21st countdown & a penny board

Bought myself my 21st birthday, birthday present. It seems like my subconscious is trying to hint something here. "Asha, you might be turning 21 but you go ahead and buy that toy looking board and you go scrape your knee. Get a few bruises! YOLO."

No, I don't really say yolo. I never say yolo.  

Was also reunited with family friends over the weekend. Parents were thrilled, awkward at first for us the young ones but the 3 of us got there in the end. A more than enjoyable night to say the least. The brother was, so you may say, was my womb bff's. Our mothers were inseparable and conveniently preggers around the same time. She of course, became my godmother. I'm 2 months older, and I guess me and him were inseparable for the first few years of our lives. Of course, none of my proper friendships ever lasted, so this was no exception. His family left Hong Kong and started their lives in Australia permanently. It's been nearly 10 to 15 years since I last saw any of them. 

We remember some strange chocolate milk & seaweed obsession. That they had a huge TV set, and he always, ALWAYS made me cry. I've had a couple of childhood buds who have totally no recollection of my existence. When I would talk about "the good ol' days", possibly swimming naked in their paddling pool, they'd give me an empty stare and I could just barely hear them say hiss through their eyes, "Why are you so obsessed with me?"

So I was more relieved than I was thrilled that someone finally shared my memory. That it wasn't just some only child's fantasy of having friends and having memories, she did not really have.

So I got a trip down memory lane. Oh, the joy of being 3 again. 

"Friendship" is a serious issue to me, I'm 21 and I haven't found that one person that I would call, message, skype everyday just to update or rant to. It's become so ridiculously important to me that I have even started to panic about who would be my maid of honor. YES I AM THAT LAME. Yeah sure, loads of potential mates that have been through so much crap with me, and are my dearest dearest. But it's not supposed to be that way. You don't just line them all up in front of you, put your hand over your eyes, do a twirl & point. It's supposed to be a no brainer, easy peasy, not even a question sort of situation. 

Ugh, turning 21. 

#firstworldproblems

In the words of Yellowcard

"They say you don't grow up you just grow old
it's safe to say I haven't done both

So Many people close to me cut me down
This is supposed to be a bad luck town
I jumped, I fell, I hit the ground,
But here I am alive"

NSEW

Last weekend till I finally become, long awaited, University student. 

Shame on me for taking nearly 2 years to get my head straight. To be honest, I don't know how long it'll stay screwed on. Might come across an incompetent lecturer or two and I'll have an excuse to drop out. Again. Yes, I have dropped out of many hobbies, subjects and some aspects of life. I just can't be able to stick to one thing. I might lurk around busy corridors or behind the classroom so the smart kid and his humongous head filled with useless knowledge hides my face. 

It's going to take lots, and I mean LOTS of self control, will power and whatnot to keep me in that campus for 4 years. Four soul sucking years. Gracing each faculty member with my radiant willing-to-learn presence. 

Perhaps, 

"I shall stay until the wind changes."

"There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter & bleed."

After many a nagging from both partner and father, I finally got around to watch Midnight In Paris, written & directed by the awkward yet ingenious Woody Allen. Dad's been a fan ever since I was old enough to remember watching Woody Allen films with him. I was expecting the expected. The same ol', same ol' enjoyment, freshness and originality. I keep trying to lie to myself, to convince myself that his films and his brillance are all equally overrated. 

It was just a big fat lie. It was nothing short of perfection. 

Each scene into the story tickled my fancy, maybe it's because I'm aspiring to be some form of writer. Every mention of histories greatest, a squeak escaped my throat. Basking in the ambience of such heroes. But who was I kidding? Out of the dozen artists and authors mentioned, I knew only a handful. Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Picasso, Gertrude Stein. Yes, I've heard of them, walked by them, possibly read a few paragraphs. I'm sure by now you've established the fact that I am not the most cultural of people. I don't understand much of the abstract paintings hung on marble museum walls, or read many of the dusty books stacked neatly in the literature shelves of lifeless libraries. But hey, my jaw still dropped in a brief awe as I watched each literature reference being introduced in Midnight In Paris. I didn't turn to my father asking, "Who's Hemingway?" So there still might be some hope for me. I am not a complete, literature wannabe loser.  

3 quotes from this movie got me thinking. 

"I would like you to read my novel & get your opinion." - Gill

To conclude, writers will hate all writing except their own. 

Perhaps to be fair, I hate writing that is similar to mine. If we have different styles, sure, feel free, go ahead, write away dear fellow. 

All these quotes just brought back so many memories of my English Literature class back in Bournemouth. It was the year I finally took on Eng Lit as a class, seeing as I never had the chance studying in a local Chinese school. How I got into Literature is a whole other story that I must leave for future blogging material. So basically, there was a girl who, let's just say, we had a mutual unspoken battle between each other. Some of my writing coursework made our professor laugh out loud in front of the whole class, this class containing less than 10 that decreased by the week. He would chuckle his British chuckle, saying "This is brilliant." Gloating in my own little world, I could feel the words Challenge Accepted being thrown across the classroom and hit me on the head. It would then be her turn, and he'd mutter an equally annoying compliment, and I would be sending dagger death threats via brainwaves. 

A brutal battlefield. 

In a nutshell.