An Open Letter To The Things I'm Leaving Behind

(Three more days 'til I'm gone.)

To Hong Kong: fuck your people. No, that’s mean – fuck the amount of people. Fuck how busy it gets. I mean, Christ, it shouldn’t take me, during rush hour, one damn hour to get somewhere that usually takes 10 minutes! I hate your stupid pollution and how it fogs my lungs and stops me from running and then I feel lazy and bad about myself. Don’t make me feel bad about myself because I’m good at that already

I hate how hot it gets. Everyone knows I hate how hot it gets because I complain about it at least once a day, and I hate that I do. I hate that I complain about how hot it gets but I just can’t stop doing it. It’s like some god-awful addiction and I hate it. I hate humidity and sweating and how greasy my hair gets. Fuck the equator and fuck tropical weather.

I hate a lot of stuff here. I hate how you can’t buy coloured hair dye, and I hate how there aren’t any hypermarkets because, um, Walmart is really fun. I hate how it doesn’t snow. And yeah, those dumb traffic lights that are always, always red whenever I’m in a hurry to get home? Yeah, you. Fuck you. I hate you the most.

I hate how I always complain about this place. I hate how I kind of have some hometown pride. I’ve hated growing up here and I hate that I kind of didn’t sometimes. I sometimes feel robbed of a proper sandbox-and-street-baseball childhood, and sometimes I’m glad I had my own warped one with my weird-ass games and early introduction to video games a la pokémon.

Even though I will miss aspects: the transport, (LOLJK, no matter where I’ve lived it’s been annoying with transport. INCONVIENIENCE WHAT’S UP,) some local food, (I still haven’t tried everything because I’m unadventurous and unashamed to say that. Um, hello, I will so be careful with what I put in my mouth, okay?) and the busy night life, (which is kind of nice when I’m not feeling reclusive which is rarely ever,) I’ve always been adamant that the things I love most about this place are the people here and the experiences I’ve had. You could’ve taken the girl out of the city and she would’ve been fine if she’d still done the same stuff and seen the same things. Which she wouldn’t have. So I guess I’m just being an ungrateful brat. I’m glad for my experiences here and opportunities.

Hong Kong wasn’t so bad I guess. I’m glad I’m leaving. I’m glad I get to experience a brand new place and get to be in a completely different atmosphere. I’m still somewhat resentful of some of the things I’ve been exposed to here or the lack of exposure I’ve gained from living here, but that’s okay. Hong Kong gave me good experiences and cool stories to tell. I’ve had enough, but it hasn’t completely sucked, which is, I guess, as good as it will ever get.

To my friends: I am, by nature, incredibly reclusive. Those of you close enough to me will know this, and know this well – I fall into fits of the sullens and will not want to leave my room and see people and if I do happen to see people regardless, I will be in my own world and unresponsive. In short – I am an obstinate brat, and now that I read this, a pretty shitty friend. Despite the fact that I find most people stupid and annoying, I actually have managed to find some that do not fit the stereotype that I have imposed and believed in my whole life, (i.e. that people are stupid and annoying.)

“Friends” is used quite loosely I guess. I have, at this point, 594 facebook “friends,” and by definition, a lot of them are not my “friends” at all. Therefore, I will revise this section, “To my friends,” to “To my favourite people.” Who is in this group of my favourite people is very subjective – to both me and you. Maybe I don’t know you that well but, as creepy as it sounds, I may find your presence enjoyable and you may be one of my favourites. Or maybe you know very well that you are. Or maybe you think you are but I actually hate you.

So, to my favourite people, (my actual favourite people according to me, not the ones who think they are but aren’t. Isn’t this an ambiguous ‘Open letter!’,) thank you for, uh, sticking around I guess. Putting up with the awkwardness that I usually manage to cast on a group, the idiotic comments I can make, and just my presence in general. It’s been real cool chilling with you, (probably,) and I’m sure we’ve had some great times, (again, depending on who you are.) Thanks for making me laugh, (you probably have, even if you’re someone I hate because sometimes I find everything funny,) and thanks for nice conversations. Maybe we have cute photos together. You might be on my wall. It’s not creepy, it’s nice, I swear.

In all reality though – here goes me trying ~sentimentality~ ooh – this is me trying to say that I might miss some of you. And this is a serious confession right here guys, because a lot of the time I find being around people so tiring because my natural state is just hermit. Lately, I’ve found myself actually wanting to go do things more and, god forbid, socialize, because it’s gone from occasionally being a chore, (I sound like such a nice, fun, person right now,) to just not. Look guys! You made the people-hater like people!

Maybe I don’t see you too often, and when I do, it’s such a nice moment and we always say – We need to meet up more! – but we just don’t. We should, but we don’t, and that can be okay, because it’s never awkward and it’s always just nice. Maybe I see you whenever I can, even though it’s not often, and that’s just nice too, because it makes those moments special and we, (I hope it’s reciprocal,) look forward to them. Maybe I see you all the fucking time and it’s just going to be weird when I don’t – you know who you are – and well, I’m going to miss that, but it’ll be kind of nice that our reunions will be like none other.

