.:but I remember:.

...then I grew up, from the day-dream that things would never change - that I, mighty me, would never wear make up or torture myself in high heels, that my best friends in high school would still be my very best friends when I am close to death... I am sure everyone is fine with this radiant transformation. People change - how cliche'- yet how true, we know it too well that no one want to admit how hurtful it actually is: our memories gradually fade away like the calendar flipping, thinning and being torn restlessly... The day I walked out of my house 29th Sep, 2005. I never knew I would return home today in this metamorphosis, 6th Dec, 2009. My once-upon-a-time-ear-shot hair now passes my waist. My half-hip pants now are now buried to the very bottom of my closet - getting ready to be given away... I wonder what will happen in 4 years time, after college... I still don't know, and I do not desire to make such undesirable assumption of miracles and surprises -  what supposed to be life's gift to me. You may discard these bits and pieces of the past - the days when we qualified the very definition of what we now laugh at: "country pumpkin". You may jolly well do it, but i

but I remember

I remember clearly the way I looked in secondary school and high school. As if it matters now, but somehow these memories complete the picture of my childhood - of the relationships I had with the people around me. I am sure I have always been one of the most undesirable girls in class, may be not the worst, but among the big NO-NO thanks to my dad who always cooks delicious food... How nice it is to blame it on someone else, especially my dear father who takes pride in this cooking skill... In short, rudely and shamelessly I was really fat, in the Asian definition of Fatness -  which in another word, I refused to believe I am any chubby in the West - though that was not the point. The point is, I remember how I once had to buy a guy shirt, in stead of a girl shirt as a group uniform with my 6 other close friends - who of course, finds size XS a little too huge. I was definitely humiliated and bitter. They did not know much, and I guess even Huyen Anh, who witnessed my tears rolling down on the way back from the stupid shop, would not remember but i, but I remember those days... Now I wear guy shirt, still. Loving it. Not by force or desperation like the sad old days but by choice, fashion anyway. With a tiny belt around my waist and there I go.

But then again. you may wonder why I am writing these things down... I am not a intention-less writer. Yesterday, I saw a guy who claimed to take interest in me - the new me - the already transformed me making a cruel joke about a chubby girl. She was not that bad, maybe she was like me, back then, I did not care that much and knew that much. I laughed - cruelly and bitterly at him, brain-dead him and left the table, without leaving a trace of my existence.

I may look different now... I may feel things, perceive things in a different way now... To make it simple I may not be the same girl I used to, once upon a time. But i, I remember...

I remember how hurtful it was to be laughed at because you are a plus-size chick, living among these sickly thin people - I still am FAT - in your very definition of Fatness. If I throw to u the i-don't-give-a-damn-if-you-think-I-am-fat attitude, it does not mean: I am not aware that you are rude. Just that your remark cannot hurt me like before.

They can change a girl's body shape - even in the most desperate method i.e. plastic surgery - I have NOTHING against it. But bloody hell, why can't they freaking understand that there is nothing they can do to de-stupid-ize a brain dead girl with perfect body? They can't replace her heart either - for a kind heart cannot be bought and shove into that perfect body they desire.

So I watch friend after friend going for body instead of soul... Ended up complaining to me their unlucky love life - well... well, well, well... they don't but i, i remember...

I remember their choice of partners, with much compromise of "buts" and "ifs" ... Since you treat it as a bargain, this is as much life can give to you... seriously why is there a need to torture yourself and make alibi for why he is NOT freaking there when you need him the most, why he could not say anything decent - or anything at all while you are sobbing uncontrollably? Is it a crime, for him to be himself and not the "him" you assume he is?

Being single is seriously not that bad, even in winter when people complain they need bodies to hug, to be hugged - I wonder where goes the need of clothes and scarf.

Instead of getting myself anyhow a boyfriend for the sake of being "warmed" this Christmas eve, I got myself a Zara basic, navy blue long coat, chick and class.

and I am good, sipping hot chocolate in my room, reading a few poems by Margaret Atwood

p/s: watch out Hanoi, I am learning to drive this afternoon. My dad is proud, mom rolls her eyes, complaining: "first bicycle, then motorbike and scooter, now CAR... when will you buy her a TRUCK or a TANK?" Dad and I sharing a tiny wink, thinking more or less of boat or plane rather than tank,we swear,but well,not to shock mom yet... say we are good with car. I am so excited