Different Paths

I've just spent the last 10 minutes analyzing pictures of an old high school classmate's boobs, observing them from different angles, wondering if they're real. Even I'm a little disgusted at how fascinated I am with them - I'm not the kind of girl who's particularly interested in breasts - but they're just so different from how I last saw them. SHE'S so different from how I last saw her.

And then it hit me - how different our paths are, since we went our separate ways after high school. I mean, we were never really close friends - actually, I didn't even know her that well - but I consider many of the people I went to high school with quite similar to me. Middle-class, Asian, reasonably good at school, reasonably well-behaving...

And here we are. She's...I think she's a shooter girl? A bartender? An alcohol promoter? And a "glamour model" (i.e. men's interest model) on the side, with very large, very fake breasts. (Side note: Why would someone so naturally well-proportioned and lovely make such a choice? Now she has a date with the knife every few years - so painful and scary and unnecessary. I hope it's at least made a huge difference in her income.) She has a boyfriend who looks like a total douche (not unlike her high school boyfriend, actually) who apparently makes enough money to buy her diamonds for Valentine's Day and to own a few very expensive cars.

I, on the other hand, am still an impoverished student, doing postgraduate studies, who just spent all my money applying to law school - to the point that I don't have any funds at all to buy anyone Christmas presents this year :( - still struggling in my quest to become self-sufficient. Single, by most definitions of the word, and, though not unfortunate-looking, not model-esque by any stretch of the imagination. Too chicken sh!t to go under the knife for anything that's not absolutely necessary for my health.

I guess I'm a little self-centered. I always thought that Asian girls my age are all doing what my friends and I are - going through too much school or starting to break out into the workforce doing jobs that require us to be, um, fully-clothed. Apparently that's not so!

Santa Stories

image source

Do you remember when you found out the truth about Santa Claus?

I honestly don't. I do remember, however, that I didn't let on that I found out for a year or two because I wanted that extra present. :P Sneaky, I know.

It's like the biggest but also the most well-meaning hoax in the world, Santa Claus. (If you're one of those crazy folks who argue that he's a satanic figure, blah, blah, blah, SCREW OFF GO AWAY and read something else!) Finding out about him though, seems to be a symbol of a loss of innocence, or an awakening of logic, depending on how you describe your glass.

I personally hate it when people don't play along (like one of my uncles, who very seriously broke the news to my cousin when she was in grade one) because I think children lose their innocence and become alarmingly cynical too soon these days, and particularly because their children tend to ruin it for everyone else's kids on the playground. Also, it's because I really like the idea that it's a big game that everyone plays together all over the world, that unites all of us, even though there are different interpretations in different countries.

A couple weeks ago, my sweet friend, Dutchman, enlightened me about Dutch Santa Claus (or, rather, Sinterklaas). He said that in North Holland, where he's from, children are told that Santa lives in Madrid. He travels on a steamboat from Spain to their country and then he gets on rooftops (to access chimneys, you know) with the help of his horse. I think it's much more reasonable for every country to have their own Santa, don't you?

Anyway, Dutch children put their shoes in front of the fireplace and Dutch Santa will put a small gift in them, like a bag of chocolates or some other treats - the Dutch aren't as materialistic as we North Americans are, you know. :P If they've been bad, however, they will only get a bundle of sticks. The horse helps Santa climb onto rooftops, so to award/attract him, children will leave "horse food" (like carrots or some other veggies) in their shoes for him. Oh, and their Santa is also not obese - more proof that he's not the same guy as his North American counterpart!

I asked Dutchman how and when he found out about Santa, and he said he was about seven or so. He said that he noticed that the food he left out for Santa's horse ended up back in his fridge the next day, so he put two and two together. So clever, right?

And you, how and when did you discover the truth about Santa? If you didn't grow up in North America, what were you told about him?

P.S. Happy Holidays!!! XOXOXO

My Winter Break To-Do List

The following might be - *gulp* - tangible proof that I'm growing up. After a particularly depraved and messy night, I've decided that I need to come up with a to-do list for myself for this very long break, to ensure that I am, to some degree, still being productive. So this is what I want to accomplish during the break:

1. Find a job.
2. Clean my sh!thole of a room. (If that's not evidence of growing up, I don't know what is.)
3. Read El amor en los tiempos del cólera and Le Comte de Monte-Cristo in their original languages, just so I don't lose all of my Spanish and French.
4. Read Lolita.
   
