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7.45AM: Wake up, brush teeth, microwave some oats with blueberries. Couldn't finish it due to overwhelmingly gooey texture that reminded me of vomit.

10AM: Falling asleep in class. Head on table-, drifting off to dreamland-type sleep. Only wake up when prof says "If you've been asleep in all my lectures, this is the time to wake up because it's ENTIRELY relevant to your coursework!" Wake up in time for 5 minute break to grab a large Americano.

12PM: Stomach sort of grumbles. Intense Mandarin lesson. 

1.13PM: Can feel acid attacking walls of stomach. Prompt another less insane friend to eat lunch. Grab salad, juice and banana.

1.20PM: "WHAT IS THAT?! JUICE? BANANA? FETA CHEESE ON YOUR SALAD? That's NOT what the diet says! Only nuts and soy milk for lunch!" Run to a corner to eat salad (sans dressing) in secret.

2PM: Start doing MATLAB. Am a little distracted by Ksubi jeans. This spurs me on a bit.

2.47PM: "V__, I'M HUNGRY!"
"SHUT UP. Stop saying that."

2.48PM: Contemplate biting own finger to eschew hunger.

4.01PM: We grab Diet Cokes as they are "ok" according to the diet. This is utter rubbish, as most people would know. Diet Coke has always inherently been abused by people who cannot stomach the guilt of drinking fat Coke or anything sweet, for that matter. Feel like a Mars Bar? Grab a Diet Coke. Stressed much? Reach for another. Most of us girls wilfully ignore the blatant fact that aspartame is 200 times sweeter than actual sugar and drink the carcinogenic fluid anyway.

4.30PM: Feel a bit ill after having chugged down 500ml of Diet Coke so quickly.

5.10PM: Code works! Hurray. Give banana away. Make own way home. Fucking starving.

6.15PM: Spin class. As if not eating proper food the whole day wasn't painful enough.

7PM: Finish spinning. Am not feeling too hungry, actually.

8.22PM: Consume a "bowl of red and green mixed vegetables" with a side of soy milk. Only, I add some lemon and smoked salmon and throw in a piece of pita bread.

9.17PM: Feel a bit insane after having reviewed entire day. Yeah, I have problems.

Just for fun I'll throw in a photo that reminds me of when I first read The Chronicles of Narnia (at age 18, no less) and thought that this is exactly what the gaslight post at the other end of the door should have looked like the second Lucy stumbled through the wardrobe door.

So I guess after that you'd have the Mirandas of the world (I really should be shot through the head for classifying women into four categories, but I have a 3rd year project to be getting on with). Career-driven, power suited up with hair so short sometimes she'd get mistaken for a really dowdy lesbian. She's got the whole indefatigable solid iron wall in front of her emotions going because wearing hearts on sleeves is a crime, especially in the office. She'd never let a man ruin her or her career. She THINKS she knows what she wants, but she's a pretty torn up inside - showcased in the episode where she's torn between aborting Steve's baby or keeping it.

Then we have the Samanthas. Everyone likes to think they have a little bit of Samantha in them...y'know the crazy "try-sexual" and "will-put-sushi-0n-naked-body-for-Valentine's-Day" part. Samantha's pretty clear about what she wants: sex. I admire women who know this and are willing to go forth and make it known to the world, but I don't think I wasn't made like that. However, is it more complicated than that? Who knows. She's goddamned entertaining and makes the episode a lot more bearable. Nobody really cares about her anyway except for her sexual exploits and scathing remarks. Everyone cares about good ol' Carrie Bradshaw.

I don't know how many people would classify themselves as a Carrie, but I'm guessing...quite a lot? I know my whole house hates her guts because she can afford a wardrobe with 40 pairs of Manolos while subsisting on a weekly sex column in a relatively unknown newspaper. Plus, she always does that "I can't help but wonder..." 

God, I love irony. 

Anyway. 

I'd say the Carries of this world are on their own self-searching Nirvana finding path to self-actualization. I guess throughout the series, Carrie always wanted Big and her Big happy ending. Not all of us are so lucky as to have an asshole with a surprise center bumping into us every now and then (I still can't believe he dumped her at the wedding! OKOK it's just a movie) asking us out on expensive dinners and such, so it would be unjust to lump most women into this category. 

Fact is, these days it's not easy to classify what you want, not with movies like these subtly psychologically jolting you into thinking that THIS (Prada bag, big big wedding, 3 published books, DVF wrap dresses) is what you SHOULD want. Sex and the City is quite contradictory because on one hand, it purports female independence through Miranda and Samantha, yet holds on to romantic ideals via Charlotte and Carrie. Perhaps both men and women can't let go of the fact that times are changing/have changed and that you don't have to be in a relationship anymore to be cool or secure, hence this confusing myriad of movies, magazines and songs that speak about female emancipation from the shackles of men (ref: "Independent Women" by Destiny's Child) whilst also talking about "How to Blow Your Man's Mind in 10 Simple Steps" (haha whaddup). 

Well, I suppose life is indeed that complicated and that these four women are simply microcosms of urban life in 2009.  I agree. I think I am a trail mix of these four women. 

Having said all of that, no, I don't know what I want.

I'm just contemplating what I'm going to do in the next five minutes after I finish writing this. Oh ya, 3rd year project.