THE ONE - that got away

It's been 6 months since I last spoke to him. Almost a year and a half since he was mine, and yet, there is still a singe of jealousy, and some sense of loss that surfaced within me when I heard about his new relationship. 

Am I over him? Sure, I guess. As much as one can be over a seven year friendship/relationship. Does that mean Im ready to hear about how special his new girlfriend is to him? Not really. 

Five months this Friday, he tells me. I count back. Five months this Friday was his birthday. I should be happy for him. I want to be, I do. But after checking out her Facebook, I'm picturing them doing all the things that we had done, going to the places we had been to, the things he had said to me. "She's very special to me", what does that mean exactly? 

I should be happy with the relationship I am in. Coming up to six months next week. He makes me happy, he does. But there was always some part of me, in the back of my mind that whispered, "maybe, some day..." To find out that thought was completely one sided, it forced me to question my worth. Perhaps I wasn't as special to him as he was to me?

I scrunch my brow as I erase that thought from my mind. Of course I was. That's why it took him so long to move on. "I don't hate you", he had told me. But he probably does resent me. Months after our relationship had ended, he felt like I was toying with him. Giving him hope, then taking it away.  I didn't mean to. I was lost. I needed him to be my Prince Charming, just one more time. I didn't realise how much of a toll that had taken on him. Maybe one day he will forgive me for that. 

No matter what, just know that you will always be in my heart. You'll be my "one". Even if the feeling is not mutual.  I hope Courtney treats you well, and I hope you have a happy life. 

I will love you, always. 

An Update

I'm currently sitting at my desk, in an office shared with, at this moment, 5 other people, although there should be 10 people in here. There are 3 people in this office who literally sits at their desk the whole day, except for their one hour lunch break, when they disappear and I have no idea where they go. The other people in this office just come and go all the time. Five of which are the Marketing team, 3 of those on the Marketing team are international marketers - Chinese, Indian, and Vietnamese - and because of the time difference for their communication with their respective countries, they technically don't need to be in the office all the time. 

As for me... well, I'm supposed to be here from 10am-5pm, with a 1 hour lunch break in between. I am supposed to sit with my ass glued to my chair and arms to my desk for these 6 hours. However, as someone who has worked, for the past 3 years, in hospitality, where I am constantly standing, moving, and on the go, talking to customers and answering phone calls, it’s been quite a challenge for me to sit for even 2 hours at a time without standing up and taking a lap around the building - and even more so after my morning cappuccino.

I’m starting to settle into my Auckland City loft apartment. It's still quite a mess, while I figure out how I can implement some storage space into this big, square studio. It gets a bit boring some nights on my own, so I try to find some things to keep myself busy (seems to be the theme of my life lately). Last night on the agenda was, cooking myself some Spaghetti Bolognese!  And so, as I was frying up the already chopped onion and minced beef, I came to the realisation that I did not own a can opener – disaster! Am I going to attempt cooking Bolognese without tomato puree? I shut off the stove (an important step, I would say!), got changed (I was pretty much already in my PJs) and ran out to the Asian supermarket just across the street (how convenient). 

Okay, so my apartment currently smells like sautéed onions and beef, whatever. But the spaghetti turned out pretty damn good. A lamp and some candles for ambience, a glass of Pinot Noir, The OC playing on my laptop, and a bowl of home-made Spaghetti Bolognese, what else could I ask for on a Monday night by myself?

Let’s see what the rest of the week has in store for me!

Beauty Begins Today!

Growing up, people are always asking me, "Ruby! How do you keep your skin so white! Gosh you have great skin, how do you do it?"  I guess I've just been naturally blessed with good skin. Non-oily skin, from my mom's side (no pimples), and very white skin, from my dad's side (I tan, I peel, and I'm white again).

So, growing up with skin like mine, I've never really cared much for skincare. Who needs skincare when you have naturally beautiful skin? But now that I'm working at a fast food restaurant (Pizza Hut), everyday, I come home covered in smells of frier oil, and with oily skin, face and body! That can't be good for my skin at all!  I've also realized, (after countless reminders from my mom growing up), that my skin will age, and it won't always stay as nice as it was when I was younger. So I've decided that I will start taking better care of my skin.  So that means, pore strips, face mask, moisturizers, and SUNSCREEN! And of course, watching my nutrients, making sure I eat lots of fruits and vegetables that are good for my skin, and drinking lots and lots of WATER!!!

I've started to research on some everyday ingredients that are great for the skin, and some really great recipes for homemade face masks.

So, I am going to start sharing some of the information that I have found and have used, that are beneficial for the skin.  I hope everyone will find it helpful!

Sweet Cottage

On Monday, we took a Trip to Coromandel, on the East coast of the North Island. After five hours of driving and stopping, we had finally arrived at Coromandel town, and started to look for the right motel to stay at.  The plan had been to stay at Coromandel for one night, head down South towards Waihi, and stay they second night at Tauranga.

The first Motel we looked at had names for each cabin, with spa baths in each of the units.  It was cute, but the price for 3 people was $155/night! We told the host that we'd talk about it.  The second one we stopped at was quite spacious. The unit had a living room, a bedroom with a king size bed in it, and another bedroom with two single beds in it. And of course, with a room that large, the price couldn't have been cheap! It was $165 per night.  We carried on looking.