5. Cook and eat healthy food and, by extension, not fall off track with my project when Christmas rolls around.
6. Drop a dress size.
7. Apply to UBC and maybe UVic.
8. See my friends a lot.
9. Watch all the TV shows my mum's saved up and veg out next to the fireplace with her.
10. Find an internship, maybe.
    

So there it is! I'm putting this up here so I can't go back on my word - hold me accountable!

Mr. Nice Guy

Wikipedia was right about him. How convenient for me. Personal observations I've made independently, however, are as follows:

He absolutely lives up to "Mean what you say and say what you mean," and he also expects it of people. That's why he's the most unassuming person in the world, which is as endearing as it is frustrating.

It's almost as if he believes that everyone is well-intentioned. He's very child-like in that way. He sees la vie en rose and he is optimistic and he's pure of heart. He also sees the good in everyone. And if you win him over the first time he meets you, he'll always be on your side.

He doesn't dislike anyone, even if they're unpleasant, and he'd never talk smack about someone behind their back, which is why it makes him rather uncomfortable when he is an audience to such activity. It took some creativity and gentleness on my part when he asked me why people do this and I had to explain the fact of life to him that, honey, some people are just vindictive. And/or nosy.

But the paradox is that, while he's cheeky and child-like in some respects, he's also very street smart, probably because he's seen so much of the world. He's quite cosmopolitan, although it's somewhat common for "his kind." He's also a techno-nerd but musical. He's a party animal but he's very chill. Interesting combinations.

He's not that charming or charismatic, but he's so good-looking it makes up for that. Because of him I know that "big, brown eyes can hypnotize." He does this zapping thing with his that goes straight to my spine.

His most fascinating characteristic, to me, is that he's intimidatingly observant. He can perceive all kinds of things visually at a single glance that most people wouldn't see. It's made me wonder what he sees when he looks at me, but then I have to stop thinking about it, because I conclude that he probably sees all kinds of things about me that I hope he doesn't notice. Thankfully, he's too nice to ever note those things, or to make a person feel uncomfortable because of them.

And everywhere he goes, everyone he meets probably has the same reaction when they meet him: "Wow, what a Nice Guy."

14 Down!

Another quick update on my project - I'm 14 pounds and roughly a dress size down! It's exciting because other people are starting to notice, too, so it's no longer just "small things that only someone who sees me naked every day would notice (i.e. myself)." My friends at school have been particularly encouraging, and I love them even more for that.

Now, I'm about the same size I was when I first came home from Europe, or maybe I'm slightly smaller than that. I'm also about the same size I was when I first graduated from high school, but I'm a little chestier than I was back then.

I still have quite a ways to go, though. I'm still 26 pounds away from a healthy BMI, although I was told by my friend that those aren't entirely reliable because it doesn't take into account your bone size and muscle mass, etc. For vanity reasons, I'd also love to lose another two or three dress sizes. So I guess it all depends on whichever comes first.

Being the inherent worrywart that I am, though, I'm already dreading a plateau. But I'll handle that when I get there.

There's a mantra in the weight loss community that seems to be really popular: "Nothing tastes as good as thin feels."

I'm not sure I agree with that. In fact, anyone who says that and loves eating as much as I do is clearly deluding themselves. I REALLY love food. Eating something spectacularly tasty makes me really, really happy. It actually does.

And while getting smaller is great...I'm not really on the kind of high I thought I'd be in. Like, part of me wonders if my clothes are taking pity on me and expanding a bit so that I can fit into them again...

I think personally, for me, the satisfaction of eating amazing food wins out slightly over feeling pretty, which is surprising, because I've always considered myself pretty vain.

But I think that the important thing is that, for the most part, I'm still eating the things that I want - just less. I don't deprive myself so I don't hate life and feel sorry for myself. I think that's super important. My mom lost a lot of weight successfully over a decade ago, but gained it all back and more pretty much because she felt really sorry for herself for the kind of lifestyle she had to lead to get there. When I started doing this, I made sure I didn't make any changes that I'm not willing to live with, and that's why I think I'm on the right track.

