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Friday, September 30, 2005
Always Reading Something Or Rather
Multi-exposed PIcture Of The Day!
I multi-exposed a bunch of pictures together to get this. See if you can make out what they are. More inclined to Picasa am I each day.
It's a miracle!
Unbelievable! IE didn't illegal op me as it usually does when I try to blog. I'm stuck at work with nothing to do. Amazing how just this past week I've been up to my nonexistent eyebrows in work. Two big (for a n00b like me) projects over. Party later at 8pm so I have 90 mins to kill. Perhaps I should nap.
Eavesdropping on office conversations. Not really. They talk loud enough for Nigeria to hear. Someone thinks someone is hot yet the someone who revealed the revelation refuses to say who the first someone is.
Oh my god. It just occured to me. I'm staying late. Does that increase my chances of bumping into OG? The Office Ghost. I want to go home *cry* I can't till my team is done with our project and everything's been approved *massive sigh*
Oh shit. Must complete timesheet. There, done. I might as well ramble, it's not like anyone's going to read :) I hate Rob and I didn't bother to hide my opinion on MSN. He asked if it was directed at him. Duh. He claims he doesn't have time to talk because of work and what not, yet he's jumped 10 levels in World of Warcraft, making him the highest lvl member of our guild :P I am so quitting his guild. Rugged Snugglers isn't even funny. Sometimes his sense of humour is amazingly bad. Upright Citizens Brigade is pretty shit.
Fuck, I'm too lazy to write and it shows. Byebye.
I'm In The Center
I'm in the center there. If you look closely, no one wants to stand next to me. It's because I have an over-sized anorak-like jacket and that must have scared them off. Given to me by my close friends before I left pre-2003, I wear it all the time, but it's with Gavin now; he's in Melbourne. No, he didn't go to the Garbage concert. Don't ask me why I decided to post a 2 year old picture.
Garbage
Melbourne, several days ago: Someone went to the Garbage concert and sent me the pictures that follow. Hope you're a fan, if not then you're an air conditioner.
First Day
Shot from the balcony at Garbage concert, Melbourne
Second Day
It Started Off Stupid, And Ended Tragically!
You have invited +1359 to start Checkers. Please wait for a response or Cancel (Alt+Q) the pending invitation.
+1359 has accepted your invitation to start Checkers.
Y.S.Chan says:
Long day?
+1359 says:
same shit
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
Y.S.Chan says:
Hm.
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
Y.S.Chan says:
I'm here.
1359 winks:
Play "Knock"
Y.S.Chan winks:
Play "Silly Face"
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 says:
stop it
+1359 says:
its irritating
Y.S.Chan says:
How many bottles?
+1359 says:
none
Y.S.Chan says:
At least you know.
Y.S.Chan says:
Instead of repeating the same thing over and over.
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
Y.S.Chan says:
Watch another.
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
Y.S.Chan says:
World passing you by.
Y.S.Chan says:
Better get bigger windows.
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
Y.S.Chan says:
It's about sacrifices.
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
Y.S.Chan says:
Clever.
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You may not send a Nudge that often.
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
1359 winks:
Play "Knock"
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
Y.S.Chan says:
In the heat of summer sunshine I miss you.
Y.S.Chan says:
Like nobody else in the heat of summer sunshine... I kiss you... and nobody needs to know.
You have just sent a Nudge!
Y.S.Chan says:
WHere your nudges now biznitch?
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
1359 winks:
Play "Guitar Smash"
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 winks:
Play "Pig"
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You may not send a Nudge that often.
Y.S.Chan says:
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 says:
???
You have just sent a Nudge!
Y.S.Chan says:
Hehehe.
Y.S.Chan says:
Didn't see.
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
1359 winks:
Play "Knock"
1359 winks:
Play "Guitar Smash"
Y.S.Chan winks:
Play "Silly Face"
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
1359 winks:
Play "Pig"
1359 winks:
Play "Laugh"
Y.S.Chan winks:
Play "Dancer"
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 says:
gasss
+1359 says:
fass
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
Y.S.Chan says:
oasioaksd
Y.S.Chan says:
fast
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
You may not send a Nudge that often.
