SH Day 10

I need a freaking project.

It can be:

a) Getting a dog - not possible. Dorms don't allow pets, except for like fishes. That's not gonna help.

b) Run a marathon - but with a packed schedule I can't do that. It's not fun having a section of the campus newspaper due in five hours AND feeling tired from the gym.

c) Those stupid modeling competitions you have so often in Malaysia - well, obviously. Not gonna be in Malaysia. Or else I might actually think of joining those stupid modeling competitions as my "project". How hard is it to look pretty? On second thought maybe that look of disgust you are giving me now is right. I've taken professional photos, they suck, and I don't ever wanna do it again. Let's scratch this.

c) Fuck I don't know man. Plant a tree?! No. Too boring. Scratch.


c) Baby.

c) Travel! Yes, but only during Spring Break. Maybe during the weekends. Sorry Debate team but I really don't need to be going to five tournaments next semester. A two-day trip to New York City for shopping and culture will be nice.

These are just tiny "projects" - for lack of a better word - that I want to undertake because I need to clear my mind. Not a full-scale let's-save-the-children-in-Africa thing, which would be for later.

d) Okay I'm out of ideas. It is also 6.42am in the morning, and I'm doing this to get my mind off things. If you have suggestions, no matter how exotic, maybe like train snakes to snake dance ... or something.

To be frank, self-healing is not going well at all. I may be home, and I'm a lot better than I would be if I was in Rochester, but this still happens. It's all fine and dandy when I get to walk down the street in a dress, smiling at the sun (and have it smile back), doing twirls and shit on the sidewalk, looking pretty - God I love wearing dresses, why is it that the one thing I really needed from America is the one thing it can't give me. If I had said I wanted Asian food I could still have gotten it - but once I'm home and all alone, dressed back down to my old t-shirt and shorts in bed, it creeps up on me. Was my heart just not really in this enough to make it work? Maybe 10 days is too early to judge.

At any rate, I am enjoying the moment for what it is now. Just because I won't have sun for the next three months doesn't mean I'm going to stay at home and mope, instead of going out and soaking it all in. Heck, when I saw that it was still bright out at 4, I opened the curtains and did a Hallelujah.

Oh Malaysia, how I'm gonna miss your never-ending summer. I've grown up here, and you've turned me into a never-ending summer too. Now I'm gonna have to brace the winter, but until then...

Here comes the sun,
Here comes the sun,
And I say,
It's alright.

SH Day 8

You want the truth? Here's the truth.

I think about you ... a lot. I really do. I think about us, not really in any location, or doing anything; we're sort of in this vacuum. I think about what you're doing right now - halfway across the world. I think about your favorite songs, your favorite things... you're such a dork.

I can't help it. I'm miles away - make that thousands of miles - but I'm always reminded of you. Maybe because your name is such a fucking common word it's everywhere. Maybe because every song reminds me of you, like those cheap movie tricks. The only way this can get worse is if your first name was ... Koala. Because I've been seeing that around an awful lot too.

It's really bad, I know. You're not alone in this buddy, I'm scared of myself too. I don't know what's worse. The fact that you don't feel the same way, or the fact that I'm obsessing about how you don't feel the same way, or the fact that deep down inside, I probably don't feel the same way too.

Man, this is so fucked up.

SH Day 5

So many things has happened since Day 3 of self-healing.

Just picture me sitting on those airport chairs in, my cheek resting my fist, and I'm frowning. I am in Rochester.

Now picture me in the Chicago airport. Then in the Hong Kong airport. Then in Changi.

That was me, for 30 hours. I don't think me being annoyed at every little thing - like this girl talking to her friend about not being compatible with her ex-boyfriend hence they broke up, I'm sorry but, I've thought a lot of bad things to do to you - would have been conducive to my self-healing process.

I've landed in the motherland, I've gotten very confused at some of the things that work here, I've gotten pissed at my how the weather works on my hair, I've passed out from jetlag, I've seen family, I've been disappointed by some things here, I've wanted America back again, I've ate enough food in one day to last me for thirty, I've discovered - and am quite sure of it now - that I truly want things I can't get ... just a whole bunch of little things that were enough to overwhelm.

Will check back some time soon. I think I'm going shopping today. Will be glad to see the unhomogenous variety of things to buy, but will probably be disappointed in some ways. I also have no shoes to wear here, because I am smart. It's so debilitating to not have proper shoewear. Bah.

