the beautiful side of somewhere

too soon

2008-07-26T21:26:00.000+08:00

Everything has been too soon. You having to go, too soon. Me missing you after you've gone, too soon. Us fighting over things that haven't happened, too soon. You wishing I'd call you and tell you everything's okay, too soon. Me doing those very exact things, too soon. You and I worn out from all the effort, too soon. Us missing us, too soon.

You say we are like a bad diet. I overlook the consequences of bingeing. You overlook the consequences of starving. I say hey it's better than not dieting at all.

Just before we binged, I have been working on a shelf taller than me. There is safety in not reaching, just slightly out of grasp. If it's just air you're wildly swinging at, there is nothing to break.

Maybe we got there too soon. Even if it took a year and a half.

I just hope that one day, we won't be too late.

do you wonder how I am tonight

2008-03-03T10:06:00.003+08:00

When everything has gone horribly wrong, I think I would still be okay somehow.

Because I still have this song.

***

From the Bottom of My Heart -- The Wallflowers

Fire on the porch on a summer's night
All of my things are there inside
Black smoke rise up, burn on burn higher
I smell leaves and burning tires
Dogs in the meadows barking wild
Blackbird rise up, tell me what have you done

I'm not drunk and I'm not sad
There's nothing inside that I want back
Let me touch your lips, let me see where you're at
Do you wonder how I am tonight
Then don't lose time looking in my eyes
Not every tear means you're gonna cry

From the bottom of my heart
Comes a cold dark feeling
There is nothing but dust
In the layers I'm peeling

From the bottom of my heart
Beats a rattling drum
Marching back up the steps
Into the rays of the sun

Under crushing skies of grays
Paralyzed with phantom pains
Before this room became just a place
Where I just sleep through endless days
Spinning webs and carving names
Where thoughts break up, exploding in space

But I once crossed a quarter mile
Through black pools of razor wire
And cut through the steel
with the edge of a file
While singing rhapsodies in stride
Hellbent and dignified
Now my time has come
Who you fooling and why?

From the bottom of my heart
Comes a cold dark feeling
There is eminent death
to the promise I'm keeping

From the bottom of my heart
Comes an army of one
Marching back up the steps
Into the rays of the sun

Pale-faces and hollowed eyes
Buried under ruptured skies
Not every smile
means I'm laughing inside
Two-face and compromised
I've enraptured you with lies
Everything means nothings
and tonight everything is mine

From the bottom of my heart
Comes a cold dark feeling
I have buried so much
In the layers I'm peeling

From the bottom of my heart
A battle will come
Marching back up the steps
Into the rays of the sun

From the bottom of my heart
Comes a cold dark feeling
Wrapped around tight
With no sign of leaving

From the bottom of my heart
A ballad is sung
Through a whisper she comes
Into the rays of the sun

axe

2008-01-25T11:13:00.001+08:00

it hangs above
and over our heads
like a cloud
or an axe
we wait
for gravity
to do what it should've done

the curse of expectations

2008-01-25T11:05:00.000+08:00

Life is easier to get through when you give yourself a lower set of expectation. My expectation of things has become quite high lately, this resulting in life becoming more complex than it necessarily has to be. It is easier when you expect nothing out of people. Whatever they give you is an unexpected gift, you will appreciate and cherish.

Expectations go up when they are usually met. Is this the crux of the problem? I should've aimed low, and never be dissapointed. But aim low enough and there's bound to be someone who can meet you there. Then you start to raise your bar, raise your price, raise your voice. Lately this is what I have become. Someone who's close to shouting. Someone in the edge of screaming because her expectations aren't met.

I need to tell myself it is okay to be quiet.

What I need is to recalibrate. I pretend to misread and recelebrate instead.

ee pee ell

2007-10-20T12:50:00.001+08:00

Malam ini aku mungkin akan bermain bola padang. Buat pertama kalinya.

Fifi cakap penalty box tu je dah nak sama besar dengan satu futsal pitch.

Ah bagaimanakah untuk tidak offside! Sangat tidak reti.

I must think like Steven Gerrard.

nike and me

2007-10-18T21:45:00.000+08:00

I went for a run/jog/trot/slowcrawlingwalk earlier. Now my body is reeling from the amazement at how much pain it's in. Every move is accentuated with great drama. I haven't been running for quite a while, puasa month and all, but it is surprising how much shock it's in now from the exertion.

Running is great, but it's the walking after that I look forward to. Just me and my iPod, and a million thoughts, lined up like candies, waiting to be sorted out. This year I've been Nike's most fervent endorser. Just Do It (TM). Just do, do, and do. Don't stop and think because who knows where that might lead you. No, actually, you know where it will lead you but you don't want to go there.

Now there is time to think. No, time has always been available, but the want was not. It's the thinking that will do you in, I used to say to people. I believe this, before and now, still.

So I'm still not thinking. Because thoughts are only necessary if there is something that needs solving.

Things are solved. What is required of me now isn't thinking, but making peace with the solution.

what's right about leaving the left

2007-10-18T14:22:00.000+08:00

I have left this place for a long time. What I left was a state of mind, a state I wanted to be foreign to. I keep saying, you are what you're used to. When I started to leave I was unused to certain things, like leaving a leash you're somewhat fond of. A leash that kept things familiar. But I left and started to get used to leaving. I started to get used to the things opposite. Everything is about this, it seems, what you're used to. What you're used to. I like repeating this. To get used to it.

After I left there were a lot of things that I have come to get used to. The things opposite. I became the citizen of the other state of mind. The roots are similar but the nuances are sparkingly different. You can only tell this when you're in transition. What is similar and what is different. Once you've gotten used to things, everything becomes similar to what you are. This is the curse of citizenship.

At this juncture the smart thing to do is choose, pick the similars and differents, the ones I want to live with. The ones I can bear to live with.

I am in transition. There will be a lot of metaphors about passports. Haha.

menunggu pagi -- peterpan

2006-01-03T12:56:00.000+08:00

I write about things that don't matter. Throw all of this, and what belongs to the next person, and see if the world tips. What if the world is a fucking big waiter. We tip hoping she would wait for us. A little longer. But she doesn't, she's waiting for the crash, she's waiting for that acting job. Entire world's a stage, we're just waiters. What if nothing makes sense, relativity is just a short piece of yarn. Absurd and inadequate. What if everything matters, then how can you test anyone. Variables are good at varying. How could you change your mind now, when nothing is in place. Yet. Let me stay here for a while. One of these days I will figure things out. One of these days I will build a stadium, a wheel, a stage. One of these days I'll be the person you thought you knew.

the plumber

2005-11-23T19:23:00.000+08:00

This is a short story I wrote few weeks back after sending a good friend to the bus station. It is written equal parts real imaginations, imagined realities. To be continued when I can find the time, or the inspiration, or the energy.

*****

She sends him away, like a pack of dogs, like a pack of cards. The bus waits patiently, like a patient. Its humming reverbrates against the gravel, rattling someone’s nerves.

“Take care, I will see you soon.” He says, while unloading his luggage from the backseat of her car.

“You too, and thanks for dinner.” She says, checking her rearview mirror.

It has always been like this between them. Staccato sentences, speaking in duals. There are moments that leap out of the ordinary, when she thinks she could hold his hand, and ask him to marry her there and then, given the right situation, given the right givens.

But most of the time they speak like this. Disjointed. In fragments.

He stands outside the car, waving a little wave. She wonders if he’s always wanted something more out of all this, if she’s always wanted something more.

She always wanted something more. It’s just that she’s not sure more of what exactly.

“Call me when you get there, have a safe trip.” She shifts into reverse gear.

“I will, do not worry.” He takes a step back.

She drives away, glancing at her rearview mirror. The bus hums a little more louder.

***

While driving she switches on the CD player, Bruce Springsteen on the deck. It makes her a little wistful, a little misty. Springsteen does that to her, that gravel road of a voice of his, that blue collar machismo. If I could ever marry someone it would be Bruce, she thinks to her own thoughts. He will work in construction, stacking like he don’t remember, I will act like I don’t care. She adores the way he adores a girl in each song. Like a swan, like a song, like a bridge, a river, gone horribly wrong.

At the red traffic light the mind wanders a lot. What if he is all the things she’s been looking for. What if she’s been missing out, out of misapprehension, out of miscomprehension. She always feels like she’s been misinterpreting a lot of things lately, like a bad dictionary. What if she has been reading everything out of context, what if, what if.

What would it be like, reading everything in of context, then?

What an unfamiliar concept!

***

He shifts in his seat a little, feeling a little forced into a shape, like a big, clunky, squarish L. He could’ve afforded a flight, if he wanted to, but the quickness of journey isn’t what he is after. He loves distance, and the stretchy illusion it proffers. He feels when he is someplace else he is always excused. Geography makes people more forgiving, he figures. The further you are.

There are two girls in the seats behind him, chattering somewhat whisperishly. Out of slight curiosity he closes his eyes, stretches his legs a little, and eavesdrops.

“When I grow up I want to be like her.” Says one.

“Yeah it would be so rad to have a job like that, Lonely Planet show host. Imagine all the places you get to go!” Says the other.

“But I probably would refuse to eat all the gross stuff. Euu.” Then she makes a half-choking sound.

“Fried rats! Can you imagine!”

He smiles to himself. He figures he would’ve stayed away from fried rats too. He wonders what else would he stay away from. A fried raccoon would’ve been doubly disturbing, he thinks.

She comes to mind, like an invited plumber.

The further you are.

******

to be continued.

under my skin -- rachel yamagata

2005-11-11T10:14:00.000+08:00

You keep saying you don't know what you want. I argue like a politician: this is what you want, you just don't know it yet. But even a politician, a politician especially, sometimes doesn't know what she's fighting for. Sometimes I think I love you like a cause. Save the trees, and make trade fair. I fight like there's still tomorrow. I fight like reelection's in five years' time. I fight knowing the inevitable. Trees die and people lie. I bid my time. I pace myself. I hold babies and smile for the cameras, when necessary. But in my hesitant nights I am busy scheming plans. Save the trees and make trade fair. You are the cause I choose to fight for. Losing you, losing you, would mean the end of my short career.

di suaaasanaa haari rayaaa

2005-10-31T14:33:00.000+08:00

Selamat Hari Raya to all.

Play nice on the road, kids.

shadowboxer -- fiona apple

2005-10-26T09:59:00.000+08:00

hey gorgeous
just stay behind that line
don't make me come over
and make you wish you wished
oh you wish you wish you wish
you didn't know me too well

*****

i am a bleeding magnet
repelling is my gift
funny patterns on paper
party tricks and chicks
i attract metal
is it a cosmic curse
that they can't do the same
unless rubbed vigorously

*****

hold the trigger tiger

i know -- fiona apple

2005-10-25T11:55:00.000+08:00

The moment you think this is all there is, something else waltzes along, like a swan, like a snake. Temptation runs regularly, like good plumbing. What do I do, what do I do with this one. Temptation is not to be ignored, that would be the most careless sin. I am tempted to ignore this, though. That seems like something that I've never done before. Just let this one pass, let this one pass, like a bridge.

*****

The moment you think you'll manage, something else gets rebuilt. It's another town, another city, another cab.

but here's the thing

2005-10-17T09:00:00.000+08:00

The wizard told me to wait before I leap. There's no point in looking, you'll never see it, he said. Steal glances from the corner of your eye, that's how you catch glimpses into the real, sur. Never look at things, straight in the eye. Yours or theirs. That's how you get burned. Because for those who've seen too much, there is no way to un-know. It will follow you like a scent, knowing. The best you can do is forget, forget, foregone.

******

Once you've forgotten, what is left, you wonder. Is this what you really want?

******

Sometimes you go through life thinking no one understands. Sometimes this is true. The other times, even truer. There is bland loneliness in cliches. You go through life looking for someone who understands. Simply caring is never enough. You want a broody rockstar, you want a tortured writer, you want someone who makes it her business to join words and turn them into some other meaningless business. You want someone who will break your heart, because what good is any of it if it's unbreakable. You seek pleasure from dismantling parts, and leaving the mess for someone else to fix, someone else to blame.

In being alone you break yourself. And derive sick pleasure from it.

This is what I am. What I have turned into.

If you can convince me that this is a bad thing, you will have me forever.

mungkin nanti -- peterpan (oh ariel)

2005-10-06T07:48:00.000+08:00

You see me sitting there
And you wonder if it's you I'm thinking about
There are few things on my mind
That you should know
Fewer that you shouldn't
It is hard to write when you're not lonely
So here am I trying to write something
For no one.

how to be dead - snow patrol

2005-10-05T07:39:00.000+08:00

The greatest thing about being dead inside is, when dealt with the expected blow (another great thing when you’re dead inside, everything is already expected, you have the gift, the curse, of premonition), you really, at the super deep core level, feel, nothing. It is hard to feel, when the element of surprise is no longer there. How can you really, actually, honestly feel, what you’ve already felt before? Emotions, swirly things, they’re not like triplicate forms. They’re more like, used band-aids. Peel strip snatch. Feel snip stretch. Whatever you’re feeling now, you haven’t experienced it before. Everything is once off, you’re off the hook, you’re the worm inside the bait.

Wait, wait, you think, surely some experiences repeat themselves, like candy mistakes? Something sweet gone terribly misshapen, like a Dali. Malformed butterscotch lines, a hesitant peppermint strays from the assembly line. Everything is out of place. You write to straighten things out, but nothing gets said. You have a gelatinous blob of ego around your heart, masquerading as the real McCoy. The other McCoy is out for groceries, that’s what she said six months ago. Sometimes you think the only thing keeping you safe is elasticity. You wonder who needs wood. You love your ego too much, that’s the only way you know what a bruise is. You don’t know anyone else named Bruce, except a couple of actors. You grow to love to watch things turn purple. Like a blueberry swirl. Just another candy mistake.

It’s like living in reruns. You begin to wonder if you will get paid in royalties.

trilogy

2005-09-10T17:26:00.000+08:00

Sometimes you render me a little hopeless
Like a spineless doll
Pinocchio learning some new lies
I make things up as we go
Most of them are true, really
I know you don't trust me
But we can all live in half-greys
And hushed tones
Whenever necessary
Like water and lilies
Poetry is hardly a necessity
Like this one
Throw it outta the window
And see if I'll love you less.

