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criedmeout
| Main blog: | criedmeout | | Birthday: | July 15th | | Gender: | Female | | Occupation: | Student | | Education: | Graduate degree | | Religion: | Not religious | | Race/lineage: | Asian | | Location: | United Kingdom |
| Height: | 5' 2" (157 cm) | | Eyes: | Dark Brown | | Vision: | Contact lenses | | Clothing Pref.: | Nude | | Tattoo Info: | 1 - only a rare few have ever been privileged to view it. | | Piercing Info: | A pair on my ears. I bear the scars of 5 others scattered thereabouts. |
| Relationship Status: | Single - Never Married | | Family Info: | At home HOME: Mom, Dad, brother, 2 dogs, 1 turtle (MIA since 1998 - come back!!), 10-20 japanese carp (my mother keeps replenishing them when they die), and a million and one goldfish and fighting fish. Fish is considered lucky in a Chinese household.. I think.
At MY home: just me. | | Sexual Preference: | Never at dusk | | Astrological Sign: | Cancer (June 22 - July 22) | | Existing as: | Changeling | | Smoking: | Quit | | Liquor: | Social drinker. One or two | | Exercise: | Regularly | | Your Home: | Live alone | | Biography/About: | A cynical idealist who dreams of romance and dirty sex in a capitalist world full of pure souls. | | Likes: | sexy sportscars. good conversation. gourmet food. lazy weekends in bed. cynicism. trawling through the bargains on market day. debating. sweaty sex on top of warm sheets on a cool winter's night. dancing. mint chocolate chip ice cream. watching a good movie. long warm yummy smelling bubble baths. floral scents. reading. naivete&innocence. | | Dislikes: | unfounded arrogance (back that shit up foo'). long queues. being stuck underneath someone's sweaty armpit on the underground during the 5pm rush hour. lies. an empty fridge. tired eyes. cold feet. stupidity. being stuck in traffic. a dirty home - no shoes in the house!. flighty frivolosity. an empty stomach. loneliness. |
| People/Heroes: | Freud, Oscar Wilde, Shakespeare, Webster, Audrey Hepburn, Mata Hari, Nietzsche | | Books: | Count of Monte Cristo, Vita Brevis, The Symposium, Vanity Fair, Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Picture of Dorian Grey, Harry Potter, fantasy novels, usually involving magic (oh yes, I'm a geek and proud of it!) | | Authors: | Oscar Wilde, William Shakespeare, John Webster, Friedrich Nietzsche, Juvenal, Charles Dickens, Christopher Marlowe, Lord Rochester, Jonathan Swift, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Edith Wharton | | Music Genres: | Classical, Opera, Musicals, Oldies, Soft Rock, R&B, Hip Hop | | Bands/Artists: | Sarah Brightman, Hayley Westenra, Tchaikovsky, Mozart, Chopin, Beethoven | | Albums/CDs: | Phantom of the Opera OST, Les Miserables OST | | TV Shows: | CSI, Law&Order, Without A Trace, Will&Grace, Friends, Even Stevens, Simpsons, Family Guy, Malcolm in the Middle, Seinfeld, Nip/Tuck, Scrubs, Sex&the City | | Movies: | Frida, Dangerous Liasons, The Age of Innocence, City of God, Man of the Year, While You Were Sleeping | | Actors: | Sean Connery, Anthony Hopkins, Nicholas Cage, Johnny Depp, Morgan Freeman, Clive Owen, Brad Pitt, Susan Sarandon, Nicole Kidman, Hilary Swank, Michelle Pfeiffer, Cate Blanchett, Gwyneth Paltrow, Natalie Portman | | Cars/Motorcyles: | Aston Martin Vanquish *sighs* |
Who the fuck cares?
Americans place far too much emphasis on weight. The British on the other hand, worry too much about what dress size they are.
Who the fuck cares how much you weigh, or what clothes size you wear, as long as you look good doing it? I'll never understand that. And I'll never understand double standards - the bane of my fucking life.
Fuck you.
To sleep perchance to dream.. Ay there's the rub.
I'm... confused. Slightly troubled, and yet.. content.
I have never felt such at peace and at the same time, so turbulent in such a long while.
Double double toil and trouble.. Fire burn and cauldron bubble..
Doctors and IVys.
So many resolutions. So many good intentions..
If I can help it, I'm never undergoing surgery. Ever. Again. Fucking doctors. Why do they always lie? "Oh this won't hurt a bit." "You'll only suffer minor discomfort, you should be fine and fit for work after the weekend."
Bullshit.
I hate needles. I always said in jest that was a good thing - at least it meant that my aversion to needles would keep me from ever shooting myself up. But when I have no choice... *shudders* I still remember how it felt when the anaesthesist stuck the IV in my hand. Oh. My. God. That hurt like a muthafucka. And...
My Worst Nightmare Come True.
I just realised I've turned into my mother.
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