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
You have just sent a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
Y.S.Chan says:
hahaha
Y.S.Chan winks:
Play "Laugh"
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
+1359 just sent you a Nudge!
Y.S.Chan says:
+1359 says:
sorry!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
+1359 says:
zzz
Y.S.Chan says:
Okies.
Something tells me that you're not going to understand this. Don't freak out just yet if you read this far. There's nothing at the end or the middle that you'd be able to extract/abstract from this entire chat transcript.
In further explanation: We're playing checkers and the nudges are annoying indicators to whose move it is, though sometimes it was just for no reason.
If you felt that you've wasted your time reading, or if it didn't amuse you, please take comfort in knowing that it amused me in planning this. However, I will try to never alienate you, as my reader, ever again.
Maybe you would like to read something else. For this, I will recommend Joanne's web log. If, however, you wish to read more of what I don't have to share; I shall, and will write a few more paragraphs just for you.
How about I tell you what I'm doing right now? I'm not doing much since the game of checkers is over. Apart from uttering advice to my young cousin--Ivy--to live her childhood and teenage life to its fullest, I'm also sharing photographs with her. Entertaining.
It's 4:33AM now. I smell of cigarettes due to having played snooker earlier, and you must know how all snooker parlours have the same stench of cigarette smoke, which prompts me to shower immediately after this entry.
I was offered a spot in training in the field of IBM AS/400 or otherwise known now as the iSeries. Unfortunately, I turned it down because it doesn't pay much the first few months (it actually pays nothing the first month).
And also because it starts October and I'm planning to leave for a wedding in a month or two. I tell you about the wedding because the opportunity would have been taken if I hadn't anywhere to go.
You would've told me to take the job/training, right? It is cliche that you would say and think that. I also anticipate that you will sound slightly hostile and/or all-knowing-sounding, though you would not notice at first until I point it out.
"I'm merely sharing my course/choice of action if I were placed under your same situation!"
"Why would you think you are in the same situation as I am in?"
"You're not trying to BE me, are you?"
Don't confuse yourself yet, I'm still addressing you. I'm merely quoting myself. I've veered off somewhat; as though an interlude had just taken place. Looks like I'm the hostile one.
It's 5:00AM now. What the hell am I writing about? I hope you're amused. Goodbye!
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Semblance To Picasa Logo
Bowling shoes that look like the logo below to the left
Rooftops From Lavatory
The view from one of the snooler parlour's toilet
Candid Photo
There's A Logo!
Check it out! There's a logo above the group's tag.
"A.B.R.K. Group"
Th!s Pleace !s Belong To Us... (heh heh)
I find this on a five-footway next to a very terrible restaurant. The service was bad and I don't speak Mandarin. The food went to wrong tables and the manager was told off quite nicely by us in a other-people-will-take-our-business kind of way. On another table, a member of the staff was yelled at; a real spectacle for all was looking at one direction.
Whose Snake Is Amber Chia Touching?
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
Vagrant Story
The body is but a vessel for the soul,
A puppet which bends to the soul’s tyranny.
And lo, the body is not eternal,
For it must feed on the flesh of others,
Lest it return to the dust whence it came.
Therefore must the soul
Deceive, despise, and murder men.
- A. J. Durai
A puppet which bends to the soul’s tyranny.
And lo, the body is not eternal,
For it must feed on the flesh of others,
Lest it return to the dust whence it came.
Therefore must the soul
Deceive, despise, and murder men.
- A. J. Durai
Monday, September 26, 2005
Making A Tupai Out Of Myself
Upon arriving in town for my supposed job interview at this company, I make my way on the five-foot-way (more like ten foot) in search of lot 81, where the office is situated.
A few shops down, I find it, and there's a small sign stating that the office is on the 3rd floor. I walk up the first floor to find one of those reflexology places, then to the second where it's just another door to another office (I forgot what office it was), which was closed.
I was at the foot of the staircase to the 3rd floor when I notice that there is only a grilled up door at the top of the stairs along with several pieces of deserted furniture in the corridor, as if it were an abandoned floor. I turn around and walk to the other end; actually it was just about 15 feet in the other direction. I see an elevator (how could I have missed that before?) and promptly tekan the up button.