*******

Sometimes I just write
with nothing to write about
like this
and words flow
fire hydrant to a mouth of a teacup
everything spills over
nothing ever stays
nothing means anything

*******

you think i have deep, dark secrets
a sick dragon wrestles itself underground
how else do you explain the tremors
when the icy ground gets shaky
do you worry if it's thin enough
for the dragon to come out to play

cut-leries

2005-08-18T11:44:00.000+08:00

Trying to ignore you from the pressing urges of my own conjuring, is no big feat. I can do it with my eyes open. I just need to keep the cracks intact where they are, so it hurts just enough to remind, but never to paralyze. This shall remain what it is. Don't let me get carried away and transform it into something else. The kite has flown, the string unfurled to its end, the spool is tired. We've ran to the end of the field, we've ran out of distance, we've ran out of substantial things to say. Everything is a joke, nothing ever was. Your choice. I can live with either. I am a spoon inside a box. Shiny and mysterious. You are a knife on a revenge plate. Best served cold.

*******

When I tell this story again, let me paint you as the bad guy. The one who started it all, the one with the strings, the one with scissors. When I tell this story again, let them hear that everything was your fault. Mine was only that I did nothing to stop it. You were the half-built bridge. I was the speeding train. When I blame you my excuse will be lack of awareness. I didn't see it coming. You didn't see a reason for warning. I sped like a hesitant bullet, I couldn't slow down in time. I shall blame you for the lousy brakes too. Scissors fall like rain. Is there a more blinding sight?

foreign affairs

2005-08-09T11:42:00.000+08:00

I haven't written anything of substance lately. This repulsion to writing, is not out of hate, or boredom, or being careful, but do you think there's a worse thing than indifference. It is hard to get all riled up over indifference, there's no balance to upset, there's no equilibrium to achieve. Everything just plateaued on the surface of a ball.

But you said something last night that made me think, maybe this state of mind isn't so great. I'm no longer on the land of dreams. There are no promises to make, or keep. I can say a million things and mean none of it. You can keep pretending that you don't listen, I'll pretend that I'm hurt. None of us will ever go anywhere. None of us will leave. I left my passport on the fridge. You want a new photo for yours.

But I don't think I want to stay here that long. This state is beginning to lose its quirky charm. The locals are beginning to sound foreign.

Sometimes I want to read your mind. Who are you thinking of, and for how long. I don't mind the luggage, really. The only ones who travel light are the ones who've been robbed. They've learnt the art of letting go, but not by will. They learn to forget. So when someone else tries to read their minds, there isn't much to hide.

Sometimes you push me off the ledge, a little. But tiptoeing is a skill I've mastered like no other. I regain my balance like a box. Nothing has changed.

pulao perhentian

2005-07-27T11:41:00.000+08:00

pulao perhentian
Originally uploaded by jeanscott.

Just got back from way-too-deserved holiday.

rebel, sweetheart

2005-07-19T09:03:00.000+08:00

I heart you, Jakob Dylan.

From the Bottom of My Heart -- The Wallflowers

Fire on the porch on a summer's night
All of my things are there inside
Black smoke rise up, burn on burn higher
I smell leaves and burning tires
Dogs in the meadows barking wild
Blackbird rise up, tell me what have you done

I'm not drunk and I'm not sad
There's nothing inside that I want back
Let me touch your lips, let me see where you're at
Do you wonder how I am tonight
Then don't lose time looking in my eyes
Not every tear means you're gonna cry

From the bottom of my heart
Comes a cold dark feeling
There is nothing but dust
In the layers I'm peeling

From the bottom of my heart
Beats a rattling drum
Marching back up the steps
Into the rays of the sun

Under crushing skies of grays
Paralyzed with phantom pains
Before this room became just a place
Where I just sleep through endless days
Spinning webs and carving names
Where thoughts break up, exploding in space

But I once crossed a quarter mile
Through black pools of razor wire
And cut through the steel
with the edge of a file
While singing rhaphsodies in stride
Hellbent and dignified
Now my time has come
Who you fooling and why?

From the bottom of my heart
Comes a cold dark feeling
There is eminent death
to the promise I'm keeping

From the bottom of my heart
Comes an army of one
Marching back up the steps
Into the rays of the sun

Pale-faces and hollowed eyes
Buried under ruptured skies
Not every smile
means I'm laughing inside
Two-face and compromised
I've enraptured you with lies
Everything means nothings
and tonight everything is mine

From the bottom of my heart
Comes a cold dark feeling
I have buried so much
In the layers I'm peeling

From the bottom of my heart
A battle will come
Marching back up the steps
Into the rays of the sun

From the bottom of my heart
Comes a cold dark feeling
Wrapped around tight
With no sign of leaving

From the bottom of my heart
A ballad is sung
Through a whisper she comes
Into the rays of the sun

surprisseee

2005-07-14T16:03:00.000+08:00

Last night you gave me a surprise introduction to someone I haven't seen for a long time. Myself. Or actually, the parts of me I've been trying so hard to unknow.

I'm not sure I liked that.

But you did, I hope.

klue starbucks acoustic - the curve

2005-06-29T16:08:00.000+08:00

klue starbucks acoustic - the curve
Originally uploaded by jeanscott.

What would I give to be a rockstar...

an imaginary conversation

2005-06-28T09:05:00.000+08:00

You: So, why do you like me?

Me: You make me feel normal. I mean, you remind me of how things were when I was more, hmm, idealistic about things. When I was more naive and hopeful.

You: So that's what you think normalcy should be? I thought ideals aren't your strong suit. You're the kind who's willing to live between the in-betweens. That's what I like about you. Your ability to float.

Me: I'm still willing to live between the in-betweens. In-between now and the next moment. It's just that the idea of some kind of permanency gets me a bit nostalgic at times.

You: So is that all I am to you? Some current piece of nostalgia?

Me: Is that such a bad thing? What if I tell you I was a better person before?

You: I can't love a ghost.

Me: Yeah. But you can like her enough, can you?

for so long i thought i was asylum bound

2005-06-27T09:46:00.000+08:00

Oh man so sleepy so sleepy so sleepy why oh why my parents aren't obscenely rich to the point of gross unfair hateful obscenity so I don't have to spend all my precious weekdays that I could spend doing other funner things than toiling day in day out like a corporate drone that I am.

Am SO taking that leave on Friday. Have boss' wedding to attend in the evening, I'm bringing SW along as arm candy and to psyche my colleagues out (so she DOES date guys! gasp horor shock). Too bad CMG ain't coming. The fun would've multiplied by nth degree or something. During the day we plan to go to Ikea and look at furnitures, like a romantic homely couple that we are. (I need to revamp my room! And so does he.)

Found a nice kebaya-looking top at Somerset Bay yesterday that I'm gonna wear to the thing. Sort of promised SW I'll wear a dress, but unless I can find a dress that will instantly make me look like a size 4, it ain't gonna happen baby. I've never bought anything from Somerset Bay (F's clothing outlet of choice), and never thought I would (must they ALL have flowers on them??), so this is as bad as wearing a dress, I guess. I still have to go to gym everyday until Friday!

Realized I haven't written here for quite some time. Things have been busy at the office, five million things happening at once, and given my innate inborn talent when it comes to organization, I'm forgetting and procrastinating everything that I'm supposed to be doing. Is there a drug for scatter-braininess, can I have a prescription for a month please.

Also don't really feel like writing much, actually. Not that I'm heartbroken or sad or anything, just trying not to put too much weight on stuff, I guess. Travelling light.

Oh and I went to that KLUE Starbucks thing at the Curve on Saturday. Nak support Bangi band, Lucy in the Loo, heheh. Although Hana is the only Bangi person left in the band so she said they can no longer call themselves a Bandar Baru Bangi band, what a loss, I think. She can sing, although they seemed bit nervous with the acoustic set. Went up to her after the gig to say hi, introduced myself as my brother's sister (?) -- she was his classmate -- then she went, (bro's name), he doesn't talk to girls! I told her my brother's turned into such a sap these days, with his girlfriend, it's embarrassing. Congratulated her on the show, enough swooning over gaunt rock stars, I should be heading home. I had a really good time. The other bands were good too, and I'm sure I SO went to school with that guy from Sofa Sessions. World is teeming with Bangi people.

Oh and I bought a new laptop! Ok those who knew will know that this is hardly news. I have now, in my possession, the most expensive DVD player known to mankind.

mailbox

2005-06-20T12:21:00.000+08:00

MAILBOX
Originally uploaded by jeanscott.

on my grandma's staircase, just killing time...

melbourne melbourne

2005-06-13T12:42:00.000+08:00

nov17-14
Originally uploaded by jeanscott.

in St Kilda.

melbourne melbourne

2005-06-13T12:37:00.000+08:00

nov17-41
Originally uploaded by jeanscott.

Just feeling a little nostalgic. These photos were taken when I was in Melbourne.

2005-06-09T09:04:00.000+08:00

So, Box tagged me. Let's see if I can do this and not make myself sound like a complete bimbo.

How many books I own?
Uh. Looks like I'm failing miserably very early. 100, maybe? Do comic books count? 130, then? Do magazines count? Then 500!

The last book I bought?
Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joan Didion. I see you're nodding and mentally acknowledging my innate intellectualness and deep understanding of the socioeconomic climate of the 60's, but see, you haven't asked me anything about the book.

The last book I read?
Do Rolling Stone magazines count? GQ magazine with Sharleen Spiteri on the cover? No? Aih, I'm feeling very shallow these days. I keep rereading David Sedaris' stuff, mostly from Dress Up Your Family in Corduroy and Denim. He is so dry and caustic you can bleed from laughing. And they're in essay format, so it's short enough for me to stay with the story.

Five books that mean a lot to me

The Pelican Brief by John Grisham
The book that made me fell in love with John Grisham, the book that got me reading thick books in English with no pictures. I actually like A Time To Kill and The Client better, but it was the Pelican Brief (or actually, Julia Roberts as a law intern) that first reeled me in. John Grisham kinda went downhill after The Street Lawyer, though.

Who Will Run the Frog Hospital by Lorrie Moore
In fact, any books by Lorrie Moore. Because she writes like music. But this one encapsulates the tricky world that was girly teenhood and the awkward growing out of it, the surprise of non-surprising events, things one does out of loyalty and reminiscence, it is just so beautiful and haunting. I dream I can write like her.

Prozac Nation by Elizabeth Wurtzel
This is one dog-eared book I kept rereading during my first two years in Melbourne, when I was going through the most difficult time in my life. Looking back it might've not been the most ideal choice, such a downer of a read and all that, but at the time I could really see what drove some people to suicide. I saw it not as an active act that one commits, but as the most passive thing one can do, suicide, surrender, after there is nothing left to do.

Bridget Jones' Diary by Helen Fielding
V. funny!

Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim by David Sedaris
Or anything by David Sedaris also. He is just so hilarious and dry and caustic, and then he surprises you with a left hook of tenderness, right at the very last line.

Five people you want to tag
Nah.

geek love - nerina pallot

2005-06-08T12:25:00.000+08:00

Man, this song is so sexy, sometimes I smile to myself. Heheh.

Hey, you, could you give it a rest
Just take me home c'mon get me undressed
Put on the fire and make it enough
For we're geeks but we know this is love.

heaving having heavy

2005-05-26T09:26:00.000+08:00

I want you so badly. What will you give me for it.

It’s fucking hard to write when there’s nothing to feel. And you avoid thinking like a plague, like a cliché. You skitter on the surface, not sure of what to do. All your steps are gingerly, you never know which ice is solid, which ground is thin. Everything is heavy with potential. You are burdened by guilt that weighs like a brick. Not much, a single brick, but over a distance of ten deserts, it becomes very cumbersome. You want to do away with it. If another person has no need for it, then what purpose does it serve you?

run

2005-05-25T09:02:00.000+08:00

I can’t write as well as I used to. Whose fault is that, I wonder. Is it because of you, my darling muse no more, being nothing more. I cough up this sputtering gibberish, out of fear of losing my touch. I no longer fear of losing you. I no longer fear anything. Except not being able to finish this sentence, with a bang.

Departures

2005-05-24T09:14:00.000+08:00

Just sent T to the airport, she’s heading back to the foreign patch of land that is Miri. I hope the weekend trip was worth it for her. Took her out and about in town, reintroduced her to the retailing civilization that we both love, and reminisced on good old days when we were poor struggling students (now we’re just struggling corporate minions), dreaming of days when we can buy stuff and not have to adjust the entire month’s budget to it. It was good while it lasted. The mentality of making do.

Took a bit of a walk around the airport after sending T to the boarding gate. I love airports. It’s a befitting place to feel momentarily dislocated, displaced, before you move on to another place that you hope will be better. The white lighting, the clean reflective marble tiles, are like bleach, rinsing you clean for the next adventure. Everyone’s a stranger, or going to be. You will be detached from your current assignations, after that final boarding call.

It is a relieving place to feel alone, airports. I’ll take it further, it is a relieving place to feel lonely, airports. I felt a little sad walking around the check-in counters, something familiar and old tugging at my ribs.

Sometimes I think I’m happier when I’m slightly melancholic. Here’s one of life’s smaller paradoxes, I guess. In melancholy I find the comfort of having survived it, the confidence of lowered expectations. The mentality of making do. Happiness, that burst of sunshine, that careless fervour, requires too much work, too much unwrangling of past attachments, detangling of previous knots, at times. You need to untangle so much, to get there. In the process you forget, that once everything’s untangled there is nothing left to hold you back.

Then you fall, not because of the drugs, but out of delirium and intoxication.

your favourite music - clem snide

2005-05-16T14:28:00.000+08:00

If I want you now it will be for all the wrongest reasons.

Because I’d probably only want you to be the catalyst for my memory. To remind me of the person I was. The person I was kind to before, and how and why. Is any of this in your best interest. I don’t think so.

This confidence, this forgetfulness, has got to go, I think. I want to be someone you actually liked. Someone you’d jump in front of a car for. That would be lovely. Unnecessary, but lovely, unlike fringe benefits.

