changes

Recently, I started noticing some peculiar things about myself. Most of you have probably already picked up on a few of my quirks. That's mostly because I'm a weird person in general. The latest strange thing I’ve noticed is my sudden fascination with properties and home decorating.

Oh, it gets worse, folks.

I began to realise that my nesting instincts have somehow swallowed the little tomboy who used to look a lot like me - the one who thought it would be fun to climb the mulberry tree and who once intentionally scraped her knee against the pavement just to see it bleed. The little tomboy who talked tough, tore herself on barbed wire fences for the sake of adventure, and climbed over the neighbour's yard just to be chased by their vicious dog.

When did that little girl suddenly realise that maybe scars weren't the coolest things in the world and there was more to life than challenging fear and tempting fate? How did she turn into such a girly girl?

Now, instead of fantasising about catching grasshoppers in jars, I dream about decorating my house one day. Instead of searching for ladybirds in the garden, I search my heart to see if I have what it takes to be a mother someday.

home beautification

This afternoon, I was watering my mum's two guava trees and noticed that they were still alive and much happier in this cool weather. I could see the birds dancing around them, so I devised a plan to keep the birds off. I assigned Chino, my dog, to be our official security guard. He loves to chase birds away from our yard, likely because he's territorial.

The birds usually fly and land on the tree as refuge from him. I once caught Chino trying to climb the guava tree. I don't think he understands that dogs cannot climb trees. But with his presence, the birds are too scared to peck at the fruits. Being the angel that my mother was, she insisted on leaving food out for the birds. After some intricate and complicated physics work, I was able to calculate how high to place the bird feeder so that it would be impossible for Chino to jump from the ground to the feeder without a serious concussion. Thankfully, my dog is a mathematical creature, as he hasn't broken any limbs. My plan is working like a charm because the guava trees seem healthier and the birds are whistling outside my window as I type.

While in our backyard, I saw three elaborate spider webs on our fence. The patterns were gorgeous and probably took those little spiders hours to create. So, I went inside, grabbed my Raid can, and sprayed all three. I hate spiders. The webs were not ruined (can't say the same for the spiders), and in fact, the glistening whiteness of the toxic spray left them looking very distinguished in the afternoon sun. I think the spiders were secretly pleased with the free touch of home beautification I supplied, though they were apparently too busy choking to death on the poison to truly express their gratitude.

social caterpillar

Some people are social butterflies. I'm a social caterpillar, hiding in my cocoon and stalling to fly out of my shell. It's not that I don't like people - I do, most of the time. It's not that I don't like talking - I do, to certain people. But small talk is annoying. It's pointless to spend a night out with endless conversations that go no further than, "Hi, how do you like this party so far? What do you do now, work, uni, unemployed? Do you hate reality TV, too?"

I'd rather talk to people about things that matter. For some people, the transition between small talk and substantial conversation comes easy. I have friends who can sit down with complete strangers and have fantastic conversations. I don't understand how this works. I can't even maintain a conversation with the people at work for over two minutes. Maybe I always lose interest, so I don't bother keeping up with the conversations. I'm more content talking to my close friends about what's happening with them. Does that make me antisocial? I can be social, but I can't fake an interest in people or bother to approach strangers, unless they are that handsome guy on the train. Maybe I just care too much about what people think of me. Or, perhaps I'm not willing to invest myself in others when I know that I will probably never see them again or see them often. Maybe I'm just lazy. To be polite and make small talk sounds like a lot of work.

On the flip side, I sometimes meet people with whom I have an instant connection. I automatically click with them, and conversations run smoothly with little effort. I get this gut feeling that I'll be good friends with them and feel comfortable sharing my personal thoughts, even if I've only just met them. This is what true friendships are made of - long-lasting friends with whom I will forever share that special bond.

rain

There was something about the November sky last night. The peculiar shades of grey in the heaving clouds and the cool sensation of the crisp air were so comforting and so lovely. I love rainy weather.

It rained as we walked around Darling Harbour, under one umbrella. Unlike other times, I didn't have to quicken my small steps to catch up with your big strides, and for the first time, I felt like I was up to your speed, or perhaps you unconsciously slowed down for me.

We sat and talked. I compared this time with the first time, the previous times, and the other times, and I realised so much and yet not much has changed. You're still poking fun. I'm still jokingly upset. We're evolving at the same pace as we're learning about each other. This is the beginning of a very beautiful friendship.

I liked how we shared one umbrella, though I became too self-conscious and fought the urge to walk in the rain by myself when you started to tease me. But I was hoping - wishing - that it would never stop raining, for I had found another reason to be fond of the rain.