Staircase for Brains
“The French term “l’esprit de l’escalier,” which translates literally as “the wit of the staircase,” refers to those perfect, clever comebacks that you only think of after the fact.”
Thank you, LiveJournal homepage, for finally giving me a name for the thing I experience on a daily basis but have no idea what to call.
More from Wikipedia:
L’esprit de l’escalier (stairway wit) is the sense of thinking of a clever comeback when it is too late. The phrase can be used to describe a riposte to an insult, or any witty, clever remark that comes to mind too late to be useful—when one is on the “staircase” leaving the scene. The phenomenon is usually accompanied by a feeling of regret at having not thought of the riposte when it was most needed or suitable.
Originally a witticism of Denis Diderot, the French encyclopedist, in his Paradoxe sur le Comédien.
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Nastia Liukin for Max Azria SS09
Flowy dresses + my favorite sport showcased by my favorite Olympian from 08? Wow, Max Azria, you sure know just how to appeal to my attention. I’ve never been big on fashion, but I think I just found my favorite campaign ever.
Source: www.maxazria.com/spring2009
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Tags: contortion, Fashion, gymnastics, Nastia Liukin
Job hunting.
Since the last time I’ve updated, several things have happened. Let’s see: I graduated from university, people have come back and gone for winter break, I’ve turned 22, but oh yeah, I still don’t have a full-time job.
Illustrator boy had his art show opening two weeks ago, and I think the collective effect of that and my meet-up with a friend of a friend who’s really well-connected in the PR industry (and the subsequent cover letter writing/resume updating) has got me thinking that I’m starting to fall behind on my career path. I’ve been so comfortable with sleeping in and my lifestyle of being the ultimate post-college bum that I haven’t really thought about what I want to do with my life next for the previous months, it took something like IB’s show opening to get my ass in gear. Most of my friends are pretty ambitious about what they want to do when they graduate. Actually, that’s not entirely true but I know B wants to work in New York when he’s done with school, Jul is well on his way to becoming the barrister that he wants to be (speaking of which, I should probably go visit him in Oxford before he’s done), and most, if not all, of IB’s friends are young professionals. Why does the economy have to fuck up this year? It almost makes me want to just apply for MA Communications and hide out for a year til it gets better, which I probably would do if HKBU didn’t reject me last year and install this fear of a 2nd rejection in me.
My point is, this past week I’ve been brushing up my rough cover letter template and polishing my resume. (I finally took out all the trivial tutoring/teaching jobs that I’ve once been so proud of, since who the fuck cares if you’ve been teaching for the past 6 years when you’re not even seeking a career in education?) I also got my recommendation letter from HK Magazine, which I’m still in shock about, since 1) I never worked in marketing, and 2) I sort of quit by just stopping to show up one day. Yay for networking! Now the only thing left for me to do is to search the millions of job advertising websites and mass emailing out my information. Ugh. I really hope I get a concrete response from Weber Shandwick about needing someone. I NEED MY MONEH!
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Second Thoughts.
Illustrator Boy update:
Since the last time we met up and the first time we locked lips, I saw him again this past weekend. Dragging two friends with me, I went to this club event that IB’s friend was spinning at, though this is irrelevant since I pretty much went to see IB. I guess he assumed that I had my own friends to entertain, as did he, so we barely interacted. As the night wore on, B came and joined us because he was apparently depressed “from work and girlfriend trouble” (will elaborate later), and to prevent any chance of him witnessing what I have with IB, my friends (B included) and I went bar/lounge hopping for the rest of the night. Oh, yes, and as I was saying my goodbyes, I gave IB an innocent goodbye peck on the lips :) Eventually, IB informed me that he had already left the club, and was either going to go to another club or to karaoke – they went to another club. I tried to get myself and my friends into the venue, but because the bouncers were being such douches, we decided to go eat instead. Not long after, IB texted me, saying “Are you downstairs? I wanna see you before you leave. Call when you’re downstairs.” As we were about to leave, IB calls me saying that he’s leaving now, to which I reply that I’m on my way up to say bye. Somehow, we decide to leave together. During the cab ride, he suggested that we watch a movie together later this week. The best part of the night/morning was when he decided to get off the taxi with me and we made out against the wall of my building, right in the middle of the street. Hot hot hot. As he decided to pull away, he looked right at me and said “I can’t stop” and we were back to square one. And I’m not complaining.