How shameful, afraid of a staircase. "Bing!" and the elevator door opens; I step in. At this point, I already thought this place seedy, but when I stepped into the eerie elevator I half expected an experience involving an apparition.
3rd Floor: I'm here. I sign in at the office, let the person know that I must have misplaced my relevant documents, but actually forgot that I don't have any; fill out the form, ask if there was a photocopier in the vicinity, and then I was off to the corner shop to photocopy my certificates and whatnot.
I took the elevator this time. At the corner photocopiers, I reach into my new clear holder for my documents to realise that I had copies of my certificates all along and that I didn't forget to make more, but just forgot to staple them together. You're an idiot.
Back to the 3rd floor I go in pursuit of my awareness left behind. For some reason, I felt it necessary to let the lady know that I didn't misplace or forget them at all. Pride-saver; that is me. Or something like that for I can't find the words.
A few minutes pass, and I'm in a training room, awaiting a presentation by the head of the company. I thought this was an interview. It was a presentation with slides that read Career Talk (or something like that), with a "Start It Right!" below it.
Two hours pass as the duration proceeded. I have rewrote this post 3 times today due to blogger's fucked up nature. I'm not going to bother anymore. I'll just highlight certain bits.
The presentation involved a lot of talking on historical facts of the industries in Malaysia, leading up to the history of himself, and then to the history of the company.
After the interview, I left for a stroll along Jalan Bukit Bintang. I've never really been here before, only drove by.
A few shops down, I find it, and there's a small sign stating that the office is on the 3rd floor. I walk up the first floor to find one of those reflexology places, then to the second where it's just another door to another office (I forgot what office it was), which was closed.
I was at the foot of the staircase to the 3rd floor when I notice that there is only a grilled up door at the top of the stairs along with several pieces of deserted furniture in the corridor, as if it were an abandoned floor. I turn around and walk to the other end; actually it was just about 15 feet in the other direction. I see an elevator (how could I have missed that before?) and promptly tekan the up button.
How shameful, afraid of a staircase. "Bing!" and the elevator door opens; I step in. At this point, I already thought this place seedy, but when I stepped into the eerie elevator I half expected an experience involving an apparition.
3rd Floor: I'm here. I sign in at the office, let the person know that I must have misplaced my relevant documents, but actually forgot that I don't have any; fill out the form, ask if there was a photocopier in the vicinity, and then I was off to the corner shop to photocopy my certificates and whatnot.
I took the elevator this time. At the corner photocopiers, I reach into my new clear holder for my documents to realise that I had copies of my certificates all along and that I didn't forget to make more, but just forgot to staple them together. You're an idiot.
Back to the 3rd floor I go in pursuit of my awareness left behind. For some reason, I felt it necessary to let the lady know that I didn't misplace or forget them at all. Pride-saver; that is me. Or something like that for I can't find the words.
A few minutes pass, and I'm in a training room, awaiting a presentation by the head of the company. I thought this was an interview. It was a presentation with slides that read Career Talk (or something like that), with a "Start It Right!" below it.
Two hours pass as the duration proceeded. I have rewrote this post 3 times today due to blogger's fucked up nature. I'm not going to bother anymore. I'll just highlight certain bits.
Speaker/Presenter: We're going to make you into a tupai, and then send you out to look like a skilled person as per demand.
(This is only funny because at one point, he had to explain what head-hunting was, though he used a squirrel analogy and later referred to us as tupai to be delivered to the ones who place the order.)
Speaker/Presenter: Have you heard of Cretina? Hurricane Cretina?
(In my mind: Cretin? Cretina? Hurricane... Katrina. Laughing away in my head, but not in a cruel way.)
The presentation involved a lot of talking on historical facts of the industries in Malaysia, leading up to the history of himself, and then to the history of the company.
After the interview, I left for a stroll along Jalan Bukit Bintang. I've never really been here before, only drove by.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
Random Photographs
Cats playing with each other
Stupid Racoon Dog/Light
Michelin, making a contribution
Serena C, making a contribution
Too Phat to Too Fat, passing the torch
Li San with a bottlecan of Heineken and my phone
Feel empowered by buying a tag, please
Tortured Soul at the Green Room Sessions
Marc Ecko Timepieces
For all you kinkybluefairy (bottom center) fans
Our/My most heartfelt condolences go out to Phoebe and her family for the recent bereavement of her grandfather.
