I am
...getting rained on in Tokyo.
...old enough to drink alcohol but not old enough to know when to stop.
...blogging since 02/22/03.
Tuesday, January 23, 2007
When "I have no idea how it got there" is not just a lame excuse I was slightly surprised when I caught the Boy looking at muscular guys doing each other on my laptop. I was even more surprised when it turned out that he had found it on my hard disk by accident. Apparently, I had had the movie for almost a year hiding among my other video clips, unnoticed. It was a complete mystery to me how it had gotten there but I was determined to solve it but it took me some trial and error, lots of giggling and an hour of my life before the metaphorical light bulb got any juice. So many lessons learnt that evening: Lesson #1: Men in gay p0rn look much better than in straight p0rn Lesson #2: They would look even better without any ridiculous angel and devil costumes Lesson #3: It's not a good idea to call your brother to ask him whether he gave you gay p0rn Lesson #4: When copying files from friends, stick to the titles that sound familiar.
It must be love I found out that what I generally refer to as "spoon massage" actually has a proper name. My friends know it as "a torture method applied to you when a flu has left you defenseless against the evil powers in the world (aka me)" but now that I can give them the proper Chinese term, people might be more willing to submit themselves to it. In the end, I just want to make people take their shirts of and hurt them but nobody but themselves is to blame if they mistake Asian looks with knowledge of Eastern medicine. I offered one to my current love when he came down with the flu before coming to stay to Berlin for the weekend. However, he has very delicate skin so I spared him and brought him some orange juice instead. It takes a special guy that makes me wanna coddle him instead of putting red streaks all across his back.
Drink your troubles away I tried to annihilate the memories of this awful, awful week on Friday evening. It worked a little too well and I had to face the consequences on Saturday when I stayed in bed catching up on my TV shows trying to ignore my hangover. Lately I haven't been going out much and enjoyed it very much. Despite what my mom or Myer-Briggs say about my gregarious nature, deep down I am a true introvert. With internet providing endless hours of entertainment and pizza delivery services, I won't leave the house any time soon this weekend.
On a brighter note, I finally got rid of my Christmas tree, or rather Remy did as a "thank you" for letting him crash at my place. I had my doubts about whether throwing the tree out of my window (5th floor) was a good idea but at 1 am our thinking was quite impaired. This was confirmed by my downstairs neighbor who didn't appreciate us celebrating the successful tree throwing with some Singstar. "Total Eclipse of Your Heart" is not for everyone on a Monday night... ahem, Tuesday morning.
New Year's Eve minus the party In accord with my dislike of society-mandated celebrations, I boycotted New Year's Eve by staying at home and watching Dexter while reading my chat history of my current knight in shining armor. My brother calls this pathetic but I call this the introvert's alternative to firecrackers and stale sparkling wine. Also, it gave me plenty of time to think about how to dispose of the carcass of last year's christmas tree: out of my window it goes.