Dear Karen,

If you're reading this, it means I actually worked up the courage to mail it, so good for me. You don't know me very well but if you get me started, I have a tendency to go on and on about how hard the writing is for me. This, this is the hardest thing I've ever had to write. There's no easy way to say this so I'll just say it. I met someone. It was an accident, I wasn't looking for it, I wasn't on the make. It was a perfect storm. She said one thing, I said another. Next thing I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life in the middle of that conversation. Now there's this feeling in my gut: she might be The One. She's completely nuts in a way that makes me smile, highly neurotic, a great deal of maintenance required. She is you, Karen. That's the good news. The bad is that I don't know how to be with you right now. And it scares the shit out of me. Because if I'm not with you right now, I have this feeling we'll get lost out there. It's a big, bad world full of twists and turns and people have a way of blinking and missing the moment, the moment that could have changed everything. I don't know what's going on with us, and I can't tell you why you should waste a leap of faith on the likes of me. But damn you smell good. Like home. And you make excellent coffee -- that's got to count for something, right? Call me.


Unfaithfully yours, 
Hank Moody


***

No joke, I literally choked up reading this letter. Either I'm getting sappier, or I really, really like Hank Moody and I can relate to him. Girls, isn't this the bad boy you want to turn good and fall for you? Well, Karen did it. And she did it WHILE looking like a Greek goddess. Hey, I'd fuck her too.

<3 Hank Moody!

SH Day 3 - Honesty is definitely the best policy.

Sometimes your physical reactions (or lack thereof) can tell you a lot more about yourself than you'd like. They might not tell you accurate things about yourself, but they can certainly make you feel shitty.

Think about how in a normal moment of your day you'd feel hungry for Chinese food (yeah me), nervous because you haven't handed in a play due two weeks ago (also me), or you'd feel like taking a dump (still me) ... but if in that moment you're told something earth-shattering like, your husband cheated on you, you'd feel none of the above. You'd stop feeling hungry, or nervous about something that doesn't really seem to matter to you now, and bodily functions cease in that moment.

You know what'd be a total mindfuck though? If you don't expect to have your bodily functions ceased. If you think you're fine with your husband cheating, because maybe you do it too and you're fucked up like that ... but in that moment you realize maybe you're not.

This should not be linked back to me in any way. I am not married, to anyone or anything, and if I did I would probably not be okay with cheating. Hence why I will not get married. Because I don't believe love is ever incentive enough to stop a man from cheating, a stupid misconception of marriage and true love and the "ONE PERSON 4EVA" thing. Maybe it's the kids, maybe it's the fact that she didn't sign a pre-nup, maybe it's fear of being frowned upon by society or going against the norm ... but it's never love. Okay I'm gonna stop spewing my life theory all over you now.

Likewise when you feel utter happiness, like lying in the arms of your loved one in a bed of roses or some shit, you'd probably not feel hungry for Chinese, or nervous about your paper, or that you need to shit. Which helps a lot if you also want to have sex in the bed of roses.

On to my life. I was honest today. Yay. I also had great sex last night, which was kinda what I was worried would derail my self-healing journey. But it was fine. Probably because I was honest, and got a huge chunk of information off my chest. Hey, so, I kinda would mind if you slept with another girl, and I kinda might not want to sleep with you after ... see, that was easy. Got it out right away on the first try.

Heck, no. It took me weeks. I am such a fucktard.

Anyways, if you think the theme of today's post is "physical reactions make you feel shitty" you are wrong. It is actually "questions". Isn't this self-healing thing fun.

I've been thinking (I can hear you crying, "Noooooo") and sure, I have a lot of questions for him. Like, why her and not me? Did the situation change, or was it the people? But I never did ask - and I never will, because a) I don't have the guts to b) I'm afraid of the answer c) I'd have more questions = bad c) these questions really don't mean anything. They probably won't make me feel better or worse, they won't change things and it's not something I need to know, ever. They're just questions for the sake of questions. They won't contribute anything to my understanding of me and him, much less to my self-healing process. And once I understood that, the questions ceased.

I don't feel like there's anything from this situation that needs to be understood more. I feel like I'm at the end of the line already. I used to say I want a car crash, I want a car heading for a crash ... and I think this is it. I'm at the crash. I'm looking at it. And it doesn't seem too bad. Maybe one day some part of the engine will explode or something, and I know normal people would run away now - because they'd tell me to, but I'm staying put. I'm not abandoning the scene until something bad does happen. That's just how I roll.