Ignorance is bliss. Forgetfulness makes you confident. Confident that even if the worst shall take place, you’ll forget again.

What is the opposite of being in love, when you’re not in love?

hugo boss

2005-05-09T17:19:00.000+08:00

Make me remember.

Today someone else wore your perfume. My brain jolted at the scent, excited at a whiff of something that was once my reason for everything. It scampered as it tried to remember. Part of it was amused, how did I forget so much of something this important, how did it get to the point where nothing was left. Maybe because you left and so did I, eventually.

Back then I was naïve with certainty, or is it the other way around, certain with naivety. Whichever. Now I’m no longer both. Back then I was certain my love for you was enough for myself. I would’ve jumped in front of a speeding car for you. There was nothing selfless in it. There was only me in it.

It is odd, how I got over you so successfully. In the highly unlikely event you ask me to be with you now, I don’t have to think to say no. And it won’t be out of bitterness. After we left, something in me walked away, too. That is the secret of my success.

But today someone else wore your perfume and my mind just whizzed. Of what we could’ve been. Of what I would’ve turned into if I still wasn’t over you. Or if I could still be over you, and retain that part of me, that stranger I no longer recall. The stranger that thought of nothing else but to make you happy, in the smallest, most ingenious ways. The stranger who brought a stalk of daffodil for you, and couldn’t think of a plausible excuse. The stranger who told you, and only you, almost everything, and then in the end, everything.

Or if I could ever be that person again with someone else.

this old wound - dashboard confessional

2005-05-05T09:11:00.000+08:00

I have lost the urge to write, these days. The need to document, the need to dwell. The perpetual urge to keep things heavy, unfloating, grounded by their feet in hardening clay. I have lost the urge to keep you as a definite field, that I need to fill, that I need to feel. I have accidentally lost the need for a muse, I no longer care for one. I didn’t realize this happening, until I met you.

I can’t alchemize you into one, with my magic touch, want as I might.

You are an attempt, a prey, an easy one, I thought. I want you to be the things that someone else was. This is an unfair request, I know. But everyone lives with memories of things past. How else would we know anything, anything at all. Anything worth remembering is only a memory.

I have forgotten too much. This is a carefully planned accident. This is an accidental plan. An account for a dental plan. I brace myself for you, each time. You, you and you. The edges are always indefinite, your outline fades and meshes into something else, someone else. A mist, a gradient, a rainbow. You. You and you. There are no sharp edges that I can cut myself with. Pain reminds. But I’m too well-stocked on novocaine. I no longer remember if this is a good thing. It used to be, I think. You are the things you’re used to.

My problem is familiarity settles in too quickly. Sometimes awkwardness is a good thing, you know. It keeps you from leaping, from too much faith. It keeps you gingerly. Sometimes I want things to be foreign, so I stand a chance at getting acquainted. With you. You think I know everything, including you. I think so too, sometimes.

There is too much familiarity here. It’s not that I know you well. It’s not that you know me at all. But this feels like a ground often treaded. This feels like a cliché. How would you like to spend your life as a rerun? I wouldn’t mind if you don’t.

There is some kind of forgiving safety in predictability. You will be forgiven for the things you already knew, because there is simply no way to un-know. Forgetfulness is temporary. Even its completest permanence is a trailing sign of something else. Of another mark, another dent. Another account for a dental plan. This is what my psychiatrist prescribed. A dental plan. I look at his degree in psychiatry and sometimes think he is too ambitious.

More novocaine!

I want to feel again. I want to fill in the blanks. With you, my beautiful, iridescent excuse. An excuse to smile to a song. An excuse for more dairy, be as cheesy as possible. An excuse to be silly, and forgetful. Do you mind spending your life as an excuse? This way neither of us will be a recluse. I promise we’ll take turns to use and abuse. That’s the only way you’ll ever be a muse.

(I love rhyme and half-predictability, like some prophesying ability)

So here is some writing. Isn’t it amazing that I still don’t feel anything?

wonderwall

2005-04-18T08:57:00.000+08:00

i still want to write these things
for you
it's the only thing i'm good for
but you seem to be
less and less real
these days
only thing that's left of you
is a vague idea

it is difficult when you can't be sure of the edges

i have forgotten too many things i'm sorry

you gotta go there to come back

2005-04-14T15:11:00.000+08:00

These drugs, I tell you!

a man / me / then Jim

2005-04-04T14:45:00.000+08:00

You say that it's not that I don't want to be with you, but not now. Not now. That was many days weeks months years ago. Now I'm all grown up. I care less. I'm more careless. I drop crystals and lead with great unflinching. I keep my toes out of the way. I am living more recklessly, but with greater safety.

But you are the paradox I'm paranoid of.

more adventurous

2005-04-01T09:56:00.000+08:00

I seem to be picking up this habit of choosing slots of time to be alone. I've been spending lunch time alone mostly this week, just sitting at Starbucks and reading useful (oooo so that's who Condolezza Rice is?) and free magazines and newspaper. It has been nice, although sometimes I tire my own company then I start texting friends and past crushes on impulse, which is probably not very wise. Another habit is going to for a movie by myself, on impulse. Few weeks back it was Million Dollar Baby and I think I've ~~forced~~ gently and fetchingly told everyone to see it. Yesterday I went to see Spanglish, despite my deep passionate hatred for Adam Sandler. Whenever I see him making dopey eyes I want to gouge them out. But somehow despite this my instincts shooed me to the ticket counter. There's not much to risk if the movie is free, because I have, uh, free tickets, which I have scrounged from MA (and will scrounge for more), so yeah, Adam Sandler movie, why not, that Spanish chick looked interesting.

It turned out that Spanglish was really good! It's a movie that made me think, hey I want to put this on my all-time fave movie list. Tea Leoni was deliriously delicious as the trying, taxing, manic mother (Floooorrrrrrrrrrrrr), it's hard to hate her, even when she does the most unbelievable thoughtless thing, but she just tries and tries so hard. When you say a woman is really multiply trying (as in your patience, also as in for another chance), I think that Tea's character really nailed it. And that Paz Vega, man, where did they find her??? (Answer: "Sex & Lucia" -- and won some kind of Spanish Oscar Award for it). She's like a hotter (times one million), casually undainty version of Penelope Cruz, whom I hate (maybe out of phantom solidarity with Nicole Kidman, I'm not sure). Adam Sandler was just nicely not over-the-top. He actually made me think, hey, maybe I don't REALLY need a REALLY good-looking guy, as long as he's nice and cooks and understands me. And the kids are marvellous as well, especially Bernie. I like her character. Oklah, shall stop raving about the movie, I just didn't think that there'll ever be a day that I'd put an Adam Sandler movie on my list. And yesterday was that day. Tomorrow the sky will turn purple and it will rain striped peppermints. Keep looking up.

Also, the Rilo Kiley CD is finally here. Found it at Tower Records yesterday, after still reeling from the movie, and I was in a rare fresh mood. It's probably from the movie, but the CD made me smile to myself, Jenny Lewis has this voice, like expensive crystal on the edge of something really high (a cliff, a table), it's just wonderful, there's this lilting clear flow to it, and the lyrics are often written fiction-like and funny.

This is my current favourite:

Portions For Foxes

There's blood in my mouth
'cause I've been biting my tongue all week
I keep on talkin' trash but I never say anything

And the talkin' leads to touchin'
and the touchin' leads to sex
and then there is no mystery left
And it's bad news

Baby I'm bad news
I'm just bad news, bad news, bad news

I know I'm alone if I'm with or without you
but just being around you offers me another form of relief
When the loneliness leads to bad dreams
and the bad dreams lead me to callin' you
and I call you and say "C'MERE!"

And it's bad news
Baby I'm bad news
I'm just bad news, bad news, bad news
And it's bad news
Baby it's bad news
It's just bad news, bad news, bad news

'Cause you're just damage control
for a walking corpse like me - like you
'Cause we'll all be
Portions for foxes
Yeah we'll all be
Portions for foxes

There's a pretty young thing in front of you
and she's real pretty and she's real into you
and then she's sleepin' inside of you
and the talkin' leads to touchin'
and the touchin' leads to sex
and then there is no mystery left

And it's bad news
I don't blame you
I do the same thing
I get lonely too

And you're bad news
My friends tell me to leave you
That you're bad news, bad news, bad news
You're bad news
Baby you're bad news
and you're bad news
Baby you're bad news
and you're bad news

I don't care I like you
and you're bad news
I don't care I like you
I like you

somethingsomething

2005-03-08T14:40:00.000+08:00

Do you know how much I despise myself. You do. The spinelessness of it, the foggy uncertainty of it. Wishwash. I wished I washed. You'd rather I didn't. I'd rather you rather. This fighting is for someone else. I am tired. I am not you. I am better. I rock. I wish I'm stoned. Wishing, the quick trick of it. You’re carrot, the mule is tired. This fighting is for someone else. I am not meant for jousting, the smashing of armours. I am tired. I am holding myself back, I am forced to. This fight is rigged. I will lose. Someone is betting, the other is abetting.

I breathe slowly and exhale a million spikes. What are you doing here. Go. Now. While you still can. While I still like myself enough to get through without you. I am cruel, you know that. My breathing is heavy, like this. I am chained to it, guilt binds like glue. I pry and peel. I pray and feel. But this is only sometimes. Other times I scamper like a squirrel, hedging a nut. This is nuts. Only you know that. Even I don’t remember it sometimes. I dance across the spacebar. Ctrl-Alt-Del. It is okay to do this, you say. I fight myself again. There is an old scar. I want a clean slate. Ctrl-Alt-Del.

Metallic metaphors. Shiny things distract me. Make me matte.

not here, not completely

2005-03-08T08:52:00.000+08:00

I want you to save me, I think I have made this clear from the beginning. I want you to be the gatekeeper for the party of my thoughts, the sheer ecstasy and oxycodone of it. The painful exhilaration, and the kind numbness of it. Know that at time of writing, I don't know who I am. Know that at time of writing, I feel this is all foreign. Not mine. Not mine. Borrowed or on lease. I am scared to cross a line, and once I did I'm petrified for the relief it brings. I don't know which one to fear more. I'm counting on you to tell me that fear is unnecessary. Whoever is writing. I don't want to care. I want to be brave and careless. I want braveness, not brevity of it. But each time I'm brave enough to finish a line, I feel like I have crossed a million lines. Like a race I'll never finish. Or I finish again and again, but it never ends. It never ends. Every experience is aged and new, I've never met a single one before, though years remind me that I have. But seconds tell me it's now or never. Decide now for forever. Each guilt is renewed, like a baby. Like a new set of keys. But I can't open anything with them, they just weigh my pockets, like loose change. Too many loose change, in exchange for what. They're loose and useless. Everything heartbreakingly is. I want to be brave, I am, I am screaming in the wild, in bewilderment. Tell me this is ok. Tell me this is just. Fine. But how do I trust you when I'm feeding you answers myself. I want you to be an original. 30 minutes. You can start writing now. No no no I want prepackaged answers. I'll leak them to you, like old sea. Don't get creative. I can't take surprises. Tell me something I already know, but not remembering out of circuitry. Out of circus. I've been told again and again. The ringmaster has cracked his whip, too many times. I was distracted by the juggler. It's a disease, I am not at ease. It's a curse from a kiss, Snow White shouldn't have woken up. There is fear everywhere. Sleep is easy. In dreams you wear someone else's shoes. Even if it's yours. In dreams you fall from the sky and bit an apple. You woke up with a dislocated shoulder and a dry mouth. Dreams you can wiggle out of. However real it only takes seconds for another reality to swoosh in. You are displaced. Like a shoulder.

phantom loboctomy

2005-03-07T09:45:00.000+08:00

(Many thanks to the seemingly busifying properties of office webmail. It looks like I've been trying to craft many buzzword-worthy, thoughtful, incisive emails to vendors, users, clients and superiors all day.)

My memory is a slippery, unreliable thing, like an alcoholic father. Here's what happened:

During lunch, me and the guys were talking about the most adventurous thing that has happened to us. SF told a story about the bus he rode blew a tire, causing the bus to swerve to the side of the BRIDGE, hanging a bit precariously (I use the word precariously for dramatic effect) until somehow they opened the emergency latch or something and got everyone out (before bus drops off in the ocean --but this part I made up in my head) safely. He also told a story of the boat he was taking suffering a leak in the middle of the sea and how they had to jump off it (maybe, this lunch was a long time ago, I could be making things up -- but there was something involving leakage and a lot of panicking) before they actually reached shore.

Not wanting to be topped by SF, I told the story of when me and N were driving to town. There was a faulty traffic light (I think), so traffic was a bit of a mess, cars cutting into each other's lanes. Somehow a grey Satria and a big lorry got into some kind of altercation (I can't remember who was at fault). Guy from grey Satria got off his car and went to the lorry driver to give him a piece of his mind. Then the lorry driver wielded a PARANG. Satria guy ran back into his car. Me and N were screaming like girls inside our car, witnesses to a potential murderous bloodifying crime.

Story told, the guys were impressed. SF nodded in approval.

I went back home and recounted this to N, telling her I told what we saw to the guys at work and how impressed they were.

N: Eh, bukan aku sorang je ke dalam kereta masa tu? (Eh, I thought it was just me in the car?)

Me: Huh? *silently digesting very vivid footage of possible carnage*

N: I was on the phone with you lah at the time! I told you everything that happened! On the phone!

Me: But I remember everything so vividly! I even remember that the Satria was grey! I remember the parang...the Indian lorry driver...

N: That's because I told you it was a GTi!!!

full fledged yuppie

2005-03-02T13:47:00.000+08:00

It's hard to write here when your Aussie boss passes your cubicle every 5 minutes, sighing audibly (sometimes derisively, I like to think) while it's too late to minimize all your non-work related windows.

