a break, before getting down to mugging.
I was at that age when the "pre" in "preteen" was a really huge step; I was no longer 12 but 13, I started wearing low-rise/hipster bootcut jeans, guys were noticing me because of my boobs rather than my personality contrary to what Daddy kept saying, & I discovered a new found love-hate relationship with a certain red monster once every month. Hate, because it was a new thing & it was such a frickin' drag; love, because well,
Daddy dearest panicked (him being a single dad then & all) each time I said I had cramps & was practically immobilised, so he'd let me bunk about 2 days of school, or a week at most. Hoho, such manipulation.:)
My room had its walls covered with posters; almost every single INCH, pieces layered over piecies. Started from the Britney poster right smack in the middle of the wall opposite my bed, & it just grew from there till the wall ran out of space & I had to stick on the door, the wall at the head of my bed, and my cupboard, leaving my ceiling blank for those glo-in-the-dark stars. The biggest poster I'd owned was one of Eminem, a present from Daddy, which cost him about a 100 Rand.
Man, that room was a freakin' haven for me. It wasn't big - about 2/3 of my room now. But I had my own balcony, at which I'd escape to in the middle of the night for a cool breeze during autumn, where the moonlit ocean was breathtaking. Even sneaking down to
Chanel's house although rarely, because most of the time it was just too dangerous being quite a height up. My first stereo set; it'd be on 24/7, with the likes of hip hop & jazz blasting all day & night. My very own room telephone, granted to me after Nuraini & I had a huge argument over the one in the kitchen.
And when it finally came to the day when we had to leave, I remember just sitting there for nearly two hours straight, locking myself in with
Tyger &
Sheena for comfort; the bed was gone, the posters had been taken down, there was nothing left but a suitcase, Me, & the two cats on my lap.
And then I realised I never took a picture of my room in the state which I'd loved it, during the whole entire year being in that house.
I'm not sure why I wrote this out, I guess I just like to remember stuff, whether good or bad. And remind myself constantly to keep a solid piece of memory of a place or a person wherever I go, next time.
(I'll be going on hiatus soon, after the 2nd batch of Kuching pictures - sorry it's taking so long but it really is very slow to upload - during which I hope I get into SERIOUS "study mode". Just a heads up.)x.
