Twenty-O-Five

Third day of us living in 2005, and I'm back again to my books, getting ready to face the bullshit test papers and cynical lecturers. It's been good, my holidays. I'd ended a relationship, surfed the best waves, had a fling with a young dude, worked in a barbershop, and perfected my pool table skills. Plus I had also gained a new friend and comrade, Treem, my hero extraordinaire.

Along with gaining a new friendship, I've also gained weight. It's not a problem to me as my hair is longer now and resembles some sort of an 80's Kate Moss wind swept hair, and I have a nice sun-kissed tan, so the extra padding gives me a good curvy figure. Badrul told me that I look sort of like Salma Hayek, if you squint your eyes hard enough.

I'm taking Pyschology this term. It should be good, one thing I'm looking forward amongst my science-infested subjects. I've always liked human behaviour especially the non-equality between genders, why that goddamn thing is such a fucking mystery, an infinity. I like relations and metaphors, which is the main reason I took up Cultural Anthropology last two semesters, eventhough I sucked at the final papers.

I saw the skinny boy at school yesterday. The one i bumped to at some party last year. He looked kind of cute. Probably a year younger, but that's never bothered me. He could make this semesteran interesting one. After that two year relationship trip, I am so through with serious commitments, for now.

I want to flirt and be flirt right back. I want to be 20 again. Not where I am now, totally ready and totally ripe for marriage and full time job. Urgh. Them 20 somethings don't know how incredibly lucky they are. Now all I worry about is the lines around my eyes and how I can't run as fast anymore, and the guys I knew are agonizing over thinning hair.

Think age is just a number? Think again.