Snow, Snow and More Snow!

Having endured spending "consumer holiday" trapped indoors watching people eating turkey, I decided to treat myself to a little bit of internet shopping binge. As it is appropriate to spend a gross amount of money on excessive materialism during the month of December, I bought two pairs of shoes on Spring shoes.com. I normally buy all my shoes second hand because a) a self-righteous vegetarian like myself never buys leather goods new in placing a demand for the market and b) I simply cannot afford to buy new shoes. This Christmas I indulged in buying new while adhering to my morals and budget for both pairs are on sale and neither of them are made of real leather, Hurray!

Unfortunately, I am unable to upload pictures of my newly ordered shoes, because Springshoes.com won't let me download them for copy right reasons. So I'm afraid I'm just going to have to take pictures of them once they arrive. But I will say that one of them is a pair of multi strapped, tan ballet flats for spring and summer (I am a little early and over zealous, I know) and the second are a pair of ass-kicking, knee high combat boots for rest of the long winter months. Perhaps the most paradoxical purchace I have ever made, but they are amazing nevertheless. Stay tuned for photos...

At last, I am finished!

As I finished my last exam for the semester, I breathed a sigh of relief; It feels good to be free at last!
It's been super cold lately and I am afraid to imagine what the rest of winter is going to be like. Perhaps like all sun-lovers, I am experiencing some mild symptoms of SAD and along with quitting smoking, I am extremely agitated and petulant. However, my days have been pretty livable for I have found new love in a band called "Moriarty". A 6 piece, independent French Cabaret/Folk/Blues band with a female singer, who sounds like Billie Holiday. Full of beautiful progressions and soulful melodies they go well with any amount of snow, I think my winter will be alright.
Sooooo cold~

I didn't even get to wiggle in my dress it was so cold.

Outing with Mickey

Biopsych is no more! Just finished another grueling final yesterday, and as soon as I was finished I recycled all my notes. I swear, if I see or hear words like "action potential", "hormone receptor" or "hypothalamus" I'm going to lose my shit and blow my jaw off with two guns.

Today is the first day where I can exhale (exams are like bad farts...you need to hold your breath and power your way through them), and actually physically leave the house to do something leisurely I'd say it's about time because I was starting to turn purple and hallucinate from sensory deprivation. It's hazy and foggy out and I am going out downtown with Dan in a few and I am excited as ever...about both the mist and breaking out of my voluntary confinement.

1 Down and 3 More to Go

I just got home from completing my first exam and it sure feels liberating! I have one more tomorrow then I get a week to study for my remaining two, coming up next weekend.

Throughout the course, I have learned much about interpersonal relationships but found that the theories explaining the relationship phenomenons simply do not delve deep enough to account for the complexity of intimate interactions. For example, attachment theories are too broad, and a lot of the components do not take static factors such as personality into consideration --- perhaps the reason why a man is considered "insecure" in his attachment behaviors as an adult is because he was a very precocious boy. Thus in his case, his independent nature can be misattributed by some as him being distant and uninvolved.

I felt like crap today because I am stressed and breaking the fuck out (there are three zits on my face), so I decided to hide in my most fuzzy and comfortable "abstract art" sweater and I gotta say, giant, thrifted sweaters are the best!

Totally Irrelevant

For some reason, I have this vivid image in my head of a young woman in a full-skirted trench coat wearing a cloche hat and with painted red lips, standing at a train station with tears in her eyes watching her husband drifting into the horizon with the train. Along with this image I have also a story that goes with it. They were married for merely three months, and the husband was shipped to France during World War II as a part of the mission of the Normandy Invasion. He of course, like so many others died during the battle and so he never returned to his wife back at home. The message of his death was lost along the way therefore never reached her, so she waited and waited...not knowing that he had died during the war, she spent her whole life waiting for him to come home.

I'm sure there are many tragic love stories out there like mine (though, it isn't much of a story as it is just a scenario resulting from the the random synaptic firings in my head), but as not a pessimist but a realist, these epic love tales are never truthful to real life. As much as I would like to believe in ever lasting love, the statistics on divorce rates in North America paints a picture so bleak, so that any ideal thus fragile notions would become frozen solid, brittle over time then eventually shattered and destroyed...this makes me a sad but an honest panda...
"Why would people vow to love each other forever, then part ways after only several years?" "If it's possible to fall out of love then why would people lie and promise eternity to one another?"...
If you think I am going to propose my theory or arrive at a conclusion on the beliefs of love over the years of experiences and many cases of trail and error then you think wrong, my friend. The truth is, though I have been studying the dynamics of human integrations and behaviors for the past four years, "love" like many other unmeasurable intangibles, can only be inferred, but not understood completely. Therefore, any attempt to solve or even to conceptualize the great mystery of "love' can only be deemed as mere route of possibilities, not definitive answers.

So, we're back to square one, "what is love?" (refrain from singing "baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me no more") Check out these outfits while you pounder about it...

I apologize if you can't see the details on my shirt, but it's a polka dot shirt (the dots are really tiny).Robin is totally the underdog, that's why I love him!

I had the white dress since I was 13...I'm pleasantly surprised that it still fits but regretfully saddened by my stunted growth.

Procrastination Truly is an Art !

Foist and foremost, I'd like to wish one of my best friends, Dora a happy happy first day of being 25! You are more beautiful and wise than ever, I wish the best for your upcoming years...stay awesome!

