2005-06-12
at 9:51 p.m.
Phuket
A few days ago I made the amazing discovering that weeding is therapeutic. As in, weeding gardens. I will weed your garden for $4 per square meter! Weeding is hypnotising. It's like squatting in the sun for hours on end, picking at little green things on the ground. You have no idea how satisfying it is knowing you have plucked every single bad thing off the ground. It's like cleansing your soul! Or if you're pissed at someone the weeds are like that person's head. Plus, after squatting down for so long I think I get why gardeners are so hot (Jesse Metcalfe!). Or at least in the movies they are. I swear, gardening is a real workout. And after all that squatting in the sun you get a nice tan. Well, a nice tan that most people want, but I don't want. Anyway I shouldn't spill all the benefits of weeding because it's my job. Listen, weeding gardens suck. You should let me do all of it.
I deserve all that excercise anyway, since I'm ballet-deprived during the holidays. I am also baby-blue-matt-nail-polish deprived, blue-sunglasses-with-cherry-print-deprived, money-deprived, good-books-and-magizines-deprived, nice-clothes-deprived, and who can forget, holiday-deprived. On the contrary, the only thing I'm not deprived of is fats.
Which is why I CAN'T WAIT TO GET OUT OF THIS PLACE. I am going to invade Phuket tomorrow, armed with my hot pink shades and three bottles of sunblock. I hope they have Starbucks there (HAHA fat chance.) I will go swimming everyday! And if my parents don't allow me to go to the beach because they are afraid some tsunami will sweep me away, I will drown myself in the um.. sea. Everyday I'll sit by the beach under a nice coconut tree with loads of sunblock, my beloved shades and a huge stack of books. I must must must finish Pygmalion, Hong Lou Meng, that French romance novel my teacher lent me and that pretty magazine I managed to restrain from reading before the trip by stuffing in the luggage first. I'll bring along my camera so I can secretly snap pictures of hot guys (books are such convenient things to hide behind). And when I feel like it I'll do homework (I brought all of it along!) while listening to my ipod with all the not-so-great songs because musicmatch screwed up andits all in a mess. And who can forget a cup of ice cold coffee (assuming there is Starbucks or some other place that sells okay coffee.) If there isn't I guess nescafe 3-in-1 will have to do. I have such great plans! I will shop for pretty accessories, maybe go to the gym if I happen to be over the age limit, get my nails painted because I am absolutely hopeless at it unless its some glittery shade where the glitter hides all your mistakes.
Don't you dare tell me anything bad right now because I have four days to seriously enjoy the holidays, and if you kill my excitement I will kill you.
This is all so cheesy and whoopdeedoo-this-is-a-life-changing-moment-ish but it's true, and I know I'm sad. I'm repainting my room! One wall is purple and the other walls are light purple. It feels so house-spirit-ish! But actually it's purple because they didn't have a satisfactory shade of pink, green or blue. I will get pretty curtains to go with it. If you think purple is a bad colour, tell me after I get back from my trip. But by then the walls would have been painted.
So in other words my life is perfect right now. All I need is that nail polish, those sunglasses, more books and magazines, more clothes, more money, a longer holiday, less fat, a smaller not so weird looking nose, whiter teeth, to be taller (!!!), sunblock that actually works, that pretty cat at rail mall, more accessories, and all my homework and performance tasks to be magically done.
I don't think I've ever been this close to perfection.