On school, shelter and sushi

Yesterday's night out with Sand and Co. was a lot of fun. We had some dinner, hung out at an outdoor party and had a pretty cool time. It was architecture related, and even though I was a little nervous before going, I ended up having a lot of fun with my friends and I wasn't all that freaked out about the architecture bit either. I was thinking about it when passing my school with Yanyan one of his last days - I wasn't nearly as stressed out as I'd been before. I guess things are starting to come together for me.

Hemingway's leaving for a bachelor party weekend trip to Budapest today, and I don't think he got so much sleep last night as we came home around midnight, and Sand later called me at 4.30 looking for a place to sleep after having scary memory gaps. About 15 minutes later the Puppy called with a similar problem, having had a serious nosebleed and being chilled and freaking out. They joked this morning that this place is a bit like an animal sanctuary for strays, and while I'm happy to give my friends some couch space when they're in need, I'd rather they not call me about it at 4 a.m. when Hemingway has to get up around 6. I mean, I'm not happy to be woken at any time really.

On watching Project Runway obsessively, S12E6

"The wicked witch with the bad hair is gone, at least that's something," Pony said as we sat down to watch a long overdue episode of Project Runway. It was another episode filled with nausea-inducing product placement, but skipping past their whole 'glamping' (glamorous camping) trip thing was easy enough, so we actually kinda enjoyed the experience for once. Not much was really horribly bad, and it seems like some time away from the workroom refreshed the designers enough to get them to produce something with a bit of heart to it again.

Fuck yeah, drop-crotch pants.

Now this photographs kinda awkwardly, but both Pony and I loved it on the runway. I think we're both warming up to Alexandria a bit more in general - an introverted hardworking Swede with a cool design sense. They gave her the 'redemption'-cut in editing, as her team was terrible last week, but I don't think it was a reflection of her ability as a designer. It was awesome to see Ken's bitchy face when she was on the top and he was on the bottom though. "I don't want be sucked into this big toilet of drama," she said, and she managed wonderfully. The jacket is awesome and Pony and I are both huge fans of drop-crotch pants, so this was a sure win in our book even before it was pronounced on the runway.

On migraines and pajama days

So there it is, the start of a migraine at 5.30 in the morning and I wonder when I'll ever learn to listen to my own signals. I know I feel terrible with too much social interaction, and yet I spend almost every moment of these past two weeks with Hemingway and Yanyan. It's a typical physical manifestation of an emotional condition, and I'm just pissed at myself for not catching it before my need for alone time worked its way into this.

"There's ice cream in the freezer and cookies in the cupboard," Hemingway made sure to tell me before he left for work this morning. I feel blessed to have a boyfriend who knows the way to a girl's heart like that.

On clothes, poverty and the last day of Yanyan's Stockholm adventures

Captioned on his instagram as 'Miss my girl!' Aww <3

Today was Yanyan's last day in Stockholm, which was kinda sad. I've really liked having him around, and it feels like we hit it off to a lasting friendship, even if it could be seen as being mostly based on Top Model jokes and fake British accents. All the same though, we've made plans to hang out in Hong Kong or Tokyo, whichever is the most convenient for us in the relatively near future. Looking forward to seeing him again sometime in the future and shopping until we ruin ourselves, or economies or our shoes from walking so much.

On Berlin adventures

I don't know if it was just our hostel that had terrible wifi (along with most of Berlin. No wifi everywhere, it felt like hanging out in a developing country), or if it was just my phone that's completely useless, but there obviously wasn't any updating at all from Berlin. I didn't even check my facebook for days. We had a lovely time though.

On babies, bucks and being supported

Baby Bighead and sister, masters of noise and stench.

I went to my parents' house yesterday for a quick 24 hour visit. My sister K was there with her two toddlers, which meant headaches and mental exhaustion from beginning to end pretty much. I can't stand kids, I really notice that now. I keep wanting to run and hide. Baby Bighead and I get along OK, but far less OK when he kept waking me up at night by screaming bloody murder, or pooping poops smelly enough to be classified as chemical warfare by the Geneva Protocol. Pony was telling me the other day about G's architect aunt, who apparently has a beautiful house with plants and designer furniture instead of kids, and it's just the most appealing thing in the world to me right now. Fuck smelly diapers, I want Eames chairs.

I want this.

On making friends and going places

"Why do you like him so much?" Hemingway asked this morning in reference to his friend (who from now on shall be known as Yanyan, because he's made himself worthy of a blog codename), cementing my suspicion that he's feeling legitly confused about it. In his world, Yanyan is extravagant and childish, someone who's wasteful with money and boy crazy, which all in all is pretty opposite of Hemingway (except for being childish, but I don't think he'd ever admit to that). I think he was expecting that I'd take care of Yanyan as a favor, putting up with his antics rather than laughing about them and encouraging it.