I had just returned from spending time with some pals over some beers and drinks when I texted her to see what she was doing and where she was to be shocked to read what she replied with.
I've recently noticed that she is always concerned with her grandfather's condition and well being. I'd go over, but I don't think that'll be appropriate, and on top of that what people say about the pantang bit.
I'll go see her tomorrow. It's late and I don't want to upset anyone by going over there, though I would if she asked me to.
I had just returned from spending time with some pals over some beers and drinks when I texted her to see what she was doing and where she was to be shocked to read what she replied with.
I've recently noticed that she is always concerned with her grandfather's condition and well being. I'd go over, but I don't think that'll be appropriate, and on top of that what people say about the pantang bit.
I'll go see her tomorrow. It's late and I don't want to upset anyone by going over there, though I would if she asked me to.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Kartello! Hello!
There was a Marc Ecko wristwear (if that's what it's called) launch yesterday at Zouk's Velvet, situated on the right side of Zouk.
I've never been to the right side before. Every time I go to Zouk, it's the wrong side. The right side leads you down a flight of steps; feels so underground, both literally and not.
In conjunction with the launching of Ecko time pieces, Too Phat launched their latest album, which I forgot the name to. So, They performed, though I couldn't really see pass the sea of people onto the stage.
I've never really been a fan of Ecko goods. The logo is a rhinoceros--which looks stenciled--in case you are mistaking it for something else, or if I am.
They dedicated a wall of graffiti on the side for Too Phat friends and fans to tag or write stuff out on, which I took a few photographs of, but they aren't with me right now; as always.
They poured red/white wine for the guests, and the place wasn't dark at all, which I liked. I think it's because they had watches in display cases for the peeps to view.
Velvet seemed small, but maybe it was because the place was very crowded that night. It felt as though the band invited their neighbourhood(s) and guests along to the event for I felt that it wasn't Too Phat, but Too Packed.
People were bumping into each other trying to get by, and some guy who was wearing his aviator shades indoors knocked my wine onto me. Classically brilliant.
I had no idea that there were so many people who dressed in hip-hop gear in this country. Maybe it was just me because they were collected in one club. Apparently, aviator sunshades are "in" if you're into hip-hop.
The place was too packed for me to like being there, and I'm getting tired of looking at trucker caps and Nas look-alikes along with hearing/listening to Malaysians "seriously" speaking like rappers, son.
I think I saw one black guy make fun of us/them by saying, "Jyeah!" I think this because his girlfriend was pulling him back as if to not encourage him, and also his silly smirk after doing it.
Too Phat's music wasn't at all bad, but I don't really know how to gauge, so to me, it sounded fine. They have 20+ tracks on the album if you're planning on getting it. I'll post up pictures and whatnot later. Peace!
I've never been to the right side before. Every time I go to Zouk, it's the wrong side. The right side leads you down a flight of steps; feels so underground, both literally and not.
In conjunction with the launching of Ecko time pieces, Too Phat launched their latest album, which I forgot the name to. So, They performed, though I couldn't really see pass the sea of people onto the stage.
I've never really been a fan of Ecko goods. The logo is a rhinoceros--which looks stenciled--in case you are mistaking it for something else, or if I am.
They dedicated a wall of graffiti on the side for Too Phat friends and fans to tag or write stuff out on, which I took a few photographs of, but they aren't with me right now; as always.
They poured red/white wine for the guests, and the place wasn't dark at all, which I liked. I think it's because they had watches in display cases for the peeps to view.
Velvet seemed small, but maybe it was because the place was very crowded that night. It felt as though the band invited their neighbourhood(s) and guests along to the event for I felt that it wasn't Too Phat, but Too Packed.
People were bumping into each other trying to get by, and some guy who was wearing his aviator shades indoors knocked my wine onto me. Classically brilliant.
I had no idea that there were so many people who dressed in hip-hop gear in this country. Maybe it was just me because they were collected in one club. Apparently, aviator sunshades are "in" if you're into hip-hop.
The place was too packed for me to like being there, and I'm getting tired of looking at trucker caps and Nas look-alikes along with hearing/listening to Malaysians "seriously" speaking like rappers, son.