Such as this one. (ARRGGHH Aussie boss has very stealthy feet)

someone give me a ride

2005-02-18T10:57:00.000+08:00

Thumbing My Way Pearl Jam

I have not been home
since you left long ago
I’m thumbing my way back to heaven

Counting steps,
walking backwards on the road
I’m counting my way back to heaven

I can’t be free with what’s locked inside of me
If there was a key, you took it in your hand

There’s no wrong or right,
but I’m sure there’s good and bad
The questions linger overhead

No matter how cold the winter,
there’s a springtime ahead
I’m thumbing my way back to heaven

I wish that I could hold you
I wish that I had
Thinking ’bout heaven

I let go of a rope,
thinking that’s what held me back
And in time I’ve realized,
it’s now wrapped around my neck

I can’t see what’s next,
from this lonely overpass
Hang my head and count my steps,
as another car goes past

All the rusted signs
we ignore throughout our lives
Choosing the shiny ones instead

I turned my back,
now there’s no turning back

No matter how cold the winter,
there’s a springtime ahead
I smile, but who am I kidding?

I’m just walking the miles,
every once in a while I’ll get a ride
I’m thumbing my way back to heaven
Thumbing my way back to heaven
I’m thumbing my way back to heaven...

Lover You Should've Come Over -- Jeff Buckley

2005-02-16T09:56:00.000+08:00

Took Scott to CMG's bike shop of choice during the long weekend. Got reprimanded by Edwin (bike shop owner -- Joo Ngan's son, don't pray pray) and CMG because Scott is so dirty (me: it's dirt from USE, dudes!). Asked Edwin to replace my stem with a shorter one (when it comes to cycling, length does matter, guys) because it's been too long for ages , which makes riding excruciating for my back and arms. He did and lowered my headset and made some adjustments to my drivetrain, so now shifting is almost like a breeze (doesn't it feel kinky when I go into cycling talk mode). I asked him to replace my grips with red colored tape, so it will look sexier, but Edwin told me to wash my bike first. Hmph. But I like this Edwin guy, he's more of an enthusiast than a businessman. Although it's hard to stop him when he starts talking.

Total damage at Edwin's: RM368 for the stem, a cute yet useful saddle pouch for my handphone and spare tube, and a fetching Jean Delatour cycling jersey, which I'm still figuring out where exactly to wear to. Maybe can wear to singles' parties.

Haiyo impulsive impulsive impulsive. But I love fucshia too much!

CMG asked if I want to go to Edwin's again this weekend. If I go I think I should leave my wallet at home. That Limar helmet K bought for me is feeling a little bit tight...

*cycling log*

14th Feb 2005 -- Shorter stem is working wonders, my back only start to hurt after 40 minutes, not 10. Also arms don't hurt so much, and I have better control of the bike (because I can finally reach the damn handlebar!).

Readings (data in bracket shows previous ride) -->
Distance: 14km (12.5)
Time: 48 mins (48)

Edwin is miracle worker! Yay!

*end cycling log*

before the sunset

2005-02-14T09:58:00.000+08:00

Eeeyeergh I need another round of holiday. So malas to come to work today, it felt horrendously unnatural to wake up any moment before the sun blazes upon my face.

Skipped ironing, I'm going for the crumply look today. Yes I meant to.

Last weekend felt like a blur. Very malas to write about them, so here are some photos taken when me, N and some more friends went to Bagan Lalang.

Happy Valentine's! Today I go see my insurance agent. Sigh. Veli lomantic.

I love sunsets.

training day

2005-02-08T08:36:00.000+08:00

This blog shall now serve as my (embarrassing) cycling training diary log thing. An honor (or insult) to Scott.

*begin cycling log*

Jan 7th 2005 -- lubed Scott with greasy unlabelled thing found in garage. Not sure if greasy thing is actually good for Scott, but am despearate as there was no other seemingly suitable stuff except another bottle labeled 'engine degreaser'. Sure that's not it. Begin riding. Build pace. Wah so many schoolkids! Speed work (haha) was dampened by scampering suicidal schoolkids. Still got shifting trouble. Damn chain keeps rubbing front derailleur. Thinking about K, and how I can get him to fix this. Thinking about Asha Gil in cycling jersey. Distracted by small climb. Curse bumper mid-climb for destroying momentum. Gasp like a beached whale. Bum is sore.

Cateye readings -->
Distance: 12.5km
Time: 48 minutes

Most unimpressive. But shall not give up.

*end cycling log*

wanted: Ryan Cox's legs

2005-02-07T09:24:00.000+08:00

(Momentarily) inspired by Ryan Cox's good looks, Koji Fukushima's insane tenacity, and Graeme Brown's superturbo-charged legs, yesterday I packed Scott into my Toyota and headed to Putrajaya with N. Scott is having some trouble shifting, kept creaking at each crank turn, scaring the life out of the birds (and innocent joggers) at the park. This is probably because I never really bothered to lube him properly.

Realized I am so out of form. Cannot even do smallest climb. Had to get off Scott half-climb and push him the rest of the way. Scott is embarrassed of me and wishes he has a more competent owner, I can tell. Chose to put Scott (by this time completely humiliated by useless owner) down against the hillside and enjoy the scenic view of Putrajaya with N instead.

Must. Not. Give. Up. Though. N told me there's a Cyclefest event of some kind happening at the end of this month. If I train enough I might be able to whip myself back into shape by next year's event.

For some reason kept imagining Asha Gil looking cool in cycling gear, as source of inspiration.

I am the little engine that could. I am I am I am.

******

A texted last night saying Koji called her!!! Waaah! She offered me his phone no, but I restrain myself and shall only admire Koji for his ability to discard tactics for sheer insane tenacity and wild superlegs and stamina, not for his knack for stringing coherent conversation in English (and Malay).

Wonder what Koji called A for. Is he looking for a quick shag before leaving KL this morning? (For the record A is most decent morally upstanding citizen). Must find this out later. Cyclist gossip, is most interesting.

Last Goodbye -- Jeff Buckley

2005-02-04T09:20:00.000+08:00

It's set in stone, I'm moving to KLCC for good. The entire team is. In terms of placements in the tower we're being split according to skills, I think. But at least CMG is seated next to my cubicle, so all is not lost. If anything we'll still have each other to taunt. And we've been promised that internet access won't be a problem (HEEUUGE relief points). New department has more refined (more forms to fill and red tape) processes than our current one, where we usually just wing it, and I ~~hate~~ ~~detest~~ treat filling in forms and documentation with complete and utter disdain, so that's my only complaint for now. Job scope-wise I think I have more to be pleased about, since it's getting more specialized, and I get to do stuff that I don't really mind (on a good day) spending more than 8 hours a day on, so that's good too. But we'll see.

This is an opportunity to exercise one of my (quickly withering) new year resolutions -- to join the gym. S shall be my gym partner and sister-in-resolution. NG2 is interested to join the gym also (at least my hunch that he's metro is correct) so we're gonna be doing some scouting soon. Here's to Elektra bod!

******

A friend is breaking up with her boyfriend, I think, I feel ill-equipped to comfort and advise. She takes her relationships very seriously, sometimes too seriously I think, something I feel no longer familiar to, I'm a casualty of casualness these days, so I'm at loss of anything nonpointless to say to her. So if you're reading this, you, I hope things turn out okay. It'll be better.

I'm reminded of how unfeeling I feel these days, I wonder if this is a good thing. Had a talk with K the other day about me (of course, could there be a more interesting topic?) having not much desire to actually be in a serious relationship. That, and of course, sex. I have turned into a frigid cow. Sure, I flirt endlessly and my friends will say my brain is in the gutter 90% of the time, but it all feels like a sport to me. To actually do it, or actually bear the consequence and responsibility of an actual relationship, I don't think I'm capable. I kept telling K my mind's on other things, which is true, and I wonder if this is some sort of a non-convenient excuse, but an excuse nonetheless.

I came up with another excuse today, it's not that I don't want to be in a relationship, it's just that someone who wants to be in that relationship with me, that person has to be so many things, a saviour, a shrink, a superhero. Plus incredibly, impossibly, hot.

Cochise - Audioslave

2005-01-29T15:45:00.000+08:00

Errrrrgh. It's Saturday and what am I doing at the office. Boss, the nice lovely gentle accomodating brilliant man that he is (really, now how about that pay raise), he can be so forgetful at times. I would end up receiving requests/briefs that was sent a month ago by clients (hey, 2 months work in one month! imagine all the fun!), or some such last minute things (Can I have the screenshots this Monday? Morning? I'll send you the files before end of Friday).

On another office-related note, I might have to move back to KLCC, and my current team might disband. No more CMG making fun of my music, and him taking the piss from me for being such a cocky arse. *Sobs*.

******

I think one of the new guys has a crush on me. This is very perasan of me, of course, but he's being a bit obvious, even a daft person like me can tell. This is an ego-boosting sort of problem to have, of course, as opposed to, no one in your team having a crush on you, but it is making things slightly awkward at the office. I'm trying to discourage him by saying things like "I'm sort of seeing a lot of people at the moment, none of this serious relationship crap" (which is some kind of a convenient half-truth, except for the seeing A LOT of people bit) and make myself comes across as some kind of a busy woman-of-the-world arrogant arse.

It takes the fun out of the sport when you know the other person is sort of, hoping.

******

How many times in your life has someone offered to pay for a hooker to do you?

(but you can't do it here, not in this country).

Or should I translate this question into, How desperate do your friends think you are for a shag?

I am seriously considering this proposal, out of lack of more interesting things to consider at the moment.

Off He Goes -- Pearl Jam

2005-01-27T08:07:00.000+08:00

Annual dinner has been postponed to sometime in March, yay! Which means more time to worry and fret about what to wear.

list from suggestions in comment box:

- Natalie Portman in pink hair (suggestion from Idlan) -- hmmmm wonder if they also have poles in Hyatt.
- Drag king look (suggestion from petra) -- I'll most probably skip the drawn moustache bit, for whatever shred of dignity left for me at this office
- Lara Croft look (suggestion from amin) -- where/from who can I borrow a 38DDDDD bra? And it's, uh, fillings?
- RIng ghost (suggestion from Jay) -- the wuss that I am, I'll probably just scare myself
- Scooby Doo girls (suggestion from Jay) -- I like this. hmm. other cartoon characters idea sparked by scooby doo girls suggestion...

- the Flintstone girls (shall be difficult)
- the Powerpuff girls (shall be extremely difficult, since they don't really have proper human form/legs)
- any 70's cartoon character (which names all elude me at the moment)
- the Jetsons
- Lisa Simpson (but my skin and haircolor is not same)

Oooohh! Oooohh! Can I come in as Wade Robson? As I keep telling Sis, if he's a cartoon he'd be a damn good-looking cartoon.

Strangely enough she agreed.

******

CMG has broken a new world record of not stopping from talking about bicycles for more than a week, so I took him to see K at the bike shop the other day. It's like bringing a grasshopper to see an Italian bicycle Yoda. CMG and bike shop owner rummaged the place, they got him groped and measured for fit, I think he's fallen in love with a Look frame, brand new, which I have to say, is a scorching looker. But the price is scorching his wallet too. I just sat by and reeled in the pleasure of watching him get suckered in by the bike shop guy as they kept adding on components and stuff. Makes me want to get a new bike too, but I slap myself and think of the long-suffering, long-unridden Scott in the kitchen.

K prefers that CMG get a second hand bike, preferably Italian (oh but of course!). He's looking for good second hand bikes for CMG. He forwarded me pictures of bikes so I can forward them to CMG. Yesterday when he texted first thing he asked was 'hows yr toyboy' and ignored more significant information that I was at clinic and sick. He's invited CMG to join them in Genting Sempah this Sunday and has asked me to ask CMG to get a pair of cycling shoes and cleats.

I'm feeling a little ignored and jealous. Maybe time to lube Scott and brace myself for the hilly challenge at Genting Sempah...

******

(upon entering bike shop)

K: are you two together?

Me: (tries not to grin so much)

CMG: (also a bit awkward) Oh we work together (or some such boring inaffectual statement).

(while CMG is completely distracted into looking at Look frame)

K: your squeeze?

Me: why, you jealous? He's quite good-looking, isn't he?

K: yeah.

Me: for show off only. yeah...what to do...

K: (grins)

night of the stars

2005-01-19T13:35:00.000+08:00

Company annual dinner is lurking distractingly around the corner. The theme for the night is movie stars, or something to that effect. I still haven't decided what to go as, but in the spirit of my new hobby, which is making lists, here are the potential getups I will embarrass myself in:

i) first ultimate backup plan -- Men In Black (very easy, black suit, white shirt, and sunnies, but CMG said someone's already doing that. Argh!)
ii) Avril Lavigne (CMG's suggestion -- to be seriously considered despite lacking skirt and long funny socks)
iii) Dana Scully (again, it's the suit thing. Hmm wonder if need to carry gun or alien spit or unborn foetus)
iv) Sydney Bristow (whoah! But don't have her masculinely toned arms, neck and legs, nor supercool red wig from last episode)
v) As part of cycling team (jersey, helmet and silly kamikaze shoes -- CMG's suggestion also, he's in cycling rapture, to be seriously DISREGARDED. Also, as I keep saying, cyclists are not movie stars)
vi) Ju-On (N's suggestion -- very easy! only need white bedsheet)
vii) Kylie Minogue (makes use of same item from vi)

list to be continued. Suggestions, please!

mistaken identity

2005-01-12T08:06:00.000+08:00

There's been an onslaught of new guys in my team this month. All programmers (geek attack!). Plus AR, there are 3 of them. AR gets along well with everyone, he's fun and easy to talk to, New Guy 1 (NG1) is still a bit shy, and the oldest of three of them, but the most amusing case is New Guy 2 (NG2). He's quite cute, soft spoken and on first impression, his style screams 'gay!'. Or at least metro. So we all went for breakfast the other day and NG2 asked if Boss is married. But then he quickly said, in his shy, fumbling way, 'not that I'm interested...'.

I think for a split second there was this weird awkward moment at the table (all guys except me). Then I quickly pointed to AR saying 'AR's single!'. Everyone laughed, but rather uncomfortably, I think. Prudes.

I thought for once my hunch was correct.

5 minutes later I learnt he's married.

Based on prior gained information (that I've sworn to CH -- another colleague -- not to tell anyone, I don't know why CH insists so) that NG2 is his friend, case gets more amusing. Because CH is that type too, when he first joined the company everyone thought he was gay and couldn't believe he's actually married. He is my Gucci Man.

NG2's here! Gotta go do my research...heheh.

the way of the future

2005-01-06T13:54:00.000+08:00

Maybe new year should be spent blogging less. Hmm.