I guess it's because I see Yanyan as being vibrant and full of life. He's very open, and it's been really easy to connect to him, simply because I feel that it's a lot like what you see is what you get. He brings out the goofball in me, and sometimes that can make me come across as be a bit mean, but I feel comfortable in my own skin. Not that I don't feel comfortable being myself around Hemingway, because I do, but because I believe that everyone's kinda different depending on who they're with. "What about my other friends?" Hemingway demanded. "Do you like them too?" and sure, I don't dislike them, but you don't know someone the same way after meeting once or twice in a group setting as you do when you spend almost 24 hours a day together for a week.

...being fierce.

On watching Project Runway obsessively, S12E5

We've said it before and we're saying it again. "We should stop watching this shit. There's just nothing there anymore. It just makes us unhappy. There's just no redeeming it anymore," and yet there we are, every week, like an abused spouse hoping that somehow, in some magical way, Project Runway will have changed back to the way it was in the beginning, when it'd surprise us with good fashion and romantically wine-and-dine us. Now it just wants to shove product placements down our throat. Hey, look, Lexus! Hey, look, they're drinking this specific brand of water! Hey, look, GoBank!

I'm sorry Project Runway, but we're just not into it anymore. On watching the preview for next week's show, Pony sighed and just said "Suck my dick", and I couldn't agree more. We're on for this last season, but then it's probably no more. There's just no fashion in it anymore. I just... *sigh* Man, I keep on making excuses for this show, but there just aren't any anymore.

So heads up for the third unconventional materials challenge in five weeks, although this week it was in teams. They could be inspired by their Lexus, but they didn't have to, so technically it was all just thrown in there for screen time. Vomit. Did they all run out of any kind of proper idea? Anywho, the results were pretty hideous, and the drama was just way too much.

This so didn't deserve all that praise.

On job search frustration

I'm having one of those backlash days, probably because of way too little time on my own, but also just because it's already August 20th, I'm broke, still don't have a job and I'm quite frankly ashamed of it. I never thought it would be this much of an issue, and the way everyone's up in my business asking me about it. "So what are your plans for the fall?" "Is it hard to find a job in Stockholm these days?" Apparently so, genious, seeing as I haven't got one. Mom called the other day and dropped the classic "But honey, you need to find a job!" No, really mom, do I? And just what the fuck do you think I've been trying to do lately?

On friends and air

So far I'm really loving this whole friend-babysitting thing. I'm having so much fun playing around with Hemingway's friend every day, discussing clothes and life and managing to be both incredibly shallow and pretty deep at the same time. He's so much fun, and I really enjoy spending time with him. I don't think Hemingway thought we'd hit it off this well, but like this evening, spent on the couch drinking champagne and watching My Best Friend's Wedding which just happened to be on TV while making fun of Julia Roberts was amazing.

Seriously, that mouth could swallow you whole.

On compliments and internationalism

Today I went from feeling particularly asocial to suddenly talking to the whole world - taking a walk with an Ugandan friend, skype-ing with T in Japan and talking to a Korean guy in Japanese after my attempts at Korean and his attempts at English failed miserably, while hanging out in a park, digging my toes into the grass.

Look at me being all flower power-y and shit.

On crappy evenings and dead phones

I'm so pissed off right now, you guys have no idea. Hemingway and his friend wanted to go out, and since I'd forgotten my ID, I went home to pick it up and then get back to them. Anyways, my phone dies on the way, but before then I'd sent a text telling them I was coming, so I thought I'd go hang out by the front door, that eventually they'd notice that it wouldn't take that long, or find it strange that I wasn't answering calls or texts, and maybe come check the door to see if my phone had died or something.

Yeah, that would've been great, but that didn't fucking happen. I sat outside the front door like some sort of fabulously dressed hobo, waiting for probably an hour or so, until it got way too cold and I said 'fuck it' and went home, fuming.

On new friendships and a bad choice of shoes

I'm heading out in a bit to pick up Hemingway's friend from Hong Kong and entertaining him for the day. When Hemingway first pitched this idea to me, he did it rather geniously. "Hey, one of my best friends is coming to visit but I have to be at work, can you take care of him? He's gay, he used to be a model." Wait, how many times can I say yes to that without sounding like a total creep? I mean, who doesn't think that sounds like an absolute fantastic time?

