Arnaud on Skype yesterday morning, in the aftermath of my extremely mopey face (with tears and all) on Skype the night before: "I Googled how to make long-distance relationships work."
I've probably mentioned to death already how I thought he was absolutely adorable after I finally realised that he liked me. Despite mentioning that to death already, I have to mention it again because the minute he said that, my insides more or less melted into a pathetic, useless puddle.
In an effort to cheer me up when I was all morose and PMS-y, he said, "Hey, you can make a list of all the things that irritate you when I stay over in your flat, and you can look at this list whenever you miss me and appreciate the peace during this period." Prior to this I barely laughed or strung two complete sentences together; even smiling was a bit of a chore. After he said this, I surprised myself by laughing and actually meaning it.
For the record, the irritating habits that he referred to include, but are not limited to, wearing his shoes in my flat; leaving his wet towel on my bed; attempting to eat on my bed which freaked me the hell out; playing his awful electronic whatever "music" on his laptop and polluting my flat with noise; after showering, failing to dry himself properly before plonking himself back onto my bed; and the last one...let's just say that the matter is too indelicate for public disclosure and leave it at that.
On second thought, his suggestion, facetious as it was, doesn't really help, because after he annoys me by doing one or more of the above, we will eventually go to bed for the night and I will maybe fall asleep with his arms around me, and more or less definitely wake up with him hugging me close to him. Having to gawk in horror when he tries to eat on my bed or drink something other than water on my bed seems like a pretty good trade-off for what I now consider the luxury of having him next to me.
I kind of hate Bangkok right now.
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I love how there are roadworks happening right now and it's 2.29am. Because, you know, no one lives along Edgware Road and actually needs to sleep at night.
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My parents asked me on Sunday if I knew the rest of my results. I thought that was pretty hilarious for two reasons:
1. Who releases results over the weekend?
2. They should know by now that I will call them to freak out (both good and bad) the second I get my results; so the fact that they didn't get a call from me on our landline or on my mom's mobile means that there is no news.
In all seriousness, I really wonder how the hell I'm going to handle myself if/when it turns out that I really did miss an overall Distinction by half a unit. That would be the worst possible time to be family-less, boyfriend-less and close friend-less in London. No family to cry to; no boyfriend to console me; no best friend to take me out to coffee and take my mind off things; just very tempting Tube tracks, heavy traffic along Edgware Road, and what would probably be a very inviting River Thames.
I guess the obvious solution is to brace myself for what is probably gonna be the inevitable by expecting the worst, so that I'm not too crushed when it actually happens. But there is a certain cruelty in this, in their keeping me in the dark by withholding the results of my last two modules, because if everything had been released at one go and I knew straight away the final result, at least I wouldn't be put through this torture of harbouring actual hope that I didn't work for nothing. But now - but now, I know how close I am to getting what I worked my fucking ass off for the past year, the ONLY thing that I cared about, the ONLY thing that I wanted; and if/when it turns out that I missed it by the narrowest of margins (perhaps by two marks, thanks to Kai), that would be a lot, a lot more soul-crushing and heart-breaking than having my dream shattered immediately.
I still can't believe that I got distinctions in International Human Rights and International Law and the Use of Force. I actually gave up on the latter because it irritated me so much and I really didn't give a shit at the end, so I was ready to settle for a merit. And the former - what the flying fuck? There's just no way that I didn't fail that horrible question on antecedents or whatever that I read absolutely nothing for, and since my UN Charter/Treaty bodies whatever answer wasn't that fantastic either, the only way that I fluked the 71 is by...I don't even know. Maybe I got a 90 on my torture/counter-terrorism question. Ha, ha, ha.
Above all else: I still can't believe that Kai only gave me a merit. Fuck, I can't even think about it without feeling devastated all over again.
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Lastly, Britney's new song (Work Bitch) is so awful and I love it.
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