26

Found lying in my unposted archives. I can't believe I was 26 when I wrote this. I'm now halfway to 28! To say time flies would be a gross understatement of how fast it moves and how long I have apparently neglected my blog.

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What is this nonsense?! This is not a food post! Yes, I know, non-existent warden of my kinda-food-blog, but it is the nearing the end of the year, which means I'm getting nostalgic, reflective, and downright sappy about life, because in a few weeks, it'll be a WHOLE NEW YEAR. AND it'll be my birthday. AND next year I'll be married (and I've heard that one must be an adult to do that, so therefore I must be an adult now). AND I just read a book called Dear Me: A Letter To My Sixteen Year Old Self, although I am quite a religious reader of fiction only, and it made me think about what I was like at 16, which I then realised is a mind-boggling TEN YEARS AGO. And the combination of the nostalgia and the holy-shit-ten-years-ago?! manifested itself in... a rambling letter to my 16 year old self (what up 16 year old me). Hopefully in ten years 36 year old me (what up to you too) will write a letter to 26 year old me (cannot what up you, because you are me now).

Dear Sixteen Year Old Iman,

I remember what it was like to be you. You're awkward, worried, geeky and unconfident. You desperately want to get out of Brunei. You are constantly disappointed with yourself. You have major insecurity issues. You know you want something better and bigger and more significant, but you can't articulate what it is that you want. When 26 year old Iman remembers what it was like to be 16 year old Iman, she feels like crying, and let me tell you, at 26, you don't turn on the waterworks on very often at all (except for really important things, like Disney cartoons). The good news is: it gets better! The bad news is: not something I want to tell you, because you need to go through it, and sometimes ignorance is bliss. The bad news I WILL share: the next few years will be Arsenal's best, I don't know what happened after that (metaphorically speaking, because obviously I DO know what happens), so enjoy it while you can.

Other things you should know:

- I don't know when it happens, because I didn't realize, but: your acne-plagued skin, will, one day, no longer be acne-plagued. Your hair will, one day, no longer look like it is equal parts mortal enemy of conditioner and product of electric shock therapy. You will always dislike your nose (we did not get a nose job like you wanted), but you will, one day, stop giving a shit what people think about it. You will, one day, be considered conventionally attractive, even though your first instinct will always be to think the person saying that is fucking with you. And if they were, 26 year old Iman would actually (and has been known to) cuss out or flip off someone who WOULD fuck with her, which she is way more proud of than being thought of as conventionally attractive.

- You can do way better than the people you are dating right now. I AM SO TOTALLY NOT JOKING ABOUT THIS. Please dump you-know-who right now. (Don't worry, he will get over it, and also, he never will start that band and become a rock star, so no loss. In case you were wondering, although I know you aren't.)

- You will have your heart broken, and it will suck. But you will get over it with much less pain and grief than break-up songs will have you imagine, and after a few years, you'll actually struggle to remember what the hell it felt like, because all you can remember is that you must have felt some sort of emotion at the time, because last you checked you aren't a robot, but now, you feel nothing. (Nothing is good.)

- Your siblings will grow up, your parents will age. It will happen so fast. Kiss Ali as much as you can, because he is/was hands down the most adorable baby in the world, but he won't be a baby for long.

- Learn to become a feminist, it will be the best thing you can do for yourself.

- Don't feel bad about being one of the few kids at school who doesn't have a Nokia cell phone. In 10 years, these fruit companies will invent smartphones that will make Nokias look like those brick handphones Umi used to have in the 80s.

- You still won't have it all figured out at twenty-six. Maybe no one ever does figure anything out. (Am still waiting for a letter from 96 year old Iman to confirm or deny this.) But life is good, and too fleeting to spend too much time or effort trying to map things out.

- Keep re-reading The Hitchhikers' Guide to the Galaxy at sporadic intervals, because, one day, that will be how you first bond with the man who will become your husband. (I still can't believe it either.)

My Life in Lists

About weddings:
 
Number of days until I become a married woman: 169
 
Number of times I have freaked out about the impending end of my singlehood: None. Strangely or thankfully, hitching my anchor to Alman's boat (or something like that, I'm not a nautical person) is probably the easiest part about getting married.
 