After driving through the Coromandel town three times and seeing a sign for a motel up a long hill, we finally decided we would stop there and ask for the price.  The sign for the motel said "Celadon Cottages". We had no idea what to expect of a cottage.  In the office, the host and his (probably about 21 year old) daughter were friendly and warm. The daughter showed us a room that would be $105 a night for the three of us.  As soon as I walked into the room, I was stunned speachless! It was a block of rooms, with all of the rooms connected to each ther by doors.  There was even a sun deck.  This room was just too cute!


As the 21 year old girl showed us another room that would $95 a night, I waved at my dad, who was in the car, for him to come look at this room. I told him that I could not even describe it! I asked the girl if we could see the other room again, and when dad saw it, we decided that this was the place we wanted to stay.  I felt bad that we had to lie to the owners about sneaking in a dog, since they had been so friendly and hospitible, so we told them that we had a dog.  She said that it was fine, it's only an extra $10 for the cleaning! So the cutest cottage unit stay ever, and it costed $30 less than all the other motels! It's just amazing!


Unfortunately, the weather was quite terrible, so we only ended up staying the one night in Coromandel, then headed back to Auckland the next day.  On the way back to Auckland, we visited the Train and Pottery show, which was pretty cute.  I really enjoyed it.

Acceptance

Lord,

grant me the serenity 

to accept the things I cannot change,

courage 

to change the things I can

and wisdom 

to know the difference.

Living one day at a time; Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace.

Taking, as He did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it.
Trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His will.

That I may be reasonably happy in this life,

And supremely happy with Him forever in the next.

This prayer has become very helpful to me.  Even though I am not an alcoholic or drug addict, the meaning of this prayer helps me get through the day.  When something happens that gets me angry or worked up, I recite the first three lines in my head.  It has become important for me to understand, accept the things that are out of my control, and to focus on the things that I can change for myself, to better myself towards the goals that will make me happier.  

Even though it has been hard for me to keep my composure, it is a work in progress.  I just need to remind myself to take deep breaths, and accept things that I cannot change, because no matter how frustrated I am, the things that happen are still going to happen, with or without me.

I know this is kind of a short blog, but for me, it is an important one. 

Fear

I'm not sure how I came to learn to fear people who had been drinking.  Maybe it was that trip away, when I was six, where my mother had half a glass of wine, and her screeching laughter sounded like an evil witch.  Perhaps it was that particular night, many, many years ago, when my father was so drunk, my mother told me to push my bed against my bedroom door to sleep at night, because my door did not lock.  Maybe it was all the roaring arguments I'd hear late at night, because my father had worked his way into a bottle of vodka. Or could it be something that I witnessed when I was so young, that I couldn't even recall?

For as long as I remember, I have disliked, been impatient with, or have been just plain annoyed with people, espeically men, who would even have one beer.  I've always known that I didn't like it when people close to me drank.  But I never really knew why.  I'd always try to rationalize, that I dont like the smell or the taste, or, my latest rationalization, I don't know if they're sober enough to comprehend or remember what I say to them.  But it wasn't till very recently, that I felt something deeper within me.  Fear.

While alone in the house, late at night, with no one but my father, who had begun drinking since 4pm, and my dog, Charlie, who is as gentle as a labrador could be, I decided it was time for bed.  I heard dad's footsteps stomp up the stairs, and then some noises that sounded like screaming.  I wondered if maybe he was on the phone, either laughing to his mistress, or yelling at my mother.  I cracked my door open so I could better make out the words he was slurring.  He was taunting Charlie, in a way a highschool bully would a kid whose head was being shoved into a toilet bowl.  That was when I felt it.  I feared for Charlie's life.  I knew that if my mother was home, if dad tried to do anything, she would stop him.  But I was too scared to go up there.  I was too scared to confront him while he was drunk.  I feared for my life, too.

I came to realise that the father I once trusted so completely, I no longer did.  He gave me fear.  Fear for my life, fear for my mother's, and fear for my animals'.

Computer Science

So at Uni right now, in my Compsci 111G class. We're learning all abou the internet and email and blogs and all such.  It's kind of exciting, especially since I haven't posted on my blog for so long, it's about time for a new entry.

Now... what happened this morning. Well, I was woken up an hour early by an obnoxious mosquitoe that wouldn't leave me alone. I decided to get a start on the day, so maybe I won't be late for the train. The train was at 8.52am, and even though I had a head start, the traffic slowed me down pretty good. Oh! The corner spa came in just as I was about to back out the driveway. That caused a little bit of delay. Then, since I missed the train and was at Sylvia Park already, I decided to go get my hair cut. Exciting! I've been wanting to get my hair cut for months! (No exageration!) By the time I came out of the salon, it was 9.30, so I dashed into my car and vrooomed off onto the streets. Traffic. Jam. I barely made it to class on time, and I parked in a 90 min parking space for a 3 hour class.

Speaking of which! I gotta go move my car!!!