Filed under: announcement
The first time I remember feeling disappointment was when I was around fifteen. I don’t remember over what exactly, maybe because it wasn’t a significant heartbreak besides the fact that that was the first incident I was unhappy over anything, but weighing the possibility that it could have been about my grades, friends or family, I hardly doubt it was any of those. I have a strong feeling it was about one of the 874358479 boys I had a thing for. No surprises there, I know.
But what made my first heartbreak special to me was the initiation of a very bad habit in me that has stayed on and grew to be even more intense today. After my first heartbreak, I went on to have a third hole pierced in my left ear.
Every subsequent heartbreak after that one, major or otherwise, be it about a break-up, over a death or diagnosed disease in the family, a misplaced earring, a bad grade, a lost friend, anything really, would probably mean a five dollar trip to 77th street and going home with one additional stud in my left ear. It went on for about 3 years, and because I was a very sensitive soul, both my ears looked like bulletin boards by the time I left college. I soon decided that it was a fashion disaster since I was more often than not, too lazy to match the colours of over 10 studs to any singular outfit I wore. I removed my earstuds and I let all the holes close save for two on my left and one singular hole my right.
In polytechnic, I decided I was going to stop terrorizing my ears, and since I am not allowed to pierce any other parts of my body, I went on to terrorizing my hair instead.
Every little time I felt sad, angry or depressed, I went to the salon.
3 years spent in poly saw me change my hairstyle twenty times maybe. It wasn’t that my life was sad or depressing, cause by nature I get over things very very quickly. It was just that I am/was extremely volatile, and emotions are/were easily swayed.
In year 3, I spent $300 on dreadlocks. I forgot what triggered this hairstyle. It was probably my tutee underperforming for his end of year exams or something like that.
I guess for most of us, we yearn for changes after we’ve gone through a bad patch. It’s normal. I guess, in a spiritual sort of way, a change signifies a new beginning; and just the thought of that hovering in our subconcious state triggers for a quickened rate of physical and emotional recuperation. For some others, a change helps heal a regretful soul; Lest of a new a beginning, but more of altering the current circumstances to make for a more bearable present.
About half a year ago, my obsession with multi-coloured hair mellowed down. When that happened, it slipped my mind that in place of mane restyling activities, I might have to think of a new way to incur physical change upon myself the next time I needed ‘change’.
So few months ago, when the assignments started to pile in and I felt a little pressured, I decided, heck, I’ll just go back to piercing my face again. Not my ears though, they’ve been porkmarked enough, those poor things.
The eyebrow stud did the trick, but I soon found out I had to find yet another alternative to piercings and hairstyle changes cause apparently, my communist father thinks that a piercing on the face makes me look tacky and ugly.
Fine then, I then went on to getting a mark under my ear. It’s pretty discreet, especially since I always wear my hair down. (The picture has been taken off because I have old friends sneaking their noses up and down my neck as they scan for it and in all honesty, a friend’s breath hard on my nape creeps me out especially when he does it immediately when he sees me after a few weeks of absence.)
So a month ago, when I hit a little rough patch, I thought, what the heck, let this change be a big one. A painful, permanent, expensive, big one.
I went for lasik surgery 2 days back and starting from tomorrow onwards, I’ll be constantly decked in my YSL shades during the day and in my pirate eye covers (picture above) on both eyes at night. I’m so hip and pirate y’all! I also have to refrain from watching TV, using the computer (I am blogging illegally), playing with my PSP, reading, doing soduko, exercising, going out to crowded or bright places… For the next one week or so.
Next week will mark the 3rd week of my home confinement in the name of pre and post surgical prepping. How mundane.
Who knows, a few more failed relationships and a cat death or two later, I’ll probably (finally) have enough guts to go for that Botox I’ve always wanted.
For now let’s just say thank you and bye bye to two very much loved friends that I’ve grown to appreciate last few years.
To the rugged half-rimmed black Oakleys that saw me through O levels, thank you, I loved you, and I will forever be indebted to you for your outstanding durability despite my careless handling.
To the red Gucci that has been a bitch to match, I love you mucho. The day I had you marked the first of many splurges on red items just as so I could give you red friends. On most days I looked like Santarina but it’s ok, I may be mother Christmas, but I am mother Christmas in Gucci, dammit.