Now for the not-so-celebrated-news, my first batch of finals are less than two days! Yet I am blogging and updating outfit pictures. I promised I'd take a picture of my purple skirt, diamond sweater ensemble once I set up my camera for "self-portrait". Well, I tend to always keep my words, so here it is...

I'm wearing a different pair of shoes for I had left my semi-combat boots at Dan's house, but I think these achieve the same effect?

Here is what I wore yesterday to Dora's birthday party and I gotta say, the hat was definitely the money maker. All I need is a tobacco pipe and a tweed jacket with elbow patches to complete the proverbial "professor look".

Uuuhg....!

It's 8:46 in the morning, on a rainny Friday, and my umbrella is broken...again.

I have no class today but I came to school anyway in an attempt to get some work done, namely my psych 363 paper. But let me tell ya, this was a foolish notion because around this time of day, an over-worked student's brain DOES NOT WORK!!! Instead, I find myself surfing random websites such and of course blogging, unconsciously putting off writing the damn thing. Now, I know some of you morning people may think 8:46 is hardly considered early and that I'm being a bit of a wiener for complaining, but I am a total night owl! I'm much more productive after dusk, and would much rather pull an all-nighter studying. Plus, I actually woke up at 6 A.M. along with my boyfriend, so he can lock the door because I have no key.

I haven't my camera present, but I've got a good outfit going on right now, so I will post pictures of my outfit "in situ", ergo me wearing them later. But for now, I've found pictures of the pieces via google image and ebay as "static" representatives (accesories not inluded!)...


My sweater is more "Bill Cosby" and thrifted and less argyle and form-fitting than this. I also have on a skinny belt and a black scarf.


Again, mine was thrifted, kneed length but less "mom-ish" more "mod". Under this I have on black leggings.


Thrifted thus more "scuffs and buffs", less "combat" more "victorian".

Killing Time In the Memory Lab

Sometimes, I miss my dreads a great deal...

I should probably be revising my paper for psych 362 right now, but what little enjoyment I get out of critically analyzing Garden State, is slowly diminishing with every instances of "reading-and-rewriting". Instead, I am blogging. -- salvaging whatever sanity I have left so close to exams.

On a completely unrelated topic...

I've been trying to establish the perfect harmony between grunge and lolita-esque styles of fashion while remaining campy and not contrived like an angry teenager trying to be poetic (ie Avril Lavigne).

Perhaps this look is along the lines of what I desire. Her style is truly captivating!

November Sun

After week of heavy rain, it sure was refreshing to see some sun. I gotta say, the world is so much more alive and radiant in luminescence!
Friends and I went on a picture taking rendezvous around the SFU campus. The results are very pleasing to eye.

Shalini and Aaron were walking ahead of me most of the time because I was too preoccupied with picture taking. Everything was so bright and shiny, I was distracted with every head-turn.

Who says SFU looks prison-esk? This is gorgeous!
It was a very unproductive day in terms of getting learning done, but who wants to sit in a lecture hall for three hours while you can be outside, basking in the sunshine?

Birthday Blues

I just recently survived my 22nd birthday and I am now reflecting on the whole experience and concluded that it was not only anticlimactic but also a little bit depressing. It landed on a Sunday, thusly the "celebration" kicked in as soon as the weekend began. People around me seemed to be a lot more enthusiastic about me being born 22 years ago on that day than myself. Of course I did have some very memorably delightful moments during this weekend-long hoopla, but the I find the overall experience to be self serving, unnecessary and a waste of resources.
Generally speaking I am not a negative person, I am hopeful about many different things. I believe in the "power of one". I advocate the assumptions of innate human goodness and am particularly good at recognizing the purpose and benevolence of every single occurrences in life, big or small. But when it comes to the day where everyone is obligated to make you feel "special", I simply cannot seem to enjoy the moment.
Perhaps the root of my tendency to devalue my birthday stems from parental neglect as a child. After all, the only memories of me having any fun on my birthday was me at two years old, eating Chinese dumplings. And again at four, receiving a pink music card in the mail from my parents, whom left me after my second birthday for a three-year-long business trip.
When I think of birthday, I think of balloons, cakes, candles, confetti and other childish knick-knacks. Therefore maybe only children under the age of twelve get excited about celebrating their birthdays, I mean what can a twenty-two year old do for her birthday that can be considered exciting or extraordinary? Invite a bunch of people to a birthday party whom perhaps are only there because they feel obligated? Go out and consume a ridiculous amount of alcohol which later exacerbate the "birthday blues"? Hire a clown to perform magic tricks for me and all my friends in class? Clearly, none of the aforementioned activities make a "happy birthday" and would definitely not make me feel appreciated or special.
After careful analysis, I think the source of my birthday related head-funk is predominantly due to social anxiety. Having so much emphasis being place on the day on which I was born is a little unnerving. I feel as if though people are only treating the birthday person well because it is his/her birthday and not because they truly like him/her or they want him/her to feel important. Furthermore, to me it just doesn't feel natural that we are still hullaballoo-ing about a birth that happened two decades ago. I often feel like a self-centered asshole, demanding attention and expecting presents from friends and families. I think perhaps some people even use birthdays as a "get out of jail free" card. I'm not anti-celebration, I believe in festive acts, I think they bring people together and reinforces valued behaviors. I just don't think birthdays are that big of deals. All in all, I just don't see anything worth celebrating for, so to complete this negativity ridden post, I wallow in my own despair brought on by the proverbial feeling of "another year older, and none the wiser."

p.s. I think it is a good thing that I felt shitty about my birthday, because it prompt me to want write again...I am much more communicative when I'm slightly uncomfortable in life.