Miss You Much

This Is Why Some Girls Fall for the Creepers

I was having a nice dinner with a boy that I loved. It was really, really early into the relationship and we were still in the getting-to-know-you stage - in fact, we were so eager to find out anything and everything about each other that we were going through the pictures in each other's cell phones. He came across a photo of me where I was very heavily made up and bathed in flattering light, and my hair was professionally done. He asked me who it was and, surprised, I told him that it was me.

He looked totally flabbergasted, eyes wide open, and exclaimed (what would translate to), "No way! It can't be!"

I get that I look like two different people with and without makeup (see picture - but note that the one on the right wasn't the one we were disagreeing over), but really, was that necessary? I promised him that it really was me, and after a few back-and-forth denials and assurances, which eventually turned to vehement insistence on my part, he looked at my picture really closely and handed my phone back to me with his eyebrows still up in his hairline and told me, in his dreamy, exotic lilt, "Very beautyful."

Um, wasn't I very beautiful to him bare-faced, which was how he saw me most of the time? Sexy accent aside (I'm a sucker for those), I should have been annoyed with him. And I would have been, except I was TOTALLY besotted with him at the time and I was still gaga over a picture I found on his phone. It was a shot of his breastpocket, on the long, white jacket that he wears to work every day, with the words "Dr." and his surname embroidered across it. (Intelligence is the most potent aphrodisiac.)

Now, he was actually a really great guy and he made me feel a lot more beautiful than I ever thought I'd get to feel, but this is how guys seem to treat girls they don't think they need to impress anymore because they know they like them for sure. This is how they act when they feel like they don't have to always be on their best behaviour anymore.

Today, some rando just tried to add me on Facebook. I didn't recognize his name, but his photo didn't look totally unfortunate. He wrote:

"so after lookin at ur display pic ive decided u are drop dead gorgeous and even if u dont add me back i just had to let u know that you have a new # 1 fan and its me so keep on smilin babe"

Then I saw the groups he belonged to and was so disgusted I couldn't even look at his face anymore.

But disgustingness and poor punctuation aside, isn't it nice to be told out of the blue that you're drop dead gorgeous? Too bad random creepers tend to do it a lot more than boys I actually like. If only the boys I date would take a hint...

Being Productive

Seasons

Six Down!

An update on my little project: I'm six pounds down! YAY ME!!!

I still have quite a ways to go, but this is huge for me, because, well, who knew I had the willpower to be here? Who knew I had it in me? Certainly not me.

When I run my hands down my front, I can feel that the dip in my waist is a little more pronounced. My pants and my watch are a teeny bit looser. My S is more curved. The changes are all small things that only someone who sees me naked every day would notice (i.e. myself) but I'm happy they're there, anyway.

I began three weeks ago, and right off the bat, it wasn't smooth sailing. There were tons of ups and downs because of life drama - it probably wasn't the best time to start, but there are always a ton of excuses not to just do it, right? So I worked hard for almost one week, then everything was shot to pieces for a week because of said drama (I'll tell you what it is when the time comes!), then I've been working hard for a week again, but with some different allowances.

Two pounds a week is pretty healthy, and I'm glad. Before I started this I had some rather unhealthy ideas of how I was going to accomplish my goal. I thought I'd just whip off the pounds in a few months by extreme dieting, but thankfully, I found a great resource that knocked some sense back into me and led me down a healther path.

It's Calorie Count and it's an awesome website. It taught me the healthy way to do things, how not to mess up my metabolism by being too extreme and trying to lose the weight too quickly - because, you know, the faster you lose the weight the less likely it will stay off. I hate the idea of working so hard for nothing.

They also have a great database for - you guessed it - counting your calories. They don't have a ton of ethnic foods, but they do have some pretty obscure stuff, which is helpful. Also, my fitness thing has also forced me to cook more, because it's easier to count calories when you know exactly what's in your food, so healthy eating is also saving me money.

Now, the only party pooper is that, on the site, where they chart the changes in your weight, they also factor in your average weight loss day-to-day and calculate how much of the weight you lost is water weight. So apparently, I've only *really* lost three pounds. But I don't care, and I look at it like six anyway, because this number wouldn't have shown up on my scale three weeks ago!

YAY!!! :D