I worry far more about what I wear when meeting my gay friends or going to gay bars than I do when meeting anyone else, even more so when it's someone explicitly interested in fashion. I now feel that I should've done laundry earlier this week with some urgency, because I'm going through that awful "Ugh, I have nothing to wear" moment. Also, I've lost weight and my black and grey jeans no longer fit without looking way too big, and the only other pants I have are bright blue and eye-straining pink. Maybe I should just go really 60's preppy, I don't know. I'll have to figure something out.

On dictatorships of the loving

Yesterday afternoon my cold took a turn for the worse, and I was stuck in bed with a fever that made my brain slow and slug-like, which sucked. Hemingway came over after work and started playing nurse/dictator to help me get better. But when I whimpered that I wanted hot chocolate, he told me "No, sugar's bad for your cold. No sugar for you," which is a fate worse than death. No sugar! What else am I supposed to live on? "But that's bullshit!" I protested. "Not even my parents have withheld sugar when I was sick. And ice-cream's cold, it must be good for fevers." "No sugar for you for the rest of the week! Now no more reading, go to sleep." and suddenly I knew what communist dictatorship must feel like.

So I pouted for a bit and decided that I'd sneak some sugar into my system while Hemingway was at work, guerrilla style, but when he came back from the store it turns out he'd bought ice-cream, chocolate and cookies, so I was placated. Also, he cooked a really nice dinner I ended up hardly eating because of the lack of appetite that always follows my colds and kept making me drink some tea-like thing with pieces of pear and honey in it for my throat. Before he left this morning he ordered me not to leave bed, which is something I can live with. I love bed. Hemingway can be a bit overbearing in the way he says things, but I really love how sweet he's being in taking care of me. Aw.

On colds and Margaret Cho

Hemingway's been starting to cook me breakfast when he gets up to go to work, which I find really sweet. I've been in the habit of not really liking to eat breakfast, but when it's there and it's been prepared so sweetly I can't not eat it. Pony and I have made jokes about him being a feeder, but it's really just nice to have someone worry about you getting your daily nutrients and stuff.

As nice as he is though, he's given me his cold from Indonesia and I have the worst sore throat. Hmpf. Also, today it's rained like hell and I got soaked through while walking home from the subway, and now I'm hiding out at home wrapped up in a big comforter trying to keep warm, hiding from the horrible weird bark-like substance that tastes like toothpaste that he keeps trying to feed me. What is that? And more importantly, whyyyyy?

On ships and Pacific Rim being totally awesome

I met up with the Puppy today, which consisted of hanging out at Cafe String, people-watching and ship-stalking. The Puppy loves the sea, and loves sailing, whereas I can kinda take it or leave it. Not a huge fan. Anywho, we were walking through Gamla Stan, and there are a million or so huge cruise ships docked there, and this one in particular was a big sailing cruise ship. The Puppy, being the Puppy and all, nearly wet himself from excitement and decided to go find crew members to ask a million questions. Being the nice person I am, I went with him and tried to get him to not jump up and down like a schoolgirl while he was talking to the captain with barely contained glee.

I don't give two shits about boats, but I can stand there and look supportive and give the captain looks of "Oh my god, I'm sorry, we're totally wasting your time, I'll remove him in a second", but the conversation was taken over by the big burly black hotel manager guy named Jeremy, who kept insisting that we both should sign on as crew next year and sail with them. Obviously, as expected, the Puppy went haywire and I was like "nope nope nope". I know people who have worked on cruise ships, and it's apparently one of the shittiest things you can do for money. It was a bit awkward, but still, now I have all this useless knowledge about sailing ships I didn't have before.

On watching Project Runway obsessively, S12E4

Man, these last few days have been intense. I'm really looking forward to heading over to Hemingway's place to chill and be crampy with some chocolate and bubble tea. I've been spectacularly slow all day, mostly just hanging out on Skype for hours on end, lazily checking more or less interesting tumblrs. I like having a whole day to feel a little bit sorry for myself, and the best way to go about it is covered in blankets, watching Project Runway.

Pony and I greeted this episode with a "Yay, no more Timothy!" and all was good. The challenge of being inspired by bow ties given out by Jesse Tyler (whom neither of us knew who the hell he was), and it all seemed like a straight-forward enough challenge. There wasn't much that could prepare us for the massive amounts of drama though. Geez, that was rough.