Number of times I have freaked out about wedding planning: Mutiple. I feel like popular TV and rom coms have instilled in me a false sense of expectancy about how much drama I should be feeling. Like shouldn't I be all Bridezilla, alternating between weeping over mismatched tablecloths, vengefully sending out invitations to my douchebag exes (I have a lot. Of exes, and also douchebag exes), sneakily comparing notes and sabotaging my childhood friend's wedding that is planned for the weekend before mine (this is actually happening! The childhood friend's wedding, I mean, not the sabotage)? Oh wait, there hasn't been any drama yet because I haven't sorted out my invitations and tablecloths yet. For now I mostly just panic about not having enough shit done and worrying that my wedding will be too sappy.
 
Number of dresses I have: 3, and they are all gorgeous.
 
Number of venues I've booked: 2 out of 3, and therein lies one of the sources of my panic attacks.
 
Number of minutes in a day I think about how to do my hair in these gorgeous dresses: Too much. My employers would weep if they knew.
 
Things I am secretly hoping will happen on my wedding day(s):
1. Someone will give me a kitten as a wedding present (a girl can dream)
2. I become, overnight, gloriously photogenic and my wedding photos all look fantastic (I tend to freeze in front of cameras and either grin too widely or make ugly faces, it's a disease)
3. Alman cries (with happiness, I mean. On the inside doesn't count. We want to see emotional happy tears, dammit!)

Random things I like:
My new Miu Miu bow bag
I could stroke it all day. I won't, because that would look creepy, but I COULD, because it is gorgeous chocolate brown leather. When I put it on my desk at work I can sometimes catch whiffs of the leather smell as I work. It reminds me why I work the hours I do. (I will be less materialistic when I have a kitten.)

A Song of Ice and Fire by George R. R. Martin
Holy shit, was I obsessed. I bulldozed my way through the five books in three months while watching Season 2 of the series, and am now waiting impatiently for Book 6, which is coming in... a few years. Shoot me, Georgie, this is torture. At least I have all the fan boards online to discuss conspiracy theories and trade George R.R. Martin-isms with. After reading five books in a row, you can't help but notice his favourite phrases: What is this mummer's farce? I must needs drink my Dornish red wine, it is known (but also you know nothing, Jon Snow).

Discworld by Terry Pratchett
So I tired of it for a while (reading 28 Discworld books almost consecutively can do that to you, apparently) but I am now back and on track and set to finish this series before 2013 rolls around. I find it totally amazing how fictional characters populating an imaginary flat world carried by four giant elephants standing on the back of a giant turtle floating through space can be richer and more colourful than some PEOPLE I meet in real life. Reality fail.

Online shopping
Etsy! Fashion Valet! ASOS! (Not Net-a-porter yet though - that's a whole different price range that my online self fears to venture into because if things don't fit me and I've spent that much money on it, I think I'd cry.) Nothing beats working late at night and taking a 5 minute break to window shop without even moving your ass from your swivel chair! Okay so it's sometimes a 20 minute break. Okay and it's not window shopping, its actual shopping.

Random things I don't like:

My stupid oven which keeps switching itself off. I've taken to just standing there by the switchbox thing, broom in hand, just daring the flip thing to switch itself off. And then it does, and then I use the broom to switch it back on and then commences a flip war. Which I am fighting... with an inanimate switchbox. I really hate my oven I tell you. Just to spite it, these are the brown butter oatmeal chocolate chip cookies I made with Yan, NOT with my oven. This was using Yan's nicely behaved oven.

People who come around behind my desk and peer at my laptop. If you're not my boss, you're not allowed to do this. I mean I can't really disallow from doing it per se, but I sure can bitch about you after.

Sleeping with my eyelash extensions. I miss being able to wear a sleeping mask or being able to squash my face into Alman's neck (it looks less weird than it sounds). Damn you eyelash extensions! I know I can't quit you because I am super lazy and not having to wear and remove mascara has probably freed up 15 minutes of my day every day.

 

I really need to get back to work.