I just feel like this is us - if there is to be an us. I'm lying in his arms, he's pressing his lips to my ears, singing his strange rock songs that I'll never understand. It was a beautiful moment, and that moment is all there is to us.

don't say a word just come over, and lie here with me.

SH Day 2 - All kinds of secret

Two observations about American malls:

1. When you step into a mall, you can literally feel like you're in any other mall in any part of the country. (Or at least on the East Coast, which is all I've ever traveled to.) It's just all the same to me. They look the same, feel the same and - best part over here - they sell the same things. It's like if you took Ikea and multiplied it across every town, every state. Everyone would have those same little stools they sell, and things in the same shade of pink or blue. It's not like in Malaysia where we have like tonnes of smaller shops selling cheap their own kind of stationery or hats or whatever. In America, you kinda just know where people get their stuff. Macy's, JC Penney, Sears, Walmart, Target, Best Buy, CVS ... and it's the same in every town, every state.Their corporate giants are so good that they've completely obliterated the need for any small businesses. It's really like Ikea with its mass production of things, except imagine an Ikea that sells food, home and office stuff, electronics, health and beauty and is located in every single town you can name, and you get Walmart.

It's like American retailers are meant to create clones. You'd know right away where someone got their clothes or Christmas decorations from.

Yes so I just came back from the mall. I don't know if I've mentioned here about how I lost my desire to shop, but apparently I didn't lose it with Victoria's Secret. I almost bought 7 things from their Secret Garden collection because of the $35 promotion, until I made myself remember I hated their Secret Garden collection. They have other nice fragranced lotions though. But I'm not gonna continuously pay $20 for a bottle just to smell fuckable. Or maybe I will.

Man. I feel much better now. I am healing, day by day, slowly. I hope what I'm about to do later isn't going to completely derail my process. That would really suck. And no amount of Victoria's Secret fragranced lotion is going to help that.

"Winners are simply willing to do what losers won't." - Sign in Million Dollar Baby

PS - Right. Observation 2: People REALLY like taking their own fucking sweet time in lines here. I'm sorry but I have never seen a line get held up by so many mothers consecutively, shopping for Christmas presents. There'd be a line of ten people behind them and they'd still have the nerve to ask if they can get more discount if they do this do that bla bla bla ... God. It's a pet peeve of mine to see people taking all the time in the world in a line. Like when I'm waiting in line for ice-cream and these girls just start talking to each other about their hair or something stupid like that, instead of doing what they're supposed to, which is SCOOPING THE DAMN ICE-CREAM. I was so mad I had to go sit back down for fear that I will pummel them to death if I don't.

So yeah, lesson of the day is don't stand in line with me. I can be one impatient motherfucker sometimes.

Day 1 of Self-healing

Classes are over, exams are over. I officially have no external obligations.

And so today will be the day I start with the process of self-healing. To "find myself again" if you will. I didn't want to use that phrase at first because a) it's corny b) I'm still in denial of what's going on.

Let's use the word "remember". I just want to remember who I am again. I looked back at my old blog posts, written just as I came to America and ... I was funny. I used to be funny. And sarcastic. And self-loathing, but at least it was in a funny way that people would enjoy reading about. I enjoyed it.

Now all my blog posts just seem to feature me sitting in an empty room staring at the wall. This process of self-healing is to enable me to get out of that room and start going out into the world, kicking little children again or something, you know.

I don't know if I need to find myself, but I just know I've been feeling pretty lost for a while now.

And so the road starts here. Today. Now. I'm going to give my room a good cleaning, rearrange my closet, and then sit down and do some reading.

It appears I also need to take a shit. Maybe this is God speaking to me about doing a full detox. Cool.

PS - Oh, I will also try to include an inspiring quote whenever possible. Like this.

“In the depth of winter I finally learned that there was in me an invincible summer.” - Albert Camus

What a badass that Camus is.

Thank you!

Let me take a moment here, and thank everyone who has been writing to me recently. Despite my absence of pictures, surprisingly, I'm apparently getting a lot more readers. Maybe I'm that ugly.

I'm sorry if I didn't reply you (I probably didn't, I suck) but it's really nothing personal. I mean, I barely reply my friends' messages. Like if someone from my childhood e-mailed me I'd just be like, oh okay that's great ... what's for dinner. You know? So don't hate me too much for it.