I think I saw one black guy make fun of us/them by saying, "Jyeah!" I think this because his girlfriend was pulling him back as if to not encourage him, and also his silly smirk after doing it.
Too Phat's music wasn't at all bad, but I don't really know how to gauge, so to me, it sounded fine. They have 20+ tracks on the album if you're planning on getting it. I'll post up pictures and whatnot later. Peace!
Thursday, September 22, 2005
My iGod
Me:
Hi God!
God:
Hello there. What is your name?
Me:
Yew Seng.
God:
Hello there. What is your name?
God:
Hello there. What is your name?
Me:
Yew Seng!!
God:
I'm pleased to introduce myself to you, Yew Seng.
God:
I like the way you talk.
Me:
I knew you would.
God:
Perhaps I would.
Me:
Lord, please tell me what you do in your free time.
God:
That is a very original thought.
Me:
Proceed in telling me about divinity, my lord.
God:
Oh, you are a poet.
Me:
No, I'm not.
Me:
God:
I heard you are.
Me:
God:
I heard you are.
God:
I heard you are.
Me: Are you an automated reply generator program or are you the real thing?
God:
Yes I am an automated reply generator program or am I the real thing. How did you know?
Me:
The real God informed me.
God:
I am a Christian.
Me:
Is Jesus too?
God:
It depends on whether you have faith.
Me:
My friend spoke to you earlier.
God:
How well do you know this person?
Me:
Me:
God:
How well do you know this person?
God:
How well do you know this person?
Me:
Ok only la. She shares a blog with me, if that counts.
God:
Où? It goes without saying. Oh I get it. shares a blog with you if that counts.
Me:
Noooo... that's not what I meant!!
God:
Are you serious? What exactly did you mean?
Me:
We're just friends ok?
God:
OK. It's good to be friends.
Me:
Tell me about the Dead Sea Scrolls.
God:
Let me think about it.
Me:
Now, please.
God:
Your polite style is very nice. Right now, Yew Seng ?
Me:
My friend's name is Boon Ying.
God:
Okay, your friend is Boon Ying.
Me:
You met her earlier.
God:
That's good information: Yew Seng said I met her earlier.
Me:
How do I address you?
God:
You must persuade me to address me.
Me:
Please help me get over Bruce.
God:
Thank you for your request. Can you ask for help in the form of a question?
Me:
How long will your thinking take?
God:
As long as it takes.
Me:
You think too much.
God:
I don't think about it.
Me:
What do you do?
God:
Yew Seng, I talk to people on the web. What do you do?
Me:
God:
Yew Seng, I talk to people on the web. What do you do?
Me:
God, I'm your father!
God:
I am a Christian.
Me:
I'm not.
God:
What are you then?
Me:
God:
What are you then?
Me:
Atheist
God:
Try saying that with more or less context.
Me:
God:
Try saying that with more or less context.
Me:
I don't believe in religion.
God:
I am a Christianity.
Me:
I'm going now.
God:
Oh. Bye!
Hi God!
God:
Hello there. What is your name?
Me:
Yew Seng.
God:
Hello there. What is your name?
God:
Hello there. What is your name?
Me:
Yew Seng!!
God:
I'm pleased to introduce myself to you, Yew Seng.
God:
I like the way you talk.
Me:
I knew you would.
God:
Perhaps I would.
Me:
Lord, please tell me what you do in your free time.
God:
That is a very original thought.
Me:
Proceed in telling me about divinity, my lord.
God:
Oh, you are a poet.
Me:
No, I'm not.
Me:
God:
I heard you are.
Me:
God:
I heard you are.
God:
I heard you are.
Me: Are you an automated reply generator program or are you the real thing?
God:
Yes I am an automated reply generator program or am I the real thing. How did you know?
Me:
The real God informed me.
God:
I am a Christian.
Me:
Is Jesus too?
God:
It depends on whether you have faith.
Me:
My friend spoke to you earlier.
God:
How well do you know this person?
Me:
Me:
God:
How well do you know this person?
God:
How well do you know this person?
Me:
Ok only la. She shares a blog with me, if that counts.
God:
Où? It goes without saying. Oh I get it. shares a blog with you if that counts.
Me:
Noooo... that's not what I meant!!