Just got back from our CEO's address thing. Most of the time we all want to strangle him when he makes incredulous requests beyond humanly capabilities, but he was quite inspiring as a speaker. Makes me want to get...more...technological. Read more...technological news on Yahoo. Surf for new technological gadgets. Get up to speed with...technology. Guess what word is stuck in my head today.

Is it possible to be inspired but also have no discernible thoughts in your head? Or maybe I'm mistaking inspiration with groggy caffeine jolt. Two starbucks latte, plus coffee and (loveliest) dim sum in Mandarin, all before lunch.

I need to go pee.

annual review #2

2004-12-24T14:13:00.000+08:00

Futsal last night with the boys. CMG tripped me and pretended he didn't see as I slid few centimentres on the turf. His excuse was gravity. Giving him many pieces of my mind today. Knees beginning to purple. Brought friend to the game and watched in horror and utter cringement (is there such a word? anyway) as a colleague tried to hit on her. Discussed hopelessness of such efforts with CMG and new guy, AR, over lunch. But we're going again tonight to play badminton. Maybe will catch Kungfu Hustle before game.

Going to be on support team with K for a bicycle race this weekend. Haven't seen him for many weeks (months?). My previous track record of being on support team has been dismal and incompetence-ridden, involved getting lost (I blame them road marshals) and such, but history shall not stop me. Road trip!

...continuing on my list of new year resolutions...

16. acquire Shane-like figure
17. if possible, her drawl and voice too, but let's work on 16 first
18. unglue self from certain attachments
19. certain nonsensical attachments
20. appreciate certain other attachments more
21. refind normalcy
22. not blame others too much
23. even when it is obviously obvious they're responsible for all that is wrong with the world
24. but I shall keep my whingeing to a minimum, and be all peaceful and stuff
25. i mean, at peace with my much-lessened whingeing
26. and be a more magnificiently magnetically magnanimous person
27. try to remember things, and not become like Dad
28. who forgot that he took my office parking pass and didn't put it back in the car this morning
29. causing having to park all day in KLCC and LRT trips
30. and unnecessary whingeing detrimental to 22, 23 and 24
31. stop making impossible lists

Have a groovy New Year, everyone. Hope your resolutions make more sense. Or just dont bother having any.

(someone suggested 16 should be to quit smoking, but I don't want to get too ambitious with my list. I'm practical.)

2004-12-23T11:54:00.000+08:00

Re: (ix), Scott is, my bike, that's currently productively gathering dust.

In case you think I have a well-endowed, eager to gratify, often ignored, mat saleh expatriate lover.

annual review

2004-12-23T08:59:00.000+08:00

So, to sum up this year...

It felt like a year of making mistakes. A series of carefully planned, meticulously executed mistakes.

But they needed doing.

I don't know if I'll ever learn anything. I hope I do, though. Some mistakes costed too much.

So next year will be what. I have no idea. Maybe I should take things more slowly, restock, rekindle, light up a candle.

Things I aspire to do beginning after I post this post (new year resolution needs 1-week headstart):

i) not get so easily distracted
ii) stop making distraction as a goal in life
iii) be more serious
iv) at work, that is
v) ambitious, driven go-getter and all that
vi) spend more time with self
v) and not whine about it
vi) or crave differently
vii) be more, Teflon-like, but in a useful manner
viii) as in perfect the art of letting things slide
ix) ride Scott more often
x) maybe not flirt too much with strangers/non-strangers
xi) just stop flirting and maintain a cool, mysterious, intriguing aura
xii) look before leap, and other cliches
xiii) join gym, and stick to it

Okay I have to stop here because I don't know what goes after xiii.

Off for a one-week leave starting next week. See you 2005.

the sound of white -- missy higgins

2004-12-15T15:57:00.000+08:00

This week has been strange, but not altogether unfamiliar. I knew what I was getting myself into all along, and I could almost see, almost premonitiously (if such word existed, if it doesn't, then consider that I just made one up) how it's going to end. I wonder if this is just unrelenting pessimism, past experiences refusing to be a crutch, not even a sling, not even a shot. But surely if you can see how it's going to end, and you attempt an effort at it anyway, and you pay no heed at its foreseeable consequence, surely this means something is wrong with you, not the other party, not the consequence, not the affable slingshot.

I am more angry than hurt, I think, which is a good thing. The former is temporary insanity, a flash in the pan, a pen in the flesh, the latter just slowly and surely drives you insane.

Boss asked if I wanted to attend a little office makan-makan thing earlier, but I entirely don't feel up to it. Socializing feels like a mountaineous effort today, was telling F I should stop meeting new people, I can't keep the ones I know in check.

I am tired. Exhausted from what exactly. I feel like a strainer, I can hold nothing, nothing stays with me, everything just leaks and leaks and leaks.

scar -- missy higgins

2004-12-10T15:59:00.000+08:00

Long time no write. Been a little too scatterbrained lately to gather thoughts properly and air them in writing. And some pertinent thoughts I'd rather keep to myself (ooo how refreshing let's pop the champagne).

I am in love, must go get her cd soon. Just look at her. Listen to how she looks. Look at how she sounds. I don't know why, everytime I want to describe her voice I can only think 'tomboyish', but in a fun, fresh, perfunctory way, which is not much of an aural description than visual. But yeah. I haven't been this excited about a singer/band for quite some time.

Going for a long weekend, due to parents-going-awayness fest (freeeeedomm!), and sending T off before she goes to Miri for good. Some other friends are taking a day off too, so we're just gonna chill out together possibly for last time for many years to come.

Anyone going for Rock The World V? If you see an Avril Lavigne-impersonator (but with shorter hair, and longer pants, and most probably not cargo, ok not Ms Lavigne's greatest impersonator, obviously, but I'll be wearing a mean red wristcuff!) and Vin Diesel-wannabe there, that'd most probably be me and CMG. Haha! It's going to be fun to mock the youngsters (and ourselves, for having the gall to associate ourselves with teenagers in the first place).

Futsalling tonight for first time in... ages. Surprise invitation from tourney chick I haven't played with in ages to join her team. I'm not going to impress anyone.

dead man walkin' -- bruce springsteen

2004-11-26T11:00:00.000+08:00

Sister I won't ask for forgiveness
My sins are all I have
-- Bruce Springsteen

CMG gave me couple more CDs to listen to (after berating me for my 'sleepy' music taste), one of them is the Dead Man Walking soundtrack. I remember watching this movie many, many years ago and was just so moved by it. The all-consuming power of pride and forgiveness, how both are polar opposites, but such emotions that can eat you whole, regardless which side of the pole you're on, your only option is to pick one and let it consume you.

I cry a lot at movies. Sometimes I think I ONLY cry at movies. I feel all stupid and awkward at funerals and farewell gatherings, but I cried during Mulan. I cried during X-Men (and its very, very good sequel). I had a lump in my throat and had to wall up my tears during The Incredibles sebab segan. I would shed a few tears during those quasi-sensitive moments in stupid cheesy teenage movies like I Know What You Did Last Summer when Jennifer Love Hewitt and Freddie Prinze thought they've finally beaten the bad guy and got all relieved and kissy. If you somehow can make me watch White Chicks (and this will take huge inordinate amounts of force), I will probably cry at it too. I cannot stand Hollywood sob moments. However forced and stereotypical, theirs always seem to make my troubles pale under all that nice cinematography and lighting. A shrink would say this is an obvious sign of some repressed sadness or trauma, but hey, we're not talking about my shrink.

Aaanyway. Dead Man Walking. I think it touched me so much, because I always want to believe in forgiveness. All my life, I think, I've been looking for someone to save me, save me, save me. And forgive me. From something, for something. I always think that my be-all, end-all, would be when this someone, save me from my guilt, and forgive me for all that I've done. Or tell me that I'm forgiven. That it did not matter.

Yeah. Go watch it.

raya massacre

2004-11-22T09:50:00.000+08:00

This is way overdue, but Selamat Hari Raya to all.

I was mauled, shot at, climbed on, groped and molested by wee tiny cousins in kampung. It was great for the first 10 minutes, but that's as far as my maternal reservoir extends. After that I want to place all of them under strict 500-feet restraining order. I wonder if there's any judge that will listen to me. I had scars to prove my case.

Managed to finish Stephen Hawking's A Brief History of Time during raya week which impressed a lot of people and was good for a few conversational starters (J can verify this, heheh). I think it would've been more impressive if I actually understood the damn thing and can go further than just a statement of "oh yeah I managed to finish Stephen Hawking". When people ask what it's about I just mumble quickly about the intriguing possibility of time moving backwards and how it's just a concept instead of reality and hope they'll stop at that and talk about movies instead. But you can always count on festive holidays to rekindle my interest in theoretical quantum physics.

Also tried to finish Milan Kundera's Laughable Loves, which only managed to hold my interest in 20-minutes spurts. Didn't finish. Should've brought some fluff chic lit instead. Gimme girls with PR jobs and stilletto heels worrying about non-existent flab and philandering boyfriends any day.

Last CD bought: Garden State movie soundtrack. Breezy folksy goodness with light unobsessive dashes of electronica. Highlight tracks:

In the Waiting Line Zero 7
I Just Don't Think I'll Ever Get Over You Colin Hay
Fair Remy Zero
One of These Things First Nick Drake

Just lovely.

******

Coffee during the day! Yay! How did I ever manage without it for a month? That qualifies for an entry in Ripley's Believe or Not, or something.

On a less miraculous note, haven't touched a single cigarette since for more than a month. Except once last Friday when I got curious of a friend's imported unseen-before brand. Felt a bit nauseous and dizzy afterwards, none of that perky rejuvenating uplifting breathy effect my Sampoernas usually had, so is a good sign.

Have a lovely week trying to reset your brain back to work mode, everyone.

as lovers go - dashboard confessional

2004-11-08T08:53:00.000+08:00

Last weekend has been, enlightening. Not in the sense that I lost 5 pounds, which would be good also in light of impending storm of Raya open houses, but slightly better. My ego feels good knowing I've been right all along, that this is not an illusion of my own conjuring, this is not for my lack of trying, lack of effort, lack of confidence, lack of interest. This is just, is.

But yes, yes, as people like to point out, truth hurts. I realize knowing a fact for what it is does not make the fact a smoother, sleeker pill to swallow. A fact is like a brick, or a spade, acknowledging it doesn't turn it into something else. But at least you can stop calling it something it's not, and you can avoid missteping on it, and hurt yourself, and perhaps other people in your mistake and failure of recognition.

At least you save time. And a stubbed toe. Or a heartbreak.

Someone was generous enough with his impulse and pride. I owe you so much, so much, more than I've told you. You know who you are.

I said to A yesterday, the truth is less convenient than I wanted it to be, but the lie is so not worth the effort.

******

My current favourite song, my iTunes indicated that I've heard this song 20 times in two days. It's on the Shrek2 soundtrack.

As Lovers Go Dashboard Confessional

She said, "I've got to be honest,
You're wasting your time if you're fishin' around here."
And I said, "You must be mistaken,
I'm not foolin', this feelin' is real."
She said, "You've gotta be crazy,
What do you take me for? Some kind of easy mark?"

"You've got wits,
You've got looks,
You've got passion,
But i swear that you've got me all wrong."

All wrong
All wrong
But you've got me

I'll be true, I'll be useful, I'll be cavalier,
I'll be yours my dear
I'll belong to you
If you just let me through

This is easy as lovers go.
So dont complicate it by hesitating.
This is wonderful as loving goes.
This is tailor-made,
What's the sense in waiting?

I said, "I've got to be honest,
I've been waiting for you all of my life."
For so long I thought I was asylum bound,
But just seeing you makes me think twice.
And being with you here makes me sane.
I fear I'll go crazy if you leave my side.

"You've got wits,
You've got looks,
You've got passion,
But are you brave enough to leave with me tonight?"

Tonight
Tonight
You've got me

ever fallen in love - pete yorn

2004-11-05T13:36:00.000+08:00

If I'm a font I'd be bold.

Feel surprisingly good today. My neurotics seem to be content with the backseat of my mind today, while the last few days have felt like trudging through a wet ditch with a chainball to my ankles. I hope this lightness, this airiness, stay. I can breathe. Sappy songs cheer me up. Chris Cornell makes me smile, and him of all people told me while driving to work, it'll be okay. These things you're doing and you think you're harming yoursef with them, it's okay.

Really Chris Cornell said all that.

since i told you it's over - stereophonics

2004-11-02T08:31:00.000+08:00

After, well, about two weeks of abstinence from my favourite vice, the lovely dark dashing Mr. Coffee, it seems that this decaffeinizing program has gotten on too well. I had coffee for buka puasa last night, just for kicks, and haven't been able to really sleep since. Kept tossing and turning in bed, listening to Natalie Merchant again and again. Before that I even had the energy and gumption to go on an impulsive baju raya shopping (honest, me and Sis were just out for midnight snacks) at Warta.

I now own a light aquamarine-ish kebaya. I've never had a kebaya before, ever. Dad, are you happy now???!

my son has kidnapped the rock star #2

2004-10-29T14:48:00.000+08:00

(discussing Brad Pitt and his upcoming movie Ocean's 12 while watching the trailer at CMG's desk)

CMG: If I'm a girl I'd fall in love/go for (can't really remember exact wording, out of shock) Brad Pitt.

Me: (tries to stifle grin) Oooo Brad Pitt is not drop dead gorgeous la, but he's got a nice package.

CMG: So, seriously, which guy do you think is drop dead gorgeous/your type/hot (also, cannot remember exact wording)? Serious, I want to know. (looks all serious)

Me: Ummm.

CMG: Who??

Me: Kejap la, let me think! Aaah have you seen this movie, Almost Famous?

CMG: What, the geeky teenage reporter?

Me: No!!! The rockstar guy! What's his name...

CMG: Russell!

Me: Yeah, Russell...Aw man...

CMG: Russell...

(conversation interrupted when S called.)

my son kidnapped the rock stars

2004-10-29T10:46:00.000+08:00

Oi, there's nothing to do at the office. It's one of those rare exotic days when there's, weil, nothing to do. Well at least nothing pressing. I have been playing Dynomite all morning. Can't wait for the day to end so I can go watch The Manchurian Candidate (I have tickets booked at KLCC) with N or something equally old-sounding and boring and non-shocking activity for old people like us. That is if she has nothing better to do after work, like saying goodbye to her colleagues.