But it's really nice of you all to write in to me, and tell me that you love my blog/books, just to even know you're reading it. Also to everyone who's been telling me to stay strong in my moment of weakness, I really appreciate it.

There is no better love in the world, than to be loved by strangers.

:)

xoxo

Questions and paths.

Because sometimes there are so many you just have to write them all down.

Let's start with: What do you want?

Now let's watch shit happen.

Do you want a relationship? No.

But if you don't, why does it hurt? Because of some wrong decisions. I'm fixing them.

Say you've fixed them, and it still hurts. What do you do? I'll fix them some more.

Still hurts. What now? Look at the situation and see exactly what's so wrong about it. And if I'm happy, then I should just let things be the way it is, and not push it any further.

Why don't you want a relationship? Because I know I just can't function in one. Even if I may have a tiny desire for it now, I know it's just going to end up badly. I know it.

What are we talking about again? I don't know.

Start over: what do you want? I just want to be happy.

What do you think is going to make you happy? Before it used to be men, in the plural. Now, I don't know anymore. I can't tell you for sure, and I don't want to be telling you until I'm sure, but I'm thinking it might be a "man", in the singular. But at the same time, it might still be men in the plural. I don't know. 50-50. I don't know what I want.

Are you happy now? Yes.

Were you happy before? No.

How are you happy now, and not before? Because I made some wrong decisions, and I fixed it, and I'm recovering. I'm much happier now, and no longer buckling under the weight of my problems.

Is your solution a quick-fix, or will it last? It should last, until shit happens.

What are your plans? Sigh.

I'm no longer unhappy - that's one good thing. But now I'm just very confused because I completely cannot see the path that lies beyond me. And that just frustrates me. I must always be able to see the path beyond me, to know where I'm going in the future.

I want to know if I'm going to revert to old May Zhee in KL, and then what? Revert to new May Zhee in America when I come back? There are just some things that if I do as old May Zhee, I just can't undo. And I feel like I am capable of practicing restraint if I tell myself to. If I tell myself something is worth restraint for. But will I look back and regret this? Do I want to restrain? Or will it be a case of Wee Lim again, where I look back on the four years I've wasted and go, fuck, should have opted out when I could.

I think there's only one way to find out. And that is to be honest and talk it out. But sometimes being honest doesn't really help, does it? Because some things are just meant for you to know, because sometimes ignorance is bliss, because sometimes two heads really don't make things better.

But I guess I can try. I guess I can find out what is exactly going on with my heart. Set out all the options ahead of me. And then carve a path for every option. Find out if I should restrain, and if it's worth the restraint and - this question I have to deal with myself - if I want the restraint.

Assume the worst option/path:

Do I want to stop sleeping with other guys? Yes. Will he want me to stop sleeping with other guys, and will he make the restraint worth something? No, he doesn't really care. What happens next? I go back to KL, fuck around and come back to America, probably not even going to sleep with him anymore, as he realizes our fucking breeds clinginess, and does not want to perpetuate that.

Hmm. Doesn't sound too bad.

Another path.

Do I want? Yes. Will he want? No. What happens next? The pining and yearning gets worse, and I realize that I - and this is coming from my own conscience - cannot sleep with other men while sleeping with him, and I decide to just sleep with him, exclusively. That could be a) bad for me if he's making me unhappy b) okay if I'm okay c) really super fucking bad if while doing so I fall deeper and deeper for him and then one day he turns up with another girl d) not that super fucking bad if while doing so I don't fall further for him, which I should be capable of.

Oh, women. Why do we do this to ourselves.

Ten lines.

Did you miss me while you were looking for yourself out there?
Even heroes have the right to bleed,
For you I'd bleed myself dry.

This is the deep and dying breath, this love that we've been working on,
I just want to be there, when the morning light explodes,
Keep me where the light is.

I'm getting old and I need something to rely on,
Instead of stressed, I lie here charmed,
Lost inside, adorable illusion and I cannot hide,
I pray that something picks me up, and sets me down in your warm arms.

***

What is this, you ask? This is, in fact, my favorite lines from ten of my favorite songs muahahahahah. Did you think it was poetry I wrote myself muahahahaha. Oh I'm so deep.

Goals.