I know I may come across as either clingy or aloof, (god, the contradiction there,) and I’m stubborn and awkward as hell, but I will admit that I pretty much kick ass at keeping in contact, so I guess it’s I will if you will.

To The Little Things: I never, ever think about you. You are waiting in the freezing cold in the winter for your school bus and just knowing that you are going to die of hypothermia. You are accidentally stepping on your dog’s squeaky toys at 2 in the morning whilst getting a drink. You are running up bloody Barker road – yes, that bit, - and just hating your life and everything. You are slipping on your sister’s rug and struggling to regain balance for dear life, the shadows the leaves of your plant cast on the ceiling, your wonky top shelf, the thoughts that keep you up at night. You are the Things We Never Know We Have Until They’re Gone. You are the basis for random nostalgias as I will no doubt see little reminders of you and think to myself, “Hey, that reminds me of home!” You have annoyed or pleased me and either way, have affected me, and you warrant a mention in my open goodbye letter: thanks for existing, I guess.

Action!

Been going a little nuts with photoshop experimenting lately. Finally got round to getting myself a modelmayhem account and have been setting up castings and whatnot for England. Figured it's about time I do something about a portfolio just for fun.

The uni countdown is officially in the single digits; 8 days to be exact! Very excited. This is really just a short post because I've made and uploaded some actions for you, whoever you is. To load an action, save it (duh,) open up the actions palette, click to the arrow and select load action. Then click play to play it through.

Following actions are included:

Click here to download. Enjoy!

When In Macau

My first Macau post. And here's a video I guess.

When in Macau, you arrive at your fancy hotel and get ready to head straight back out. You don't have to pay for your suite and the sleeping arrangements aren't sorted, so you just chuck your things everywhere and change. Write the boys's suite number on a notepad next to the phone and your own on your wrist because you damn well will forget. The girls, in Macau, will stagger around in their highest and most uncomfortable heels as they stuff flats and flip-flops into whatever bags people are bringing that night. The boys, in Macau, will be suited up and ready to go and will knock on the door and wait for not-too-long, because everyone is hungry as hell.

When in Macau, you will eat at the food court because you can. You may all be refined adults, but one of you will buy a sippy cup and the rest of you will marvel at the way the holographic images change as you move it. You shall eat your pizzas and paninis and noodles and then set off to explore the Venetian because it is a freaking massive hotel, complete with indoor canals and gondolas and shops, in an attempt to mimic - fittingly enough, - Venice.

When in Macau, you head to the first club at around 10.30 and it's really empty. Buy tickets to enter. Stumble across the realisation - by Esme - that Club Lotus is where The Rocky Horror Picture Show would take place if it was updated to 2011. In Macau, you all get slightly freaked out. In Macau, Barry The Sippy Cup turns into Barry The Alcohol Sippy Cup.

When in Macau, you have to go to the casinos - because that's what Macau is known for. When in the Venetian, you have to go to the casinos because that's the only damn way you can get anywhere. One of you decides to put in $20 at slots once and comes out with $908 and you all scream and jump around. You decide to try your luck yourself, putting aside the knowledge that fate hates you in a blind optimism that you may too, win something, but of course you don't.

When in Macau, you try all sorts of new drinks. You discover one that you really like - maybe it's a Bellini Martini from Bellini Lounge, or maybe it's a freaking expresso cream and chocolate syrup Bailey's drink. It's not that crowded but you dance anyway as you wait for other members of your party to show up.

When in Macau, you may decide to lie on the bed with your best friend and take arm's length self photos whilst the others drink tequila. You may all go to the Hard Rock Hotel but not go in because you all cannot bear to pay $400 for club entry. In Macau, you may all go to the Playboy Club and find it boring because it's closing anyway. You may run into a small spot of bother which is redeemed and forgotten straight after.

When in Macau, if a limousine pulls up as you're waiting for cabs, you should go and ask the driver if he can drive you all to your hotel. Get a discount on the price and there you have it: a spur-of-the-moment limo rental. In your limo, in Macau, turn the music up and take photos and all feel incredibly pleased with yourselves. In your limo, in Macau, know that you shall probably never be satisfied with (1) any transport, and (2) another club ever again, after your dubbed 'Club-on-wheels,' managed to succeed in making you all completely giddy and for damn good reason.

When in Macau, you may plan to go back to the first club - which opens until 6AM - after you leave your beloved limo. In Macau, however, you may find yourselves victims to your appetites and instead embark on a quest to find food. Food is found in the form of a chinese restauraunt in the middle of a casino. Because you are all hungry and tired, you take it and eat, creating one of, perhaps, the most surreal moments you have ever lived through thus far. If you are a girl, you have complained about your feet hurting several times, and may have changed into alternate shoes.

When in Macau, your plan to go back to the first club after your meal may fall through as you realise you'd all rather go to bed. Despite tiredness however, you do not sleep for at least another hour because you must shower and one of you starts singing obscure songs and you all fall into deliriousness and giggle your heads off whilst watching Cartoon Network. When in Macau, you all sleep for five hours before you must be up again.