Today is N's last day at work. She's going to give up her stressful (she kept telling me programmers have the highest suicide rate -- no way of veryfying this interesting bit of statistic, but sounds utterly plausible, hmm, maybe psychiatrists second. Or maybe N's just feeling a tad masochistic these days, I don't know, I hope not) job to continue her studies. Yay for her in the sense of leaving possibly the most stressful job I know of (apart from being an atomic-bomb-dismantler, or mamba-venom-collector, or being Sydney Bristow, I guess). Not so yay for her because no job means she'd be back in the, as S loves to say, non-profit industry. Less shopping trips for us. Sob. But I'm a proven (ok sometimes not so proven, as friends will argue) expert at window shopping also (a skill gained and perfected during a prolonged stint in the non-profit industry), so we can still have fun.

So hurrah for N! May post-grad lecturers be less annoying than your ex-clients.

******

Dad wanted me to test drive his friend's Honda Accord during lunch today. I'm not sure if I hope he remembers, or forgets.

******

I'm supposed to have a tentative date with KD yesterday or today. I hope he forgets. Why oh why can't I just be honest and tell it like it is straight up no sugar-coating none whatsoever with this man?

I am not interested. I am not interested. I am not interested. That is the truth.

But the moment he calls me up or we chat online I get all senselessly flirty and suggestive. Why do I do this???

Courage (and spine) be with me next time please.

******

I can't believe I forgot a good friend's birthday, for about a week. What's worse I think I forgot also last year, for roughly a week. It's unpardonably horrible of me. It's also strange, because if you ask me 4-5 years ago, I would've sworn that would be the last thing I'd forget. Already called her yesterday to wish her an inexcusable belated birthday, she thought I did already wish her on her birthday and got a bit confused. Oh well. The mind is an unpredictable thing, sometimes, if you give it a chance.

******

Someone who said she wasn't coming home this year, suddenly said she is. Something to really look forward to, I don't know why all the sudden I'm a little bit nervous. But in a good way.

Been grinning silly to myself at work, in the car, it's so hard trying to fake looking all serious and concentrate on something. Waiting for S to give me a good slap and snap me out of it.

S, your assistance is urgently required.

******

Dad just called wondering if I'm free on the 8th. I tread carefully before ever saying I'm free on any given date to Dad, in case I should be dragged to some boring-I'd-rather-watch-paint-dry-boring office (his) event. But this time it's a possible buka puasa do at Mandarian Oriental, something I'd always want to do but never wanted to pay for myself. So I said yes I have no plans yet on 8th.

Then he said ok just in case my staff can't make it that day.

Hmph.

******

Weekend soon yay!

******

Did anyone watch The Simple Life last night? I only watched part of it because there was some Alicia Keys special on Channel V. Sis kept begging me to change the channel back to Starworld but I feigned deafness.

But the bit when they filled the milk bottles with water... absolute anarchy! I nearly killed myself laughing when Nicole said 'I'm actually doing them good, it's less fat!'.

couch tomato

2004-10-26T08:08:00.000+08:00

Boss is planning to assign me to a new high-priority-visibility project, which sounds cool to me, especially when he promised (I sort of made him promise, hurrah empowered me) 'design work, no programming, but maybe you can learn to set up the thing', I wonder what thing that I have to set up, but the no programming bit cheers me up.

I hope for this one I no longer have to deal with naggingnaggingnagging clients and vendors who pretend to flirt with me while trying to get me to tell them what the project budget is.

Hope can get current projects cleared by this week. Hopehopehope.

******

I have turned into some kind of a reality TV addict on Sundays, I am content to not go out (it's fasting month anyway) and just slob in front of the TV and watch For Love or Money 3, The Simple Life and The Apprentice, preceded by CSI and The Practice. There goes my entire Sunday afternoon. By the time everything's over it's already 5 and A would be asking me if I want to go scour the streets for buka puasa food.

I wish I can come up with a more critical, incisive, introspective, intelligent review of these addictive series, but being reality TV series, their own nature and purpose prohibits me from writing or thinking of anything critical or intelligent or incisive about them. That would be like defying water's purpose of being wet, or something equally futile.

(this is my brain on Sunday)

2pm - 3pm, For Love or Money 3: Jamie is SO HOT. Preston is an idiot for offing all the girls with the big cheques. Maybe he is actually looking for true love in a tv series. Awwwww. Jamie is HOT. Lingerie manager, mmm.

3pm - 3.30pm, The Simple Life: Paris Hilton. My new bimbo role model. Her complete obliviousness to normal life, is astoundingly amusing. A told me Paris faked some of her obliviousness, just to make the show more interesting, but I find it amusing nonetheless. I would even dare say she has some amount of comic timing.

4pm - 5pm (fighting backache from lying in front of tv for too long), The Apprentice: VersaCorp. Losers. Although the girls can be a bit much sometimes. Rosa, who does she think she is???

By the way, did anyone catch that Next Top Model Tyra Banks thing last Saturday? I caught the marathon for the first time, been meaning to watch the series but could never remember what day it's on. Wished I could watch the whole marathon but only managed to catch the first 3 episodes. Don't you think Elyse looks EXACTLY like Winona Ryder? Robin, who does she think she is??? Same goes for Ebony. Cory, one who shall only be known as hunky guy who has something to do with skateboards, maybe you should dump your weepy moody clingy girlfriend Nicole. She annoys me greatly, I wonder how could she not annoy you.

me business analyst

2004-10-18T15:22:00.000+08:00

Yay Boss was impressed with the project documentation thingie that I spent the whole weekend worrying over (but didn't actually do) and completed earlier today with a healthy amount of copy-pasting and inserting senseless corporate buzzwords.

Boss: so you can write this sort of stuff, huh?

Me: But I don't like eeeeeeeeet.

Boss: *ponders some more* but you can write this sort of stuff.

Me: *ponders the very likely possibility of a new job description*

******

Caffeine withdrawal symptoms refusing to relent. Blocked nose (I bet this is a symptom, but perhaps not of caffeine withdrawal) and a very slight, but noticeable, pounding headache (I very rarely get headaches, despite the disgusting amount of coffee I consume, except when I don't, that is).

******

Dear reader(s), I beg, beg of you to listen to this song, Please Do Not Let Me Go by Ryan Adams.

(CMG: Bryan Adams? Why didn't you just go buy a Celine Dion, then?

Me: Huh?

Me: *after some amount of time* It's Ryan Adams! Ryyaaaannn!)

I shall copy-paste part of the song:

You were sweet enough to sing
Oblivious to melody
Red suitcase full of clothes
Washed up on the shore of memory

I'm all alone now and I feel just fine
I don't feel much like doing anything
True love ain't that hard to find
Not that either one of us will ever know
Would you lay here for awhile?

Please, do not let me go
Please, do not let me go

decaf me

2004-10-18T11:12:00.000+08:00

I love Mondays. I love Mondays better when they come with caffeine withdrawal symptoms, hunger pangs, and guilt of not finishing work over the weekend.

Oh yes absolutely.

are you covered?

2004-10-12T16:42:00.000+08:00

Lunch date with my insurance agent today. Finally I think I'm trying to be serious about this, Dad's been pestering me to get myself insured, 'just in case' -- he kept saying in his voice of impending doom. Told insurance guy 'give me something that's low-maintenance. I don't want to have to queue at the post office/bank for this'. I pestered him for a list of diseases they cover (yay hypochondriac me -- unfortunately, they don't cover psychiatric treatment, argued with him about this to a certain extent before he thinks I'm a potential nutcase), so insurance agent is here today to give me my list and quote. He ran my numbers based on a 29-year old, non-smoking female. Screamed 'do I LOOK 29???'. Insurance agent apologized profusely, saying it was a typo. Hmph. Insurance agent asked if I swim, good shoulders. Quick save. Guess there's a reason why he's in the field. I like him. Chatty, but not too chatty, and casual. And he has interesting gossips. I haven't signed anything yet.

Then after lunch we nicked off outside for cigarettes. (Isn't there something inherently , industrially wrong about insurance agents smoking? Something to do with risk management.). Was gossiping about politics (me? politics?) happily until 'Dad's friend I used to carpool with' passed by. AAAAAAAAA! Tried to hide cigarette behind my leg and look casually stupid standing at corner doing what exactly.

Gaaaaaaaaaaahh I soooo hope he didn't see.

Another insurance-related guy called too see if he can have 15 minutes to half an hour max of my time. What is this, International Insurance Day or something? Is my phone no listed on the national insurance agents' database as a very promising catch? Have these people seen my bank balance lately?

*******

On a non-me related note (ooo how refreshing):

A got talent-spotted! Been begging her to let me tag along to her grooming class. I'll hide in her makeup bag if I have to.

2004-10-11T11:45:00.000+08:00

I have been horrible. Yesterday I cancelled on KD again, despite tentatively saying yes (out of politeness) few days before.

I haven't seen KD in months, really, or maybe weeks, whatever, it's been long enough for me not to worry. Then late last week, I was having dinner with K, then, least of all expectations, KD walked past our table. He was taking his parents out for dinner, or something. Casual introductions were made, hi's and call me's were said. I was secretly hoping that it's obvious to him that K and I were in some kind of serious conversation (we were), he would think that I'm on a date with K, and it would be obvious that K is the polar opposite of him in so many ways so it would dawn on him (KD) that's he's not my type in the first place.

It guess these things weren't so obvious to him, because he called the next day to ask me out again.

Okay, I'm not completely blameless, I do flirt with KD. It's the only language I know with him, I don't know why is that. It's like the only English I know with him is flirt-English. It's automatic. I don't think I do this with other guys (but then again, maybe I do, friends, tell me if I do this and not realize it!). I think this is because I honestly don't know how to talk to him, on things that matter, or if I even care to. I'm beginning to realize this is the case, I flirt endlessly with people I don't really care about, because there's nothing else to really talk about, which in turn gave them the wrong idea, then they get all serious and want to talk about marriage.

rain king - counting crows

2004-10-11T10:38:00.000+08:00

Dear weekend, how come you're always over so soon? You'd make a horrible lover.

Went to watch K at his bicycle race thing in Putrajaya on Sunday. It encouraged me to get on my Scott again. Men in colourful tights! Men with shaved legs! Mmm. Maybe not. K's boys (heheh, he sounds like a rent boy pimp) won most of the podium, even though it wasn't him, I could see that it made him very happy. He's very passionate about his cycling. I think my parents (or any sane reasonable human being) would get a heart attack if they knew how much his bike(s) cost.

It's wonderful seeing a grown man get all ecstatic over such things, like cycling and bicycles. K kept saying 'it's important to have passion, whatever you do'. I can see that he's right. He is in his forties, and happily so.

I feel like a 24 year old in a time warp. When I (finally) grow up I want to be like K.

He never did. Grow up.

this is not a test.

2004-10-07T08:09:00.000+08:00

It's like finding something new, with an age of ages, and never wanting to forget.

It's not it's like.

(okay, this looks like the end of my cryptic mode for a while. Befuddled readers and friends, be fuddled no more.)

Have a lovely day.

brick

2004-09-28T16:36:00.000+08:00

Is there a better feeling than letting yourself sink to the lowest of low?

Sometimes, I think no there isn't.

room for Rumi

2004-09-27T15:37:00.000+08:00

F gave me a copy of Unseen Rain: Quatrains by Rumi as a belated birthday present. Have heard of Rumi before from another friend, I thought he had something to do with the Kama Sutra (shows how MUCH I know).

I love it. He speaks in verses that makes you wonder if they're of divine union, or human love, or both. It's intriguing and whimsically pleasing, and one can't help but feel taken into the breezy, unmistakable tinge of enlightenment, wild, drunken epiphanies under the silent moon. One can only sorely long for such travels.

Here's my favourite so far:

I have lived on the lip of insanity,
wanting to know reasons,
knocking on a door. It opens.
I've been knocking from the inside!

telephonic

2004-09-27T08:39:00.000+08:00

I just bought myself a new micro hi fi system. So now I can listen to CDs properly, because the old one has been broken since I was in Melbourne and had never really bothered to get it fixed. If procrastination is a paid skill, I'd be a millionaire 5 years ago.

Had the most mind-boggling time trying to connect the speakers. Most of the time they either went completely silent or only one or parts of the speakers would work. Bro walked in and I told him to do it. He did it in like, 5 seconds. Turned out I've been inserting the wires wrongly. Oh yay for my electrical competence. I think I just perpetuated the whole male-female gender stereotype, you know, the one that says we're lousy drivers. Oh well.

Ooooh I'd invite you over to listen to the crisp sound of my new hifi. It plays DVDs too, but I'd have to get a tv first.

*******

AZ, a character long missing from my daily life because he's been overseas, called last week.

*conversation was late last week, so might not be completely accurate*

AZ: Hello.

Me: Hello.

AZ: Hey baby.

Me: (very befuddled, checks number again to make sure who's calling. Number was not in phonebook.) Uh, hello?

AZ: Hey baby.

Me: Who's speaking?

AZ:Hey, it's AZ lah. Why are you so garang?

Me: (could not believe what I was hearing. Was reduced to useless ecstatic twitter.) You! Oh my goodness! Haven't heard from you in ages! Sorry I thought you were my stalker! Sorry sorry! When did you get back! I meant to leave you a message or something but wasn't sure you'd be still using the old number! How are you! Sorry it's been more than a year I kinda forgot how you sound like! (pitch increasing by each sentence)

AZ: Relax la no need sound too excited...(smug)

Me: Wah someone has gained a newly-found self esteem while in UK, huh? When did you get back?

AZ: Yesterday.

Me: Oooooo. Am I the first one you called? *grin* This is your new number?

AZ: Umm sort of. Before that I tried calling myself.

Me: I'll somehow take that as a compliment.

******

Interesting telephonic conversation last week #2

*also, my memory does not allow this to be completely accurate*

(phone rings -- number shows a friend's ex? (but they're on good terms). But still, huh?)

Me: Hello.