I like goals. Goals make me happy. Thinking about goals, setting goals, doing snow angels in my mental sea of goals. Achieving goals is obviously the best, but because that necessitates something called Time, which for me right now is going at its utmost leisurely pace, let's just stick to thinking/setting/doing snow angels in goals.

So these are my goals for the next semester. It's not too far away. It'll start on January 12, all the way till May something.

1. Get off campus more often. To the mall, or movies, or lunch/dinner outside every once in a while. Looking back on this semester, I have been out probably an average of twice a month. A MONTH. THAT'S 30/31 DAYS PEOPLE. Of course I'm having chronic depression. I can't be caged in! I'm like a bird I wanna fly away ... oh, a song, how lovely.

Point is. It's not about being away from home. It's about being away from elements that made home pleasant to me.

Exhibit A:


Zouk on Friday nights.

How can you confine a girl who makes it a point to go clubbing every Friday night to a college campus? In fact in the past three months (Jesus Christ three?!?) I have not gone anywhere near the vicinity of a bar/club.

No wonder I'm depressed.

Goal next semester is to spend one night a week in a place full of people I don't know.

2. Hate people less. Or try.

Like if a bunch of girls start talking in front of me in the library next semester, I will try not to picture them all falling off a cliff in the most heinous way possible.

Whereas at home I could do it, because life was great. But now that life isn't great, hating people will only make it worse. Isn't that great. In order to hate humanity I have to be happy again.

3. Read more. Write more. They make me happy.

4. Start 20-paged papers earlier.

5. To just appreciate shit. (Suggested by my awesome debater partner Lindsey.)

6. Visit the medical school, Eastman (our music school, which is better than yours btw) and the athletic center more often. Oh, academic pursuits of course.

7 - 9. To be determined.

10. And, finally, my biggest goal of next semester: letting go of the past.

I can't believe how ironic it is that when I came to America - during my journey here, in fact - I was blogging about how history serves no purpose and people who hold on to the past are pathetic and weak.

I never realized I was doing just that, in every aspect of my life too.

I keep thinking about what a great life I had, what great friends and teachers I had, how Malaysia was much better ... and I had unknowingly let the past live the present day for me. I have never once viewed America and college on their own, always in comparison with Malaysia and my past.

And I should know better.

So my biggest goal for next semester is to let go of the past. I tried to justify my actions before by saying I wasn't holding on to the past; I was just trying to lead the way of life I've once chosen for myself, but I have so desperately tried to jam it into my American world, like a misfit lego piece.

And that just destroyed me. I was unhappy pretty much everday. It occurs to me now that if I want to keep my way of life, I'm gonna have to do the ultimate reverse and stop glorifying what I've done in the past. Instead of getting all mad that I've fallen for a guy, and complaining I'm weak, and complaining that the old me would have done this and this, I should pick myself up and do what I can do within the confines of a college, and America. Sure, I won't have charming Spanish men to ease my soul here, but when have I needed charming Spanish men to do that?

It just recently hit me again how absolutely useless the past is. So what if I've pretty much gotten every man I wanted? I still feel jealous when I see the guy I like talk to girls, though I know for every girl he talks to, I can get ten men for myself. I still get hurt. So what if I've managed to get through 10 guys without developing feelings for them, but I do for the 11th?

And that's when the realization came. It doesn't matter if in the past I've been engaged to Prince William, because right now, in this moment, I was just a 20-year-old college student n America. And I'm going to have to solve my problems like one, not who I was in the past.

And when I knew that (well actually the process of finding out is still happening, right now) ... I was free. I may not be anywhere near the pinnacle of happiness, but at least I've managed to shed my excess baggage on my way there.

So even from today, no more. I am no longer the greatest woman on planet Zouk. I am in America. I'm 20 years old. I study English and History at University of Rochester. I love writing, and I'll always do. That'll never change about me. I don't believe in relationships or love, but sometimes I fall too. And that's okay. I'll learn to deal with it eventually. I like meeting new people, so I'm saying hi to you.

So tell me more about you. What are you studying here?

The day everyone thought I died.

That night I went back to my room and cried.

I sent an e-mail to my parents, telling them how much I missed them, and how when I go back home this Christmas, I won't want to come back to America anymore.

I thought about Shereen, and Debra, and Brooke, and I cried some more.

Then I just sort of fell asleep for a long, long time.

I was awoken in the morning by security knocking on my door. I opened it.

"..."

"..."

(I can't remember the conversation. It was groggy.)

"Are you alright? Your roommate called, she was worried."

