22 July 2004

Regarding my opinion on the hotness of choirboys: I stand corrected. Our first formal choral encounter with the all-singing, all-dancing “I Feel the Earth Move” guys proved to be an interesting experience. Of course it wasn’t much of a surprise as we had already seen most of those guys before and had therefore deduced that they were made up of mostly geeky/freaky/otherwise uncheck-outable specimens anyway. But alas, from my vantage point on the high seats at the back of the hall I spotted one singular hot guy. ONE hot guy. Just the ONE. Out of what, about sixty other guys? (Okay, so maybe I don’t stand corrected after all…) And apparently everyone else noticed as well as they were all talking about him afterwards and have since christened him Hot Dude for obvious reasons. Sometimes, it sure is tragic going to a girls’ school. But he WAS pretty hot. Wavy brownish hair with blonde streaks, great features and a commendable dress sense. So almost my ‘type’. But short! Oh so short! Like half a head shorter than me! I swear, all the drool-worthy guys I have ever known have been total shortarses! Why oh why does that have to be so??? It’s so unfair! They’re blonde, they’re hot, but noooo, if they were taller it just wouldn’t do! It’s like up there they’re making the checklist in the good looks book and they come across all the hot, blonde, so-my-type ones and they’re like, should we make him tall as well as hot? Nah, that’d ruin all the fun! Let’s just throw the spanner in the works and make him hopelessly short! It sucks, I tell you, it sucks! Bloody hell, why are all the pretty boys so goddamn short?!

Oookay. Deeeeep breaths. Breathe, girl, breeeeathe! Please disregard the little outburst over there, no harm was intended by it… But anyway, all the musos are so much hotter than the choirboys! We’re practicing the piece with the full orchestra and I’m seated right behind Xylophone Boy who happens to be extremely cute in a tanned, suitably TALL, curly-haired, pretty boy, pre-pubescent lanky in a 25 kilos when wet kind of way. And bears a slightly freaky resemblance to a certain Spanish tennis player. But most importantly he’s at least my age or older! Guaranteed! So I spent most of the hour and a half staring at Xylophone Boy’s (painfully skinny – you could see the bones in his spine when he leant over) back because I was so bloody bored and the song itself was a complete mess. My friend N (whose hormones have yet to kick in) later agreed that he was cute but then (very unrightly!) compared him and the certain Spanish tennis player to chimpanzees and proceeded to spend the rest of the day making monkey arms at me across the room. Sometimes my friends are all total retards.

Posted By Little Miss Nobody//9:16 pm

0 comments

10 July 2004

I’m idling a weekend afternoon away when MD sits down next to me and begins to blast me with A Talk. Thankfully not The Talk, or one of its innumerable variants, but a Talk nevertheless. She starts off with a reasonably open-ended “let me tell you a story”.

“Once there was this girl that your father was really into. Now this was a bright and attractive girl, with a lot going for her. Your father really liked her, but she didn’t feel the same way. You see, back then there were four things that a girl would look for to judge whether a man was suitable for marriage. One was educational level, like how far he had gone in school or college and whether he had any qualifications. Two was occupation, whether he had a white-collar job. Three was looks and four was how much money his family had. Your father was very hardworking or studious but he was still going through college at the time so he didn’t have any qualifications and he was working in a factory to support himself. He wasn’t much of a looker and his family wasn’t rich so your poor dad didn’t have anything going for him! So naturally she wasn’t interested.

“Anyway, one day she made some bad beauty product choices and got this terrible acne that just wouldn’t go away. She was a lovely girl, but from then on she never really had much confidence in herself anymore. She ended up getting married to this Canadian man that a friend introduced to her. When she was forty. Forty! So the moral is: never mess around with skincare products while you’re still young and don’t need them.”

WHAT THE????

Posted By Little Miss Nobody//5:28 am

0 comments

5 July 2004

So it’s like halfway through the evening, completely dark and we’ve got the heating turned up to about 30 degrees because it’s absolutely freeeeezing outside. For wont of anything more interesting to do (I know, I know, I really need to get a life), I was sitting on the couch next to my mother watching an unbelievably tacky karaoke VCD. It’s featuring this baby-faced woman in extremely dated clothing – but not of the oh-so-cool back in fashion retro kind – with silver sequins stuck on every available inch of her sack dress BLINDING me through the television monitor. The blue words scrolling across the screen are fuzzy and unintelligible and the music is at least two seconds ahead of the performer’s singing. So the disembodied voice is projecting from the speakers but honey, the lips ain’t moving! And it was that very specific late-70s/early-80s corny female love ballad. What was even sadder was the earnestness with which the woman serenades you with ‘you ask me how much I love you… the moon represents my heart’ though quite frankly I don’t understand how the moon representing your heart can be a good thing as it is a million miles away, filled with craters and not even visible half the time. AND she’s holding this little fluffy dog about thirty years before people like Paris Hilton made the little fluffy dog a must-have fashion accessory.

Then there are these gag-inducing panoramic shots of some heavily industrialized city at nighttime, panning out into a shot of a cardboard cutout of a Jackie Chan look-alike and some random woman in a passionate embrace propped up next to a car. It was SO LAME. So lame it was hilarious. So I’ve burst out laughing and Mother Dearest is looking at me like I’ve just sprouted antennae or something and she’s just like, what’s so funny?

Sometimes, I lose any hope I ever had for my mother completely…

Posted By Little Miss Nobody//9:54 pm

0 comments

1 July 2004

So today I went and paid a crazy amount of my folk’s money (that could have otherwise bought me a very nice pair of jeans, thank you) to take part in the Tai Chi workshop. When I could’ve spent a perfectly constructive day vegging out in front of the TV. We spent the first forty minutes waiting for a late instructor and another fifty for lunch that got me bored enough to take a half-hour walk around the block. Lovely. But anyway, I got to take all my stress out on a hapless old punching pad, throw ‘Brendan’ over my hip (more on that later…) and generally actively burn sugar (figuratively, not literally) so it was all good.

But those weren’t the only reasons it was so enjoyable. The other reason? You guessed it. ‘Andrew’. I know he’s been learning this stuff since like before I was born or something, but still! It is unnatural for someone to be as graceful and coordinated and so damn sexy at the same time! *drools* And, and, and, and he actually talked to me! And touched my hand! Okay, so he was adjusting my posture and position but hell, do I care what it was for?? And then he smiled at me! He smelled really nice too, sort of a mix between green tea and some spicy woody substance. Excuse me while I go fan myself.

Okay, shut up! I know that’s really sad! And I know he’s like, OLD. But hey. He IS really hot, I swear he is, I swear he is! I am such a sucker for the hot ones.

Right. And my other other reason. ‘Brendan’. He’s almost my age… Not almost as in he’s younger than me, but almost as in he’s older. (But shorter – what’s with my thing with short guys?!) It’s funny, I saw him about a year ago and he wasn’t hot then. But that might’ve had something to do with the horrid artificially coloured shaggy ‘a2n’ hair. He’s got a proper non-girly haircut now. And he’s gone back to his natural colour. Two thumbs up. Anyway, he’s not really hot in the traditional sense, but he is so cute! Like as a person. And so totally endearing. And incredibly talented with his sword. Oh my god, I have just realised how terrible that sounded! I swear I’m not deliberately trying to come up with barely-veiled sexual innuendos! Gosh, I hope I didn’t seriously hurt him when I threw him over my hip. Speaking of which that was VERY fun… But imagine that – me attracted to a chinky guy. I learn new things about myself every day.

Oy, my hormones are so out of whack right now.

Posted By Little Miss Nobody//5:50 pm

0 comments