 50% discount on any purchase I made while I was there, so I grabbed a sports bra which I needed anyway.
While I was at the mall I couldn’t help myself. I went back and got the creepy bride T.U.K. shoes from WildPair. Then I proceeded to prance around the supermarket wearing them. They are a hot pair of heels, let me tell you. No more shopping for me for awhile!
Speaking of shopping though, here’s a few photos of some recent purchases! LOL
Scarf, bought from uni market.
Badges, also from uni market.
Matryoshka doll, bought a few weeks ago.
Today I opted to skip my two classes and stay home after a restless night made worse by one of the cats howling for not apparent reason, for ages, in the middle of the night. Probably not the best idea on my part, but I could not face that damn bus as that time of the morning, feeling like the zombie I did. Now I shall go and do my statistics assignment!
As agonising as it is for me to admit when I’ve done something wonderfully stupid, I am going to admit it anyway, instead of entirely blaming it on other people.
Last week I decided I needed a new pair of gym sneakers and today, after having looked in the usual stores at my local mall, I went to an outlet mall 30 minutes from my house in order to hopefully find a bargain. After looking in the Addidas and New Balance stores with no luck, I finally found myself in the Nike store (did you know their logo has a name? It’s called a Swoosh). I walked past the high-tops that make feet look swollen (what? Those shoes have a lot of puff!) and saw what I was looking for: a great pair of good-looking, nicely priced crosstrainers (Lunarlite Speed model, if you must know). But were they comfortable?
Oh yes, yes they were. And, remarkably, the white silver ones were oh-so-much comfier than the white and blue pair! Who would have thought. It took me all of 5 seconds to make up my mind about purchasing. But wait, is that a slight mark on that beautiful pair of size 9s? Hm, no thank you very much, must change the pair. So, I get another size 9 box, checked the sizing of one shoe, decided all is well and went to the cashier.
The cashier. You either get a good one or a bad one. She was friendly enough, but the poor dear wasn’t able to tell if the shoes actually had a security tag on them or not and had to walk the box through the front doors’ security system in order to check. No beeping, thus I was safe from the embarrassment of setting alarms off as I left. Unfortunately our dear cashier neglected to check the sizing of the shoes, something I am of the opinion should be mandatory as a cashier in a store that sells shoes, even if the customer has assured them that they are indeed the size-x he or she is after.
No matter, I am oblivious. It is horribly WARM in this store. I am beginning to sweat. Maybe even smell a bit. Must leave quickly and go to the part of the mall where the air conditioning appears to working properly. So, shoes are paid for, cashier thanked, assured another employee for the 4th time that, no, I really didn’t want to get another pair of shoes for half price. I left store and trotted off to find some food with my sister, shopping complete and, I thought, successful.
I come home, excited to look at my new purchases, especially my gym shoes which I plan on wearing tomorrow for my workout. I even want to take a photo of them so I can upload it to my Flickr and share them on my blog, and maybe Twitter, Facebook and LiveJournal, too! I finish tying the laces up when it suddenly dawns on me… Are these….are these shoes two left shoes?
Hang on a minute, are they two left shoes and….different sizes? I hastily check the sizing in each shoe and find that, indeed, no only are they two left shoes, they are two completely different sizes. One size is a 9, the other is an 8. Oh shit. Ohshitohshitohshit. There is no way I’m going to be able to go back to the mall today to change them, so no new shoes for my workout tomorrow. 
Now I’m sitting here, after having called the store in order to see if they could send the right pair to my local Nike store, but they are unable to. Something about them being an outlet store and my local one not. Fair enough. But now I have to go back there tomorrow, inconveniencing my mum because I can’t legally drive myself.
I could very easily blame it all on the cashier who didn’t check the sizing. Surely, if she had, she would have noticed they were different and two left shoes, thus avoiding this whole situation to begin with. But I am not going down that path, I am admitting that I should have checked thoroughly. After all, if I had noticed a mark on one shoe, I should be vigilant enough to notice two left shoes and two different sizes. I screwed up; I was an ‘unengaged consumer’. Now I have a pair of useless gym shoes. Pretty yes, but useless.
I must note, however, that my shopping adventures weren’t completely unsuccessful. I did pay a visit to Wild Pair shoe store where I found the most fantastic range of shoes: T.U.K Shoes. At first I wanted to get the pair of heels with the creepy bride on them, but decided on the cupcake wedges. I do plan on going back though…and also raiding their online store.
This morning in my statistics lecture I won a mini Crunchie Bar for participating in a game to demonstrate probability. Yay for me, I got a treat! The only treats I will consuming for the next Really Long Time are those that are bought for me but not at my request, or won. Having a set of scales in the bathroom is now daily proof of what poor eating habits I have formed since becoming omnivorous again.
I guess after 8 years of no meat burgers and no salami and limited pizza selections it’s been like being a kid in a candy shop, not knowing what to eat first. So I just ate it all. And now it’s on my tummy, hips, bum and thighs, jiggling there for me to feel as I waddle walk along.
Okay, so I’m not a whale, but I am certainly overweight and I really don’t like it at all. I was never overly bothered by my weight in the past, not to the point where I ever dieted or did anything to really actively keep it at a place I felt comfortable. However, since gaining weight over the last year, I have become acutely aware of it, of my body, of feeling ‘gross’, but even more so of the health implications that carrying extra weight can have. More than anything I would like to be fit and healthy, without excess fat.
So far I am going to the gym 3 times a week and trying to do at least 30 minutes of exercise (usually treadmill at home) on the other days. The food thing is…okay. Ish. I’m a terribly foodie, and by terrible I mean that I tend to gravitate towards the more unhealthy end of the spectrum, despite the fact I do enjoy eating healthy meals. It is very frustrating to be such a junk food person and I’m really trying to cut down but am struggling a lot, unfortunately. I know it will take time, so I guess all I can do is stick at it and try my best!
Anyway, that is all for now!