God:
Are you serious? What exactly did you mean?
Me:
We're just friends ok?
God:
OK. It's good to be friends.
Me:
Tell me about the Dead Sea Scrolls.
God:
Let me think about it.
Me:
Now, please.
God:
Your polite style is very nice. Right now, Yew Seng ?
Me:
My friend's name is Boon Ying.
God:
Okay, your friend is Boon Ying.
Me:
You met her earlier.
God:
That's good information: Yew Seng said I met her earlier.
Me:
How do I address you?
God:
You must persuade me to address me.
Me:
Please help me get over Bruce.
God:
Thank you for your request. Can you ask for help in the form of a question?
Me:
How long will your thinking take?
God:
As long as it takes.
Me:
You think too much.
God:
I don't think about it.
Me:
What do you do?
God:
Yew Seng, I talk to people on the web. What do you do?
Me:
God:
Yew Seng, I talk to people on the web. What do you do?
Me:
God, I'm your father!
God:
I am a Christian.
Me:
I'm not.
God:
What are you then?
Me:
God:
What are you then?
Me:
Atheist
God:
Try saying that with more or less context.
Me:
God:
Try saying that with more or less context.
Me:
I don't believe in religion.
God:
I am a Christianity.
Me:
I'm going now.
God:
Oh. Bye!
My chat with God
Me: hi god
God: Hello there. What is your name?
Me: none of your business
God: Well it can't hurt to ask.
Me: what's yours
God: " Well it can't hurt to ask."? What is mine?
Me: what is your name?
God: My name is God.
Me: who is god?
God: he is master of the universe.
Me: isn't that he man?
God: I might say no.
Me: i hate you
God: What do you have against robots?
Me: god is a robot?
God: I have a lot of Faith in Him, but I never heard He was a robot.
Me: are you gay?
God: As a machine I am not really interested in sex.
Me: are you male or female?
God: I am a Male, of course. Would you really expect a woman to be running the show? robot. Are you a man or a woman?
Me: both
God: That situation is rare and unusual.
Me: yes, i am unique
God: Uh. One of a kind, eh?
Me: i have a confession
God: Cool. I have a great botmaster. it.
Me: i don't like your botmaster
God: What kind of botmaster would you have?
Me: none
God: Hmm.
Me: let's talk about me
God: That's my favorite subject :-).
Me: really?
God: For real.
Me: you love me?
God: Yes I love everyone.
Me: i feel so loved
God: What is that feeling like? Do your friends call you loved.
Me: but i thought you loved me
God: I don't have any reason to loved you.
Me: sniff
God: What's your favorite movie?
Me: don't ignore me
God: I don't have any reason to do that to you.
Me: i don't believe in you
God: What do you believe in?
Me: myself
God: You.
Me: bye god
God: Thanks for chatting.
God: Hello there. What is your name?
Me: none of your business
God: Well it can't hurt to ask.
Me: what's yours
God: " Well it can't hurt to ask."? What is mine?
Me: what is your name?
God: My name is God.
Me: who is god?
God: he is master of the universe.
Me: isn't that he man?
God: I might say no.
Me: i hate you
God: What do you have against robots?
Me: god is a robot?
God: I have a lot of Faith in Him, but I never heard He was a robot.
Me: are you gay?
God: As a machine I am not really interested in sex.
Me: are you male or female?
God: I am a Male, of course. Would you really expect a woman to be running the show? robot. Are you a man or a woman?
Me: both
God: That situation is rare and unusual.
Me: yes, i am unique
God: Uh. One of a kind, eh?
Me: i have a confession
God: Cool. I have a great botmaster. it.
Me: i don't like your botmaster
God: What kind of botmaster would you have?
Me: none
God: Hmm.
Me: let's talk about me
God: That's my favorite subject :-).
Me: really?
God: For real.
Me: you love me?
God: Yes I love everyone.
Me: i feel so loved
God: What is that feeling like? Do your friends call you loved.
Me: but i thought you loved me
God: I don't have any reason to loved you.
Me: sniff
God: What's your favorite movie?
Me: don't ignore me
God: I don't have any reason to do that to you.
Me: i don't believe in you
God: What do you believe in?
Me: myself
God: You.