Anyhow, I had all my hopes up for our “movie date” tomorrow only to find out that he won’t be able to make it. I was, and still am, tempted to text him saying something like “I’m bummed that I won’t be seeing you before I leave” (to Bangkok on Friday, baby!) or “I was looking forward to hanging out” but since I don’t even know what his intentions are, I should probably play it cool for now.
In fact, it was all of this thinking that ignited me to write this entry. See, when I first met him earlier this year in February, we seemed to click really well. On that first night, we talked like we’d known each other for a while, and it was just that feeling of knowing that there’s some sort of chemistry (not necessarily romantic/sexual). But we’ve hung out the weeks following our first meeting, and I’ve seen him hook up with a girl – who is his friend’s friend, also a girl I went to high school with, small world – as well as being really friendly with another girl. I don’t know if the second girl meant anything, but I did some facebook stalking and they exchanged “I miss you”s.
I really don’t know what to think of Illustrator Boy. All that has happened between us (which really isn’t that much, I know, but still) and the butterflies-in-my-stomach after effect is confirmed that I do want to pursue something with him, but the hardest part is not knowing what he’s seeking to get out of it. Are they the same as mine? What does he think of me? I originally thought that his proposal to watch a movie in broad daylight was indicative of something more than just a post-alcoholic hookup-slash-bootycall, but since that plan has fallen through, I don’t know what to think. We planned to meet up when I’m back from the Land of the Thai, so I guess I’ll just have to try and not overanalyze anything until then. UGH.
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Tags: fling, hooking up, Illustrator Boy, Relationships
Grammar Fascism.
Ever since I was a kid, things like misspelling have always just popped out at me without me even having to make a conscious effort to notice them. Even now, I often find myself stopping in the middle of an article just to make note of a typo, or just involuntarily editing a friend’s spelling error while reading through their essay. Needless to say, I am pretty damn anal-retentive when it comes to grammar, if you haven’t already noticed from previous entries. I think a big part of it might have to do with my OCPD, but maybe I’m just faithful to the English language, har har.
Anyway, here are a bunch of things off the top of my head that get on my nerves:
- “more (adjective)-er”; e.g. more stronger [inspiration thanks to my yoga instructor]
- confusing past tense verbs with present/future tense; e.g. she eating the cake tomorrow. ARGH
- confusing singular nouns with plural (e.g. 2 peoples)
- “more better”
- incorrect usage of you’re v.s. your
- they’re v.s. their v.s. there
- its v.s. it’s
- lose v.s. loose
- grammar v.s. grammer
- separate v.s. seperate
- definitely v.s. definately
- typos, period.
Stay tuned for a follow-up entry, cause there will be one.
Filed under: Language, Rants | 1 Comment
Tags: bad English, English, grammar, Pet Peeves, spelling, typos
Rewind.
Every now and then, my mind likes to play a little game with me where it rewinds fragments of my memory and plays it frame by frame, detail by detail, like some sort of twisted motion picture.. and I feel my heart break all over again.
When will you truly heal?
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Pet Peeve #5
People who send webcam invites without even a word of consent. They just say hi, halfheartedly ask how you’re (or I’m, rather) doing, and WHAMBAM -
[INSERT NAME] is inviting you to start sending webcam. Do you want to Accept (Alt+C) or Decline (Alt+D) the invitation?
Hell no. Especially when I hardly even talk to you on a normal basis. Who do you think you are? Saying “nice display pic you got there” is not a legit excuse to expect me to show you my undeniable sexiness. HAHA I kid, I kid. But you get my drift.
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Pet Peeve #4
When people (guys, especially) whine over the phone thinking that their endless moaning like a little 5-year old girl begging daddy to buy them their beloved toy would change my mind.