So congrats to Bradon, who adorably proposed to his boyfriend after receiving his win. I don't think this look should've won, personally (even though I think it's kinda cute), but it was pretty appropriate. I mean, it's sad that people in this day and age don't have the same equality in what's often claimed to be 'the land of freedom'. Only giving freedom to those who conform to the norm doesn't sound very free to me. Anywho, I wouldn't have spaced the ties so far apart in the top, even if the fagoting excuse was pretty witty, but all in all a good look.

On hiding out in your pajamas

I slept really late this morning, which felt much-needed. I was exhausted after the whole thing yesterday, and while I felt bad for Hemingway when he was kinda quiet, I really needed this day to hang out alone and recharge some battery. He made me a massive breakfast before disappearing away, and while I kinda miss him, I know that it was important that I take the time to watch out for me too. I don't want to get messed up again, I've only started getting my shit together this summer.

Rice congee and pickled vegetables, the breakfast for your recharging needs.

I've been feeling sorry for myself in a pretty relaxing way today, feeling like life's throwing me lots of fun stuff at once, like headaches, period cramps and sore throats. Hey, at least I'm not pregnant, that's always something.

On introversion freakouts

What part about Saturdays being a holy day dedicated to sleep don't people understand? As always, Hemingway tried to wake me at the crack of dawn, and I told him "No, I want to sleep late", so he tries to wake me up again like ten minutes later and I proceed to lose my shit. No, just fucking no.

Even after getting up freakishly early, it's not like he stays up either, but occasionally naps throughout the day, like on the couch snoring with his head in my lap, and I just don't understand his sleeping patterns, or why he apparently can't respect mine. If this were the first time it would be one thing, but when it happens again and again I get annoyed.

On good hanging out and bad hanging out

Longboarding with O didn't work out quite as I hoped it would. When I went to his place there was a light drizzle, and we decided to have some tea and chocolate to wait it out. The weather promptly decided to go "Pssh, as if" and start pouring rain by the buckets. We decided to give up on longboarding for the day and instead sat in the kitchen, talking about stuff in general and our plans for the rest of the year. O jokingly said he'd need to find new best friends, since "Two of my best friends are leaving the country this fall. What the hell am I supposed to do now?" and it's suddenly that wonderful moment of absolute happiness when one of those really cool and awesome people you consider one of your best friend lets you know he considers you one of his best friends too.

Best friends, yay!

On presents and strange mothers

Hemingway's back from his Hong Kong trip, with a suitcase packed full of awesome stuff. I just love the Asian cute obsession, they do it so much better. Rilakkuma, for example. I bought myself a Rilakkuma lunchbox in the Osaka Rilakkuma store when I was there, and was just blown away by the amount of cute that was in there. Rilakkuma towels. Rilakkuma carpets. Rilakkuma vacuum cleaners. It was cute heaven. Hemingway bought me an adorable Rilakkuma backpack and a Rilakkuma apron, so now I can go around being adorable too.

Also a Junsu album, because... because Junsu.

 

Yup, dyed my hair too. Was getting sick of the whole bleaching process. Now I just need to get it cut. Hemingway's staunchly opposed of it getting shorter, but fuck it, long hair is for wimps.

Hemingway being back is nice, but it means he's back with jet-lag and a messed up sleeping pattern which in turn affects me too. One example being of waking me up at 6 am to happily drag me out of bed for a bath. "You can sleep in the tub!" which, to be fair, I did until the water got uncomfortably cold, when I shuffled back to bed in a zombie-like state. It was nice, but I'm so not a morning person the way Hemingway is. It's just not my thing.

On the chaos that always comes with moving

Hi new readers and old silent ones!

The blog is being moved right now and things are a bit chaotic, but bear with me and I'll be up to my usual antics in no time.

Until then, I just have to say what the fuck to the mother of the small boy (two, three years old maybe?) on the bus yesterday who let the kid touch my leg without thinking to ask before. I can get that lace tights are as interesting to a small kid as to a lot of grown men, but ask first, or better yet, teach your son that he can't just go around putting his hands on whoever he wants. It's just so blatantly disrespectful. Ugh.

On watching Project Runway obsessively, S12E3

Going through my thesis project today to get it registered, I was struck by how much of an air of panic surrounded it. The written parts almost spell out "oh shit, oh shit, oh shit" and I feel a little stressed just reading them. I haven't been able to handle this is a normally-functioning human being in so long, and looking back now I understand how much of a terrible dark well of absolute despair I was by the time this project was finished, and how terrified I was of the prospect of showing it. I kinda want to go back and give myself a hug those last few days. I was probably just a tiny step away from a complete meltdown. I mean, I knew I was freaking out bad, but it's not until now when I've had the mental strength to check out my work that I really understand how bad. Now that everything's registered I feel much calmer, like I've pretty much closed the chapter on this extremely messy spring. Fuck yeah, this calls for some sick beats and a whole lot of high-fiving myself.