Mr Ex: Hello, hey how are you? (I see him once in a while, but really, I am not THAT familiar with this guy)

Me: Not bad. (increasingly befuddled) Er, what's up?

Mr Ex: Eh, you recognized me?

Me: (getting even more befuddled) Of course la, your number is in my phonebook what. What's up?

Mr Ex: Nah I'm just waiting to get in some event blah blah blah (I honestly lost track of what he was saying regarding this -- not my fault). Saw your number in my phonebook thought I'd just give you a call. Where are you?

Me: At home. Just chilling out.

Mr Ex: Just wondering how you're doing. Haven't seen you in ages.

Me: Didn't I just see you a few weeks back?

Mr Ex: Eh, where got? It's been months!

Me: Eh, ya ka, okay, my memory's pretty useless anyway. Oooo. Months?

Mr Ex: Yeah, I haven't seen you in ages. So what are you doing now? Are you at your Shah Alam home? Still studying?

(at this point I started to giggle rather uncontrollably)

Me: Are you sure you know who you called or not?

Mr Ex: Yeah I'm sure (voice full of sure-ness)

Me: Sure? Really?

Mr Ex: (at this point, seeds of doubt, although rather untimely, have began to sprout) Uhhm.

Me: (still giggling)

Mr Ex: Oh no this is not who I thought it is, is it?

Me: Haha! Hahahahahahaha!

Mr Ex: Oh goodness do you have any idea how embarassed I am right now?

Me: (still laughing cruelly) Do you feel like melting into the ground? Heheheheee.

Mr Ex: I wish I am! I wish I am!

Me: (laughing has gone out of control).

love is hell

2004-09-23T17:05:00.000+08:00

I just want to mark this day here, for reasons known only to myself and very few people. So that I will not forget.

Have a lovely evening, people.

...before you drive me insane

2004-09-21T16:22:00.000+08:00

By the end of this project I would've mastered the zen art of restraint when it comes to strangling clients.

And now my more senior colleague has been telling me of her nightmare stories from another client, and how she can't stay with the project till next year, and she's looking for another person to hand this over to, and she's been VERY detailed.

I have a feeling....I have a feeling....

Why do I get all the nasties??!!

******

Alicia Keys' seductive breathy voice has been replaced by Chris Cornell's macho rippling vocals for my (seemingly longer these days since dad is hitching a ride) drive to work. It was raining really badly last night, my feet were all blistered because of the company walkathon event earlier that evening (and out of sheer ego me and CMG refused to wear proper sports attire. Like, c'mon man, it's only a stupid walk! We don't need to dress all-sporty for the occasion! Yup, VERY good thinking, especially after 3 kilometres or so in the wrong shoes.), eh what was my point, oh point where are you, oh yeah, it rained heavily just after I got back to my car (relief!), traffic was unsurprisingly bad and slow, I was dead tired, moody (what else is new) and all blister-ey, and somehow Chris Cornell fitted perfectly into the scene.

I kept rewinding for Getaway Car and Last Remaining Light and it felt, even for a brief moment, lasting during these songs, like my world is alright again.

******

Really looking forward to see F tonight. But will have to cancel the other thing. We'll see.

hm

2004-09-17T09:37:00.000+08:00

Sometimes I really think I can go mad. But the moment I admit this realization, I will also realize that I most probably won't, then realizing I most probably won't, drove me back to square one, which is thinking I'll really go mad, given enough time, given I give up. Then it would go back to wondering if I really give this up, what's the worst that can happen? And I would be pretty sure it's not madness. This duality of thoughts is getting really tiring. It's like trying to pacify two unrelenting demons, and you're not sure which one is of a lesser evil. Which one you can trust enough just to get by, and which one is out to get you for good. And you know both have some kind of an ulterior grand scheme for you. What's your grand masterplan, man? How do I know when I lose, and you win?

This morning I was close. To blowing it. I was driving, my thoughts, I was having the hardest time trying to escape it, and the traffic were getting to me. I felt like it would've been a right thing to do to just leave my car, in the middle of the road, and walk off. Even in my most clouded, haphazard moments I would know that such thing would be ridiculous, leaving your car in the middle of traffic, screaming obscenities to the sky if I wanted to be more dramatic (I doubt I would, even in my most clouded moments I have utter respect and humility for strangers, that overwhelms my own sickness, it is puzzling, but I think that is a good thing) but this morning I felt like it was very doable, and I wouldn't have thought I was losing it. In my head I had perfectly good reasons to do so, it was rightfully doable. Which was scary, because the most sure way to tell if you've completely lost it is when you honestly don't think you have. No crazy people, would, in their (right) minds, call themselves crazy, y'know?

Sometimes I'd feel like I'd trust anything. Realizing this, then, would turn me into an unforgiving skeptic. I don't want anyone telling me what to do. I don't know if I do this is out of spite, or just unwillingness. Then I'd realize it is so harrowingly hollow to have no one to listen to, even if you're spiteful, or unwilling, or an unforgiving skeptic. I'd realize I'd do almost anything for a bit of faith, even if it's a reluctant, fighting, questioning one.

Just tell me what to do, and make me believe you're right.

doppelganger

2004-09-16T11:44:00.000+08:00

S called earlier, telling me she found my name in her company's (my ex-sponsor company) email list, in the Corporate Planning Dept. I was thoroughly amused, although a client has informed me this before, asking if I was working with Corporate Planning, which resulted in me being completely bemused, but I thought she mistakenly read my name or something. Turns out I even have a valid email address there, S said. I was like, eh, try la call or send email to this address! But on second thought don't want la, what if someone replies or answers? That would be freaky.

Ex-sponsor company, when I got back from Melbourne, didn't bother call me in for interviews or orientation. I was the only graduate who, well, sort of fell through the cracks. They didn't even bother to give me a release letter. After six months I stopped bothering them in return.

Now, wow, I had two jobs and didn't even know it?

Now I demand my other paycheck!

******

*latest episode of Amazing Race 5 spoiler ahead, in case you didn't watch it last night*

My parents are away on a much-needed holiday, so it was just three of us, me, Bro and Sis at home last night. It was great. We caught the latest episode of Amazing Race, Bro was rooting for the bowling moms, I was rooting for the models, and sis was rooting for Chip & Kim. Me and Sis collectively hate Colin's guts, and have managed to persuade Bro that he should too. So we were screaming madly and joyously when Chip used the yield on Colin, and just deliriously relished watching Colin simmering in anger and unable to do a damn thing about it. We panicked when it turned out Chip was having trouble putting together the car parts, and he was left behind just about when Colin was about to catch up, me and Sis were sooooo worried that Colin might just go bash Chip up at the workshop. Suspense weh.

I said Chip might have to spend the rest of his life looking over his shoulder, even after Amazing Race is over, Colin's look when he got yielded...man...it was quite scary. Then we laughed some more when Colin and Christie was having such a hard time with the buffalo, then Colin got so frustrated he was about to cry then Christie just picked the rope thing they were supposed to find in the ploughing field, "oh, here it is". It was with sheer and utter joy we laughed at Colin's incompetence.

We were screaming our heads off when the last two teams were racing to the destination point, they kept us guessing till the last minute. And it was the models who got 3rd! This means Colin got 4th and shall be rightfully eliminated! I was laughing like a mad woman at this point. Sis clapped out of sheer relief and excitement. We were all delirious.

Turned out it was 'one of the four predetermined non-elimination point'???!!! WTF????!!! FOUR????!!! I thought there were only THREE???!!! Colin's back in???!!!! What the hell was the whole entire episode for then????!!! After all that drama!!! Everyone's back to square one!!

Screams in the house again. Amazing Race producers!! Bastards!!

******

Then I told Bro to go get us some Snickers ice cream at 7-11. He came back with Maltesers, and we all enjoyed it in front of CSI Miami and collectively agreed that Horatio was a bit of a show-off and Grissom was better. Then Bro went out to see his girlfriend (since parents are not home), Sis was scared to be left alone downstairs so we plodded rather bemusedly through NYPD Blue. I told her I can never really understand NYPD Blue, there are just too many people in it. Bro was still not back after NYPD Blue (of course), Sis wanted me to stay through Just Shoot Me because she wanted to watch it, but my eyelids said no.

eeeff i eeinnt got youuuu

2004-09-16T09:57:00.000+08:00

Realized I haven't smoked for about a week (yay!), so it was soooooooo good when I got to go out for a smoke with MA just now (haha, so close...). She teman-ed me for breakfast at mamak earlier, because I forgot to bring my bread (can no longer stand mamak food, only go there out of sheer necessity or for drinks, also the mamak like to give me unsolicited lectures on why it's not good to eat garlic naan everyday, so I'm revoking my once-loyal patronage), we just gossiped and got to catch up. Realized I haven't really talked to her for like, weeks, even when we're in the same office, things were just too hectic the last few weeks. So it was always fun to get to harp on our favourite topic PEOPLE WHO ARE SO BLATANTLY OBVIOUSLY LESS COMPETENT THAN US HOW DID THEY EVEN GOT HIRED THE FIRST PLACE. Among other things, such as INTERESTING NEW GUY AT WORK WHO SEEMED SOOO GAY BUT IS PUZZLINGLY MARRIED (I was supposed to meet this guy yesterday during a meeting but I didn't go -- so no, I haven't met him to conduct my fair, unbiased assessment), also CERTAIN UNFAVOURITE PEOPLES AND WHY I NEVER WANT TO WORK WITH HER/HIM AGAIN AND PITY THOSE WHO HAVE TO. Also another favourite topic WHY DO THESE PEOPLE ALWAYS WANT TO KNOW IF YOU'RE GOING OUT WITH SOMEONE CAN'T THEY MIND THEIR OWN BUSINESS, this interspersed with EH DID SOMEONE JUST BREAK UP WHY HOW OH NO. And she promised she'd play futsal (finally -- I've long given up on her) next week.

MA: Don't kick me, but I think that guy you went out with for awards night, you two, very compatible la...

Me: Yeah? My parents thought so too. (we both grin knowingly)

MA: Why not man, you should go for it! (grin knowingly some more)

Me: I plan to bring him to other office-related events. (grin grin grin)

SW, take note!

******

Boss is away, annoying client is away, so I get to goof off full-time today.

(Well at least that was my plan before JJ barged in with "The graphics! He wants more pizzazz!")

Grr. I'll give him more pizzazz.

******

Feeling quite good today. Kept smiling to Alicia Keys while in the car. Guy in front car must've thought weirdly of me. Or that I was hitting on him.

Alicia Keys makes me think sexy thoughts. Hmmmmm. *grin*

sparks - coldplay

2004-09-14T09:01:00.000+08:00

Sometimes when life feels increasingly, insurmountably, difficult, despite all physical evidence pointing to the contrary, what do you do? At times I wish I'm less good at hiding things (and sometimes this wish is granted, I know), but if anything I've learnt out of this, no good comes out of dwelling on things and making it obvious you're crippled in some way. Drop and go. Rinse and never repeat, hopefully.

There are certain things I desperately want to remember, but the more I try, the more elusive the memory is, like unruly eels. How, exactly, did I get out of this the last time? I'm desperately trying to remember what words, what thoughts, what tools that got me through this the last time. But eels shall be eels. Eels make you ill. Eels make you want to take pills.

How did I become so forgetful? I think, vaguely remembering, when I was ok, I promised myself I'll never forget how. I even wrote it, somewhere. I was confident of my own well-being, I threw away my first aid kit, my 5-year warranty card, way too soon. But I honestly thought forgetting was a good thing. I always maintain, the mind should be applauded not for its ability to remember, but for its capacity to forget. It's amazing how much one can suffer just for remembering too much.

I realized last night (and this realization has struck me again and again), that I never, never want to be alone. It filled me with some kind of insane fear, the thought of having to be alone. It makes me feel so, groundless. Even when being with people seems to require more effort these days, more than reasonable sanity would warrant, but being alone scares me immensely. These days I'm so scared of being with myself, afraid of what I'll do or slip into. If I'm alone I'm cut off from the world, there's no thread to hold me back. But when I'm with people, at least I feel like I can hitch a stand on their sensible ground.

It's not exactly intimacy I'm looking for, although of course it would've been nice to have a demon-slaying, Prozac-dispensing boyfriend and such, and to know that someone cares enough to slay demons and steal drugs for you, really, but I don't know if I'm ever able to return the gesture. Sickness, of whatever kind, makes you selfish. All I want is to get better. I can try to love you back in the meantime, but I doubt I'll be fair. My mind's on other things. You're just a decoy, a useful distraction. Is that good enough?

she drinks the champagne dream...

2004-09-13T08:29:00.000+08:00

CMG cut me a mix CD, a lovely mix of folkey-rock things, which has probably kept me sane at the office, where things were getting a little too hectic and heated. I didn't get why he had to convert the songs back to .cdda format and waste so much CD space, when they were all mp3s on his PC to begin with anyway. Then he didn't rename the files properly, so my iTunes will only display Tracks 1...13, leaving me trying to figure out who sings this lovely song about someone named Jimmy Brown or Ginger or some other person (I don't trust my own hearing).

Anyway, the highlights:

i) Brick Ben Folds -- she's a brick and I'm drowning slowly... -- suburban melancholia encapsulated. Love and the ironic desperate loneliness resulting from that. Makes you wonder what the hell's the point. Makes me cringe thinking I've been there.

ii) Leaving on a Jet Plane Chantal Kreviazuk (I'm sure I'm spelling this wrongly) -- makes me want to go somewhere, or wait for someone coming from somewhere. Longing airport/bus station thoughts.

iii) I Will Survive Cake -- heheh. This song makes me smile. So bitter and comedic. Of course you can only see the comedic bit if you're no longer bitter.

iv) Momentum Aimee Mann -- she's my other Fiona Apple.

v) Sweet, Sweet Nothing (or something like that) -- I have no idea who sings this, or what its actual title is. The guy sings it a bit purposely off-tunely, very casual but intense at the same time, and I love it.

Looks like a long week ahead.

wednesday or monday?

2004-09-01T17:19:00.000+08:00

Needing a break from staring at flowcharts I have the slightest clue about.