Case in point: Halfway through my sweet slumber this morning, a friend of mine called asking if I wanted to come down and have breakfast with him as he was downstairs of my house. I decline; he persists. “Reaaaaally? Are you seeeeerious? Reaaaaaally?” This goes on for about two to three minutes, until I raise my voice and firmly say no. He replies and angrily says fine, I hang up. For the love of god, if you’re 22 years old (and older than me), please refrain from talking like that. If you think it makes you sound cute, hoping that would soften my heart, it doesn’t.
Other examples include said friend calling in the middle of the night asking me to go out for a midnight snack with him – “come onnnn. you know you want itttt. pleaaaase. *sadface *sadface” and to keep him company while he shops near where I live. Ugh. He’s a great friend and all when he’s normal, but otherwise it’s like dealing with an annoying little brother. One who also likes to play with whatever interesting object you have that intrigues him, e.g. my bangles, which he tried on and snapped, but that’s a story for another time.
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Note to Self.
From The Intimate Adventures of a London Call Girl:
The benefits of sex with an ex:
- No chance of being shocked by what he looks like naked the first time.
- Not having to ask awkwardly for contact details after. If you don’t have them, it’s not by accident.
- He knows where your buttons are, how many there are, how long they need to be pressed and whether they should go side-to-side, up-and-down or in little circles.
And the drawbacks:
- There’s probably a good reason you’re not together any more, a very good reason.
- One of you will think this means the relationship is back on. (Sidenote: in my case, that “one” would probably be me.)
- There is absolutely no way you can tell any of your friends without coming off as the world’s biggest prat. After all, they had to live with you post break-up, right?
Filed under: The Ex, Unoriginal | Leave a Comment
Tags: Belle du Jour, breakup, ex-boyfriend, ex-sex
One Year.
No, it’s not a special anniversary of anything worth celebrating. On the contrary, it’s already been about a year since I first learned about Isahoe.
I remember hearing from a friend (who had a friend that always hung out in B’s dorm room because one of their friends – complicated, yes, I know – was B’s roommate) that there was this other girl in the picture. I spent that entire day putting on a brave face, trying not to show on my face that what I had just heard was probably the most devastating thing a girl could be told about her S/O. Went home, B wasn’t online, so I put it off til the next day.
The next afternoon, I remember acting really awkward when talking to B – he had no idea what I knew at the time. He started out by asking how my weekend was, I told him I went to the Sevens. Eventually I couldn’t hold it in and started crying. He asked me what was wrong, I hesitated.
“I heard something really disturbing yesterday..”
“Are you okay? What was it?”
“.. I heard that there’s this other girl.”
“.. I’m not seeing anyone else, but there’s this girl who likes me.”
He said he’d take a day to think about it, to think about who he’d choose. I cried myself through the night.
The next day, we officially broke things off to the claim that we were in a relationship that had already started deteriorating even before he left for university. And that he’d rather have an unsuccessful relationship with that girl than to hang onto a string for another 2 years. He also said shit like how he’s afraid of anything too serious, and that he couldn’t see us going anywhere.
Thinking back, he really was contradicting himself. Over winter break, he was telling me how he’s staying with Isahoe because he loves her, despite the fact that he hates her for being a loose whore (also reason why he cheated on her, because he wanted to get back at her). He threw out details like how she’s planning to marry him and takes care of him. Whatever. In retrospect, he made all sorts of excuses and lies just to rationalize his being with her and choosing her. Even though he hates her skanky persona.
I hope she gives him herpes, and that both their genitalia start to rot from their scandalous behavior. It’s his choice to choose a slut who brags about flinging open the curtains to the changing room just so people can admire her and generate “the response [she] was looking for” and puts herself on a broken pedestal, one she doesn’t deserve. Especially one whose eyes are too far apart, teeth have an overbite, and can only be described with the expression “hit with the ugly stick.” That’s the least that karma can do for me.
I hate how even though it’s already been a year, the slightest reminder of the emotions I felt during that day can still bring me to tears. It’s these days that I regret not taking advantage of B’s offer to let me slap him, saying that I could if it made me feel better. I wish the deadliest of curses upon those two scums of the earth. And I need a new distraction.
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Tags: anti-love, cheater, ex-boyfriend, past relationship, rant
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