When in Macau, a starbucks morning coffee run is necessary because you have all had about four hours sleep. You shuffle around the hotel looking for the right exit and board the bus as you talk about the fact that last night seemed like a surreal dream. You look through all the photos you took last night and laugh your heads off at some of the funnier ones. In Macau, it's pretty fun.

How To Be Quirky (Photo Post)

Step 1: Find a friend. Find a cute friend who has similar taste in music and everything else and you end up accidentally dressing pretty much the same - it's cute, okay! It looks good in photos. And the music is important because you will have to sing songs when you stroll down the woodland-esque path back home, and it would be better if you both knew the same ones. Same taste in food would be good as well, but I've yet to find someone who does not really have the same taste as me because everybody pretty much just fucking loves food. For this step, I selected Izzy.

Step 2) Acquire a cute idea. It has to be childish because it's ironic and cute - you are not children, yet playing with child things and it means you are free spirits and children at heart and just downright adorable. Kittens and bubbles and balloons all work. We looked for bubbles but they didn't have any normal ones so we settled for balloons.

Step 3) Find pretty locations. As long as they're aesthetically pleasing, it really does not matter that it is 33 degrees and that your legs are covered in mosquito bites! They don't show up on camera. (Okay, yes they do.) Chill there and feel like you're in a movie until you have to accept that it really just is too hot and that aircon is the greatest creation ever. If you have quirky accessories that's also a bonus! Heart-shaped glasses bring back an element of childishness and therefore are definitely an A+, and I'm just emotionally attached to my circle shades.

Step 4) You must create a playlist that includes lots of music like Eisley and The Hush Sound and Foster The People. Occasionally jam out, and you may even take a lyric or song names to use as captions for the photos you upload to your flickr. You can even get out guitars and ukuleles and play a bit because you, as creative individuals, are talented as hell.

Step 5) Amble around and climb bamboo construction sites because "you've just always wanted to," and then fear because "It's actually quite a long way down." Sadly mourn when the construction area is dismantled the same day, (coincidence?) and then just forget about it.

Step 6) Upload your photos and deflate the balloons because you keep tripping over them and to be honest, you hate balloons popping. Write a short summary of your very cool day disguised as a satirical guide on "How To Be Quirky," and hope people don't take you seriously.

Sometime Around Midnight

Tonight is Mid-Autumn festival, which, for the expat/international school kids, is thinly used as a disguise for getting-trashed-on-the-beach-because-711-doesn't-card-tonight. Glowsticks and lanterns galore, overcrowded beaches, and seeing kids three, four years below me at school getting wasted. Sounds like my ideal night! (Really though, no sarcasm for glowsticks, I love them.)

So I'm spending mine with my computer and sketchbook and maybe a movie.

Socialising has hit an all time low after I'd hit my peak earlier this summer. Most people are going/gone and although I should really go to that dinner, I'm not. (I might actually. I'm already late and undressed and sitting at home blogging but I just may as well if I can be bothered in a minute.)

Anyway, this is just my quick mid-week (it's not mid-week but I just said that,) and some of my latest doodles and shit. I guess I'll put a proper article-thing up soon, writing a few simultaneously, (as usual,) and can't seem to finish just one of them, (as usual.)

Goodbye Nights

FINALLY getting around to rewriting this. Writing something that you've pretty much already written is the dumbest thing ever, which is why I've put this off for so long. And now of course, I've forgotten all the original content and what I've even done since Lizzy's left. Not much; stayed at home and read A Song Of Ice & Fire and watched Jersey Shore, (oh! The contrast!) and did some art bits and pieces. I can be the biggest hermit sometimes most of the time.

Now forgive me in advance for perhaps the most boring piece of information ever that I am going to divulge: I wanted a hat for a while and I got one and new sunglasses that really don't match anything but I love all the same.

Everyone hates me with a middle parting except me, but I hate it in pictures because it looks really dumb. Mirror or photos: one of you is lying.

My computer had been broken last week so I picked up a hobby I used to partake in a lot: drawing creepy, random doodles of dead things and the like. I actually finished a few pieces, but staying true to myself, the ratio to unfinished to finished is still at around 4:1.

Went out a few times, and whilst they were fun, nothing special. (Except the most recent Tuesday, but I refuse to blog about it because I really don't remember anything and I don't really want to. Self defense mechanism amnesia, oh god.) Pretty sure I'd hit my peak with partying earlier in the summer and I've reverted back to being my own boring homebody self, which I like. PARTY WITH THE PS3, WHAT'S UP.

This night was worth it though because Aidan wore a kilt.

Vanity closeups because I did my hair different for once in my life, and ugh what's up with my parting. I also wore something I hadn't worn before. I hate shopping so I don't go a lot, and when I do, I refer to it as purposeful shopping; I know what I want and I just go and get it. As if I'll be fucked to actually try it on and stuff. If it doesn't fit, tough luck, I suck.

As for now, just waiting for everyone to leave, before I resume complaining about how long I'm still here for. (Just kidding! I never stopped complaining!) Actually got permission to do a Cute Goodbye Gathering so that'll be the weekend before I leave. God, this summer has dragged on for so long, these 'What-I-Did-Today/This Week/This Month' posts are getting so repetitive and boring. I need to write more Angsty Teen Thoughtz™ articles.