Long weekend was quite good, if one's measure of good-ness is the amount of hours you spend going out, the number of people you see and interact in the given span of time, the number of people you have to cancel on, the number of new acquaintances you make. Obviously, these are the right problems to have. It's ridiculous to complain. So I'm not going to.

******

Question: what if, hmm let's see, about 9 years of experience, going through what you thought was the darkest moments of your life, and all this while what got you through is the notion that you've seen the worst and it didn't kill you, and suddenly all this experience, now, becomes meaningless. Unreusable for survival purposes. What do you do?

9 years. I'd panic. Panic like hell.

******

*I wish this was really a monologue*

A: are you happy?

B: I should be. Really I should. It's ungrateful not to be. But I'm not too bothered about not being happy. Currently my priority is normalcy. Normalcy is good enough. Happiness, and those other fancy things, can wait, and will follow. Even if they don't I probably won't be too heartbroken about it.

a lifetime of temporary relief

2004-08-26T09:06:00.000+08:00

Had a long talk with F last night. I didn't know I was able to tell her that much. I didn't expect I had that much to say in the first place. I initially chose not to, this was to be a quick dinner, skimming the subject, skipping questions with some other distraction, anything but. I don't know how to tell anyone anymore. That's a skill I chose to neglect for years, only brought to life only by the most dire necessity. But she was gentle and persistent. She didn't let up. I was mostly incoherent and redundant, but she seemed to understand most of it, or at least the significant bits. People around us were eavesdropping, but after a while I stopped caring.

Most of all, she didn't judge.

In my head everything's just a strange, persistent buzz, but once put in words, sentences, conversations, they seem to be detached of their relentless assignations, mischievious children being let into the world, just barely grazing the night air, just only slightly tarnishing it with their scent. Just slightly, and it was probably by my own conjuring. Everywhere else, the world did not fall apart. I did not get struck by lightning. It didn't snow. It's all just in my head. I must remember this.

I'm not 100% okay, probably I'll never be. But today I feel like I stand a chance. Though I'm not too sure at what. But that is good enough for now. Things are moving with greater ease.

I know I haven't written here for quite some time. For those who asked, I really do appreciate you guys asking. It was getting hard to write, and I don't wish to sound genuinely depressed entry after entry. I don't really want this blog to turn into something too dark.

Just as a recap, for those who asked and partly to remind myself, here's roughly what I've been up to the last few weeks:

i) I turned 24
ii) amused parents and friends (and ourselves) with my poseur date at awards night
iii) somehow think have placated parents' worry, a bit
iv) not that I really care
v) went to Victoria Station for first time ever in life (courtesy of A, "you've never beeen to Victoria Station before????" cue shock horror incredulous face/shriek)
vi) bawled my eyes out at The Beautiful Boxer screening, much to uncrying, cold-hearted friends' bewilderment
vii) appointed as team manager for CMG's football team, which I'm quite sure will lose. I thought all I had to do was email people and tell them what to wear to the pitch (which I just did).
viii) meeting/celebrating/cancelling on various people. (sorry to those I cancelled on! will make up to you soon.)
ix) assigned new project at work
x) watched an uncharacteristic amount of sports with Mom.

(past) tense

2004-08-03T14:25:00.000+08:00

The art of losing one's mind, I remember now, after so many years of reliable, kind forgetfulness, is more akin to a sunset than a lightning. It crept on you indiscernibly, no telling where it clearly started, under the guise of an overcast day. You can only measure the severity of a sunset, when it is done. It is night. It is too late. You hope tomorrow you're more careful.

I should keep reminding myself: there is no such thing as a clean slate.

The mind becomes so cruel, so unbearably cruel, when it ~~does not~~ cannot discriminate.

coffee & tv

2004-07-30T17:10:00.000+08:00

Because I'm moving to make a mess of another desk in the office next week.

Have a Nice Day - Stereophonics

2004-07-30T14:52:00.000+08:00

Lunch in Megamall with N. N wanted to go to Hush Puppies sale in Armada but I had an uncharacteristic feeling of already owning too many shoes. So full and sleepy. Think I'll just goof off today. G4 is looking heavier now compared to before lunch, so I'll postpone moving my stuff to Monday.

Date crisis for awards night resolved. SW is an absolute, gorgeous darling. He'll be driving down from the East Coast for that weekend (SW: if you're reading this, know that I owe you at least one fancy dinner - and I don't mean the one at awards night). My parents will be doubly intrigued and impressed. N thinks I should wear a gown. I said I'm not bloody Little Bo Peep.

Think I'm catching some bug from MA, she's all sniffley at her desk and I'm beginning to feel the slightest trace of headache. If this is her idea of a parting gift...

Have a sniffle-free weekend, lovely people.

ch-ch-change

2004-07-29T17:12:00.000+08:00

I am formally retransferred back to my former team. So here's goodbye to the glamorous life (haha) of Corporate Comm(unists), I'm back to rejoin the Geek Squad.

Have picked out a new strategically-angled workstation, and this one comes with a view!

Of the mad traffic below. Still.

MA is pretending to be furious, but she knows I'm getting antsy in Corp Comms. Will miss having her next to my desk, but we'll manage the heartbreak. Hard and ugly as it is. She'll recover. We both will. In due time.

Sob. (haha! padahal pindah bilik sebelah je.)

Shall move stuff tomorrow.

ps: will be in same room with CMG. Hmm.

suits you wear to lounges

2004-07-28T09:21:00.000+08:00

My CEO and JJ are away on a business trip today. Two birds with one stone. I have mobilized semi-competent asassins to the East Coast.

Just crashed very early last night, and woke up extremely dreading waking up, decided I'd come in late today and took my own sweet time getting ready for work. Even ironed shirt, which even to an untrained eye would be obvious that it made no difference. Mom was amused that I was (very) late. Or maybe that I was ironing.

Ahh day looks so lovely. Days like this I'm amazed how much good sufficient sleep can do to your mood.

Invites for awards night came in the mail yesterday. I haven't told my parents about it so Dad was quite surprised, I guess. He seemed eager to go, kept giggling to himself, I don't know why. (Note to self: must have a talk with parents about refraining themselves from opening my mail). There was one invitation card for my parents, and one for myself. On mine it says 'Ms xxx xxx xxx & partner'. Argh. This is unnecessary stress.

Also must shop for a new lounge suit. Whatever that may be.

*** ***

On an irrelevant note, reminded of a conversation I had with a friend last week, who said he preferred my old journal.

People change, people change, that's what I like to tell myself.

*** ***

Seriously thinking of getting a laptop. The non-kinky kind.

slaveslaveslave.

2004-07-27T01:35:00.000+08:00

It's 1.35 am and I am still at the office.

hmm.

2004-07-26T16:50:00.000+08:00

An ex-affair asked me a question last week, which if I was asked this last year, the answer might have been entirely different.

Is good to know I can put some things to end.

save me - Aimee Mann

2004-07-26T15:29:00.000+08:00

Is it ~~possible~~ ~~healthy~~ sane to think that you're in love with a TV character? I'm beginning to find myself thinking about this certain TV character all the time, which is already such a 12-year-old thing to do, but the more disturbing bit is that the act of thinking about this certain TV character actually keeps me calm, clears my head, makes the day look less dreary etc etc...as if this is a real person. Sometimes I'd even get a bit giggly. My.

I wonder if it's getting obvious. Earlier today while we were puffing away whining about work and bitching about other people at work, and MA asked about this awards night that I'm supposed to be attending, initially we sort of planned to bring some friends and crash the party, but I found out later they have limited my invitees list to:

i) 2 parents (what if, due to some strange, Bold-&-Beautiful family drama, I have 3?)
ii) 1 SPOUSE

Cried to MA where do I find a spouse in three weeks???. This is a question I've been racking my head over the last few days. If I ask a guy friend to come, my parents would be unnecessarily intrigued. If I ask a girl friend to come, my parents would be unnecessarily distressed. Argh.

MA told me maybe I should ask consultant guy, Z, to come to awards night. He asked me out to lunch last Friday, but I couldn't because I JUST ABSOLUTELY LOVE MY WORK I COULDN'T TEAR MYSELF AWAY (stupid deadline). He made me promise we'd go for lunch next time. Z has this lovely sonorous voice, he told me he used to do voice-overs for business videos, or some stuff like that.

Then MA asked, a little out of a sudden, are you seeing someone? I said nope. That answer was a bit too quick, she said. Then I just sort of giggled. I'm blaming the nicotine.

ps: which brings CMG to mind. A colleague told me she's seen CMG with a girl, who we shall assume as his girlfriend. This piece of information is ruining my research almost completely. I've been operating under the assumption that he's gay, I have a very strong hunch about this, and I'm usually correct. So now that he's probably straight, this puts everything in a rather confusing, awkward context. And now he's behaving a little weird with me. Should I read much into this?

******

Still, lovely dreamy thoughts over a certain TV character. Sigh.

boohoohoo

2004-07-26T11:26:00.000+08:00

I have shit for willpower.

Two fags and still finishing my coffee. (Hehe I love double entendres.)

More awake now.

monday monday monday

2004-07-26T10:04:00.000+08:00

Ahh. Fresh, lovely, prospective beginning of a new week full of prosperous promises. Birds are chirping, squirrels are scampering, and the sun is all nicely glowy, but not too much to the point of burning your right arm while driving. Just adequately glowy and nice. Feels all refreshed to brave new exciting challenges life may bring this week. Have gracefully and cheerfully let other drivers cut into lane with nary the slightest inclination to slice their throats. Only had to resist inclination to wave at them merrily back, wishing them safe travel to their destination. All is fine and merry.

******

Actually, very sorely tempted to have second tall huge overflowing mug of coffee. Been staring at cigarettes but keep having flashing mental images of decaying complexion and crusty rotting lungs.

Ok, shall practice some semblance of willpower. Going to go make coffee.

soopermodeldaughteryes

2004-07-21T15:25:00.000+08:00

Still no word on proof-of-concept. I'll take this as my cue to cabut early and catch my Keira tonight.

Mom's operation went ok, she was throwing up a lot post-surgery, due to the morphine I think (Fip: does morphine cause this?), but other than that she seems to be coping alright. She's a trouper. Came back home Monday. No weird post-surgery-depression-menopausal-like symptoms yet.

Although last night she did something weirdly sweet, she knocked on my room, asking if I was asleep yet, I wasn't, I thought aiyah does she want me to go find food in the middle of the night, but then she told me Gilmore Girls was on at the moment (she knows this is my favourite show, but I don't watch it anymore since it's on channel 8), which I can only watch from tv in her room (main tv in living room is connected to Astro and it is simply beyond my competency to figure out how to set the thing to channel 8). She hasn't done this in... ages.

So we just sat on her bed and watched Gilmore Girls, until my grandma came upstairs and asked if she can watch Samarinda because Dad has conquered the tv in the living room to watch his wrestling.

Haha. Oh well.

smoky smokerson the sequel

2004-07-21T09:19:00.000+08:00

Actually bought my first pack of cigarettes instead of just bumming from colleagues every time. Marlboro Menthols. Lights. This is a momentuous day, gloriously marking another step down for my health.

Feeling a bit tired and jittery. You know when you feel like you're just a container of buzzing, wildly vibrating molecules, encapsulated, kept in form, only by a thin gelatinous coating that's your skin? Stayed back quite late last night and managed to get the proof-of-concept done. They better be bloody impressed. So today I might get to lepak a bit while waiting for their say on things.

Been listening to CMG's Aimee Mann's Bachelor No. 2 all week. Feel very reluctant to return it even though I've ripped all the songs. I just love this bit from this one song, Deathly:

Now that I’ve met you
Would you object to
Never seeing each other again
Cause I can’t afford to
Climb aboard you
No one’s got that much ego to spend

So don’t work your stuff
Because I’ve got troubles enough
No, don’t pick on me
When one act of kindness could be
Deathly
Deathly
Definitely

Watching Keira Knightley prancing around in medieval leather midriff bikini-like thing tonight. I honestly think she'd make a hotter Legolas.

Sis' birthday today. I think I'll just give her some money.

oh doormat.

2004-07-19T18:27:00.000+08:00

Been assigned a new task with a deadline so ridiculous, a tabloid wouldn't have bought it. So no blogging till this gets done.

What's that Adidas/Nike/whatever new tagline? Impossible is nothing? That's my mantra this week.

Wish me luck and next month employment, have a lovely week everyone.

commune sense

2004-07-15T09:44:00.000+08:00

Txt marathon of moderate length with SW last evening. (Close friends know I'm not big on telephonic conversation, I have lousy hearing, and sometimes have to pretend I heard correctly what I'm sure I misheard, by then it's too late to ask the other party what she/he was saying without being rude, conversation ends with me putting down the phone not quite sure what the conversation was actually about. Or in worse cases -- this has happened -- not quite sure who actually called.)

Anyway, was telling SW I've been slightly moody the last few days. Obviously failing his Sensitive New Age Guy Test, he asked if it's the time of the month. Which come to think of it, is actually true. It's quite a relief to get to blame your hormones for such things, I do get inexplicably irritable and tired when it's about time to ride the cotton pony (feel free to add your own euphemism here). I think he knows something else is on my mind, he asked, (+5 points for Sensitive New Age Guy Test) but trying to detail the labyrinthine ongoings in the recesses of my psyche through mobile keypad felt like an arduous task.

(Just received strange phone call from Indonesian dude who claimed himself as Andi. No idea what he wants so I hung up. Been receiving a disconcerting amount of strange calls lately. Maybe I should enquire Digi about this.)

Aaaanyway. Tried to sum to SW how I'm feeling these days -- restless but tired -- fit for txt conversation. I nag myself annoyingly when I feel like I'm not doing enough. The rest of the world is having a ball out there, holding revolutions, planning a coup, I feel like I should be out there as well, doing, well, something. But I don't really feel like doing any of those things. I just want to feel content doing nothing, but this proves to be something of a difficulty. SW re-summed it better, in that sometimes-infuriatingly simplistic, practical way of his, if you don't feel like doing anything, then do nothing lah.

Makes sense. I hate it when he does that. Sounds like something I'd say to other people, though. It's just that when it comes to my own advice, I have lousy hearing.

******

Mom's being prepped for op today. I should call her in a bit.