"Yeah I'm fine. I was sleeping so I had my phone on silent, she was calling the whole night."

"The whole night?"

"..."

"..."

"I guess she was just being a good friend. So everything's alright?"

"Yeah, everything's fine."

I wasn't about to tell the security guard that I was having a self-crisis, and sleeping was my only way out at the moment, because it's not like I can do anything in this stupid country of his.

And so he left. And back to sleep, I went.

I woke up in the afternoon to take a head-to-toe shower, and resumed my sleep.

When I finally woke up for good, it had been 24 hours.

I woke up in search for food. I ordered in, because I didn't have my ID card, because I needed it to pay for food on campus, because my ID card was in a place I didn't want to go.

I also did not have my laptop, because it was also in the place I didn't want to go.

I did my laundry with quarters, because I didn't have my ID card, which would pay for my laundry.

At 2.30am, I went there. I figured there'd be no one there. There wasn't. I got my laptop and ID card.

I went back to my room, and went to bed.

The next morning, I got a call from my Dad, asking me why I had sounded so "desperate" in my e-mail. Then he told me to stop being couped up in my room everyday. He also told me to go to the gym.

When my roommate got back (she went home on weekends), we talked.

"Okay, so, what happened?!"

I told her what happened, with security and all. I told her what happened the night before, how I got so upset and ran back into the room.

"But ... why? What triggered it?"

"I don't know. I thought about how I was going to go back to an empty room that night and be all alone and I realized how much I hated being alone."

"I kept texting you and you didn't reply me, and then I woke up at 10 in the morning and you still didn't reply me. And I thought it was really weird because you always responded. I was so worried, my mom told me to call security. I couldn't even speak I was choking. My mom had to talk for me.

So you see ... you're not alone. I was worried for you. Someone was there for you."

When I cried, it didn't feel like I was crying because I was in America, and far from home. I was crying because I realized how much I hated who I am right now, when before I had loved it. I hated how I don't need people - and dislike people. I hated how I'm such a self-important bitch. I hated how I can't do relationships. I hated how personal success is the only measure of happiness to me. I hated how I don't think humans provide any value to me.

I'm no longer who I was before. The person I was before would not be crying into her pillow on a Saturday night.

On Saturday night, that became more glaring than ever. I turned down someone I knew I would have casually fucked (and have) had I been even half of the person I was before, and I found myself pining for the most abhorrent thing ever: company. Not sex. Just company. People have ceased to become objects that I use for my own ends, and discard after. People have become permanent fixtures in my life, that I need and pine for.

And when I realize I couldn't even get that on a Saturday night, I broke down.

I don't know how many breakdowns I'd have to go through before I start to heal properly again. I don't know. I just know that this time, I'm not making the same mistake I've made in my past when healing. I thought I was strong enough to face the one thing that was triggered my breakdowns, I thought I could face it and emerge stronger ... and I just end up falling apart. And again. And again. And again.

I never realized how much weaker I was now, and how I just can't do things I used to do when I was strong.

So I'm gonna go to a dress rehearsal for a staged reading now, in which a play I wrote is being performed. I love theater people. I always happy around them. In fact they're the only ones I can feel happy around in my moment of weakness.

And so off to the theater world, I shall go. Bye-bye!

Ten Things I Like About College:
1. People here are more mature, and less judgmental than high school kids. Also meeting smart, enthusiastic people with goals in life.
2. Being away from home.
3. Free condoms.
4. Skipping class is not punishable by death.
5. Being independent.
6. Many arts, cultural, etc events going on.
7. Americans.
8. Opportunity to stretch my limits.
9. More about America but woohoo free healthcare!!!
10. Professors who like Russia.

Ten Things I Don't Like About College:
1. Sharing the bathrooms. Or just sharing anything in general, really.
2. Being away from home.
3. Awful parties.
4. Americans.
5. Overstretching my limits.
6. Boys who try to hump you from the back on the dance floor.
7. Bad sex.
8. NOT BEING ABLE TO TAKE DUMPS BECAUSE YOU JUST CAN'T.
9. More about America, but the fucking weather here.
10. Never leaving it to go explore other exciting things in the city.

Now I'm about to go do things 1 and 8 on my Don't Like list, and after that I'm going to "stretch my limits" like no. 8 on my Like list, also known as "editing this play I wrote for next week's staged reading at 2.30 in the morning".

Woo.