Anyways, I know I literally just did last week's episode of Project Runway the day yesterday, but I haven't been able to do this shit without Pony around. We always watch it together, watching it on my own to then comment on it just feels wrong, so we pulled a two episode marathon yesterday. Does two count as a marathon? When does binge-watching turn bad? Also, today's the day Hemingway's coming home, and I'll probably not have much time or opportunity to write anything more in-depth later tonight, so you'll all just have to make do. It'll be worth it though, promise.

On kitty farewells and shrieks

Lazy kitty bed cuddles.

Today was Tara the cat's last day at my place before going back to her own apartment with her owner. It's been both a little rough to have her around as she's a wee bit demanding sometimes, but mostly she's been really sweet. Last night as I was getting ready for bed and was feeling a little lonely, she lay down on my chest and purred me in the face. It's comforting, it really is. As much as I favour dogs, I have a feeling I'm going to miss the little fucker when she's gone. Cleaning up her stuff and getting ready to move - it just feels kinda sad.

On watching Project Runway obsessively, S12E2

Saturday morning, and everyone in the apartment is up on their own at like 7.30 am. What's up with that? Felt surprisingly good though, like I'm full of all this energy I don't know where it came from. A full night's sleep maybe. I should get to bed before midnight more often.

Anywho, I'm doing a review of last week's Project Runway this week, because it's just impossible for it not to be depressing if Pony's not around. Yesterday morning she came back though, and I'm psyched about it. We celebrated today with Project Runway and dancing around in the living room to k-pop. Why change a winning concept? Anywho, moving on.

Bed sheets are fabulous.

On k-pop drinking games part 2 – The aftermath

Yesterday's experimental drinking game worked out pretty well, all things considering. We played for around 45 minutes, got pleasantly buzzed and giggly, and were then distracted by the cat being fluffy and us being hungry, so we ended it there and watched some Community instead. I woke up a bit groggy but not really hungover, and with the knowledge that vodka strawberry milkshakes are like the best thing ever. It was a good test run, even when we occasionally got too distracted by the clothes and cool dancing to remember to drink, but I guess that's what I get for playing with someone equally fascinated by fashion. Also laughing at all the amazingly corny stuff that goes on in these videos takes up a lot of time while playing. It's awesome. Here's looking to round two.

On k-pop drinking games part 1 - The prelude

The Puppy and I devised a K-pop drinking game the other day. You guys want to play? You play by watching k-pop videos and getting wasted. As good a use of any Thursday, if you ask me. Grab any k-pop friendly girls and/or gay guys you know, because drinking alone sounds depressing.

Rules:

Jaejoong approves.

• Every time there's blatant fan service and/or partial nudity, drink.

• Every time there's a cool dance move that makes you go "whoa", drink.

• Every time someone touches their crotch in the video, drink.

• Every time there are fake tattoos and/or fake scars, drink.

• Every time someone does a dramatic hand gesture in front of their face, drink. Bonus points if they clench their fist.

• Every time there's bad or needless English, drink.

• Bonus rule for if you want to get completely hammered: every time your favorite band member is featured, drink.

As far as I can tell this may be the most efficient way of getting drunk since the Pokemon Drinking Board Game that I played with some friends in Uppsala last year. Spoiler alert, we weren't just drunk but stupid drunk in like an hour. I'm guessing this game might produce a similar result, but hey, gotta try it out right?

Early U-KISS stuff is a fucking goldmine for this. Anywho, the plan is to stock up on White Russians and alcoholic strawberry milkshakes and just have a pretty sweet afternoon super-chilled party. Grab your poison, give the game a go, and I'll check in with you guys with or without a hangover tomorrow for a review. Hwanho!

On naive people and thunderstorms

Oh god, I've found the Holy Grail of depressing television - Catfish: The TV show. Desperate people falling for people they've never even skyped with, let alone met, and then having their expectations totally obliterated by this film crew who investigate the online crush and and then arrange a meeting. So. Much. Awkward. The people being fooled are so amazingly naive, they'll make excuses for anything. "Well never mind he sounds like he's 14 over the phone, I know he's the gorgeous model doctor he says he is online!"

 I mean, I've been told I'm a bit of a cynic, but I'd approach anything like this with a (maybe less than) healthy dose of skepticism. I feel a little bad for these people who just want their relationship to be true so much that they're completely oblivious to everything that sounds weird or odd. How desperate for love are they?