The friendly service provider people called me this morning to inform that your International Roaming has been activated and yeah I guess it’s a little bit too late for that since you left on a jet plane (shut up Chantal Kreviazuk) yesterday. I guess we’ll be incommunicado for the next couple of days until you’ve settled down and come to realization that you are missing me verreh much (as much as I’m missing you but I’m too proud to admit that). I know I promised to send you pieces of me (shut up Ashlee Simpson) I mean, a photo a day like we always do everytime you go away (shut up Paul Young) but I’m just not feeling very pretty these days.
Remember the ‘paradigm shift’ that I spoke of when I got back from my career development training? About making changes in self, stepping out from the routine for a change? So here’s my first paradigm shift – I’m not sending you my daily photos. Perhaps it’s best if we stay out of touch this time around. Hell no, I’m not breaking up with you – I just thought that you should miss me more than I miss you (yes, it’s all about me me me again). My second paradigm shift for the day is that I ate a teaspoon of your favorite ice cream in my freezer. I know I said I wouldn’t touch your macadamia brittle ice cream with a ten-foot pole (what’s up with boys and ice cream anyway?) but I was bored last night. I think you should start buying me ice cream again, instead of stuffing MY freezer with YOUR ice cream. It was kinda sweet – your ice cream that is. Can a teaspoon of ice cream keep the misery away? Guess we’ll have to see then.
I managed to kick-start my Recept*on Theory paper that I’m due to present this Friday. I’m tackling H. R. Jauss this time around, some German literary historian who’s a part of the Rezeptionsästhetik methodology. If I present my no-substance paper with a smattering of German, do you think I’d be able to fool my professor and my classmates? Have you ever wondered why I even bother letting myself tangled in this imbroglio? Does it make you proud dating a Lit Major or do you think I should really stop acting like an arrogant and emotional flippant who's trying too hard? cLit Theory drives me crazy, I mean I rather be studying Literary Criticism instead (which is twice as hard). But hey, I’ve gotten this far and it would be a waste to just give up halfway. I tried to stay up last night, but succumbed to long siesta the minute the crazy wanker upstairs start to move his furniture in the middle of the night. I think there’s a werewolf or some mutant pygmy living upstairs. You see, the minute the clock strikes 12, he starts moving his furniture. As much as you would like to believe - NO, he’s not having sex and NO, there’s no secret harem either, he, just, likes, to, move, his, furniture. A lot. Perhaps he’s wanking himself using his furniture? (horny pgymy? like, eeuw)
Amiaq has asked me to go back-packing with him to Bangkok this weekend. He said it’d be a good exercise for me if I decide to travel to Europe next year. Back-packing? And we’re taking a train? Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! I think I’ll stay at home this weekend paint my nails and assuage my boredom by uhm, moving furniture.
Have a great holiday mein engel. Send my eternal love to Sean Bean.
Yours, /n.
* Dear all, for the next 2 weeks I’ll be posting what-I-call ‘The Days without You Series’ – a collection of unsent letters that I compose daily to my love schmendrik. A little caveat: it’s full of schmoop but nonetheless a documentation of my life per se. The series will end on the 8th of September 2004. Trust to keep you informed.
