I went swimming this afternoon. Apart from the fact that I braved the blistering cold of the water and of the weather in general in order to work towards achieving my ideal weight/figure, what was also cause for celebration was that I finally got bored of swimming breaststroke all the time and decided to switch it up. Ergo, for the first time in literally years, I tested out my free style.
I am pleased to report that I still have it in me. Booyah! The downside, though, was that it was so damn tiring that it pretty much sapped me of all energy and stamina (which I don't have much of, if I have any at all) after, like, one and a half laps - and my pool is really, really puny. I splashed around in the pool for a bit more before finally throwing in the towel and going back up to shower, and at one point my upper thighs were hurting quite badly.
Grah, I suck. A tiny voice in my head started laughing at me and mocked me by suggesting that I tested out my butterfly to see if I could still do it, and while I'm sure I can still manage a few strokes, I knew myself well enough to know better. It would have been quite hilarious and I didn't need to subject my mom - who was swimming with me - to that sight at all. Whatever it is, the stamina has to be strengthened, the tummy has to go, the weight has to go back to 48. I haven't weighed myself in damn long but I just KNOW that I'm at least 50, ohmygod. Okay, maybe 48 is too light but I'm quite tired of struggling really hard to fit my fat ass into my jeans, jeans that I used to have no problems putting on. And um, I bought a size 36 during the Mango sale. All my jeans, post-weight loss, are size 34's. Enough is enough, thank you. (This reminds me - I really need to pick up my jeans from the Marina Square Mango outlet. It's been there for like, two weeks now, I think. I sent it for alteration 'cause European chicks are way taller than Asian ones.)
I used to swim a lot as a kid and like everyone else who took swimming lessons, I learned all the strokes and can pretty much do everything. The only stroke that I can't do very well, if at all, is the backstroke. I can do the frog-style backstroke but not the non-obscene one. Water gets into my ears, my arms can't stretch, my legs can't kick, the last time I tried was like, in primary school, and I won't bother resurrecting that stroke long forgotten. As for the obscene version, it just doesn't look good so why bother?
On another note, a little incident from Friday made me smile, albeit more retrospectively than anything else. (Retrospectively because Friday was a fucking shitty day for me and I was irritated with a lot of people and things and when the incident happened, I was in a bad mood so I didn't think much of it until I'd calmed down and was in a much better mood.)
I was going up the stairs to the third floor from the first floor lift lobby. The door to the stairs opened and in walked this ang moh guy. When I was walking up the third flight of stairs, towards the second floor landing, the ang moh guy suddenly ran up the stairs, past me, and upon reaching the landing, opened the door for me!
Oh my god, how sweet. I was a bit surprised because...well, no one does that in Singapore (except Kenneth, but even so, I don't think he'd run up the stairs to open the door for a girl) and I just didn't expect it at all. Too bad I was going up some more. I pointed upwards, said that I was going up, and thanked him.
He was quite cute actually, but what really struck me about him was the fact that he was bare-footed. WTF? If I'd been in a more conversational mood, I would have made some inquisitive comment about it. Who runs around barefoot in the law campus?!
So yeah, that was one nice little incident that made my shitty Friday a little bit less shitty. Despite my pseudo-independent modern female exterior, I am quite a sucker for gentlemanly behaviour in members of the opposite sex and the stereotypical English gentleman archetype. The flip side of the coin is, ungentlemanly behaviour turn me off. I've been out with guys who are nice enough to drive to my house to pick me up, but totally turned me off when they stayed put in their cars and waited for me to get in. Guys that don't open doors for me are useless, and guys that fiddle with my car's stereo and air-conditioning without asking me first piss me off. A guy can be a nice person and I can enjoy his company, but if he doesn't open the door for me, if he doesn't open the car door for me, if he fucks around with my car's air-con, I simply stop caring. Why settle for less when I can have so much more?
The sad thing is, I can give you a whole list of things I don't want in a guy, ever, but if pressed to name the things I do want...it's pretty sketchy. On top of the list is, quite sadly, 'good looks'. One of my friends have commented a few times that I've only dated good-looking guys so far, which is true to a certain extent. And you know what? I don't want that trend to stop. Am I shallow? Am I superficial? You bet I am. Like I have probably said before, whatever arm decorating has to be a two-way thing, thank you very much.
Chloe has asked me a few times if I'm lonely. The short answer is, I'm not. I honestly have no interest in getting emotionally involved with someone; it's too much work, it's way too tiring, and I'm just too self-absorbed and self-obsessed to bother with someone else's emotional junk. The only thing - and I mean, ONLY thing - I miss about being in a relationship and having a boyfriend is the physical contact. While I avoid physical contact with regular people like the plague (I don't like hugging friends, even female friends, and I go out of my way to avoid any sort of physical contact with my male friends. Yeah, I'm weird), I love physical contact with a boyfriend. It might be the only reason why I would conceivably want a boyfriend right now; all the other stuff that inevitably comes with a relationship don't interest me at all.
I thought I would need it again after it was gone. I thought I would be lonely, or feel lonely, I thought I'd need someone else to fill up the gap. But I was wrong, and I wonder if I ever needed anyone at all with the first, second, third boyfriend. Why even bother if you don't feel empty? Why should I feel sad or sorry for myself if I feel full with my own company? I don't need to experience it to see what it's like, because been there done that got the t-shirt and subsequently threw it away. I can't even say what I'm looking for because I'm not, and I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything at all. It'd be nice to have someone like Tim Canterbury, but that's a luxury and a bonus more than anything else, and the Logan Echolls/Veronica Mars epic love story type is untenable and wholly unsustainable in real life. Once again, been there done that got the t-shirt burned it and not interested in getting another one.
Well, so much for that. I'm going to watch a bit of the US Open in a few minutes. Roger's playing tonight, but he's after Jelena Jankovic's match, which means he's probably going to start at 1 a.m. I have class at 9 tomorrow. Thank goodness for my VCR!
And um, I did no readings the whole weekend. ARGH. I hate studying.
Edit: Wah lau I turned on SuperSports to watch tennis and it was football. What the hell? They're showing the morning session at 12 midnight. WTF WTF WTF. THEY HAVE STARTED PLAYING ALREADY. Stupid SuperSports.