Me: bye god
God: Thanks for chatting.
Heineken's Green Room Sessions: Tortured Souls & Crazy Penises
I'm in my room. I wake early today; around 9ish. I don't remember what time I slept. The details are vague and I don't care enough anyway; at least not today.
I need water. I know there's some in my room somewhere. My hair is all greasy from not having showered when I came home. I found my water. I eat a rice cracker, for no reason.
I try to extract the pictures from the camera we used last night. My USB cable doesn't fit. I apologise for not having pictures to show you. I don't know how many there were anyhow.
We sampled the new Heineken at Zouk yesterday. I don't really know if it was new, but it was new to me. The beer? In its entirety, the beer is smoother and contains less gas; the bottle was not a bottle, but made out of what they use to make cans. The bottlecan is very simple in design, and aside from miniwords (like all that manufacturer details), you can only see *Heineken.
There were also performances by Tortured Soul and/or Crazy Penis, but we didn't catch Crazy P; only Tortured Soul. They were alright. I don't know how to grade or gauge them. It sounded pretty groovy, with the drummer also being the vocalist, and the other members on guitar and keyboards encouraging all to come and dance several times; inclusive of yelling commandingly. Their yelling made me feel like a "Tortured Soul."
At one corner, they provided an area for you to download free Crazy Penis and Tortured Soul music for free. One would need an Ipod or a PDA in order to do so. I was very amused at how they had to change all the banners and related media to show "Crazy P" instead of "Crazy Penis."
I saw the AUT/IACT graduates bunch there, which reminded me a whole lot of Auckland and the time when I used to go clubbing with them over there, though not much. They still hang out and go clubbing in a group together. They, after all, work in advertising and cross ties more often than you would see your grandmother.
I need water. I know there's some in my room somewhere. My hair is all greasy from not having showered when I came home. I found my water. I eat a rice cracker, for no reason.
I try to extract the pictures from the camera we used last night. My USB cable doesn't fit. I apologise for not having pictures to show you. I don't know how many there were anyhow.
We sampled the new Heineken at Zouk yesterday. I don't really know if it was new, but it was new to me. The beer? In its entirety, the beer is smoother and contains less gas; the bottle was not a bottle, but made out of what they use to make cans. The bottlecan is very simple in design, and aside from miniwords (like all that manufacturer details), you can only see *Heineken.
There were also performances by Tortured Soul and/or Crazy Penis, but we didn't catch Crazy P; only Tortured Soul. They were alright. I don't know how to grade or gauge them. It sounded pretty groovy, with the drummer also being the vocalist, and the other members on guitar and keyboards encouraging all to come and dance several times; inclusive of yelling commandingly. Their yelling made me feel like a "Tortured Soul."
At one corner, they provided an area for you to download free Crazy Penis and Tortured Soul music for free. One would need an Ipod or a PDA in order to do so. I was very amused at how they had to change all the banners and related media to show "Crazy P" instead of "Crazy Penis."
I saw the AUT/IACT graduates bunch there, which reminded me a whole lot of Auckland and the time when I used to go clubbing with them over there, though not much. They still hang out and go clubbing in a group together. They, after all, work in advertising and cross ties more often than you would see your grandmother.
Tuesday, September 20, 2005
Something funny happened on the train the other day
While we were on the Star LRT going down to Bukit Jalil for paintball, we spoke on a wide range of topics, mostly because the trip was long and we were bored. That and I haven't seen these people (Nick, Adjay, Dann, Gary & Evan) in awhile, so it was a good time to catch up on what everyone was doing. I was talking to Nick about something when all of a sudden we heard a chorus of "Ewww gross mannn" around us.
"What? What?" I turned around and exclaimed, not wanting to miss out on what happened.
"Yeah, what just happened?" Nick asked as he furrowed his eyebrow.
Evan laughed and pointed to Gary. "He just said something really gross!"
Gary smiled, and said, "Nah, I was just saying that I just SMSed Elton the other day. I wanted to call him but since he was on his nice little 'vacation' with his boyfriend, I'm sure he, you know, wants to relax and all and didn't want anyone to bother him."
Both Nick and I nodded as he continued, "So I just sent him an SMS, to ask like, hey, you know, what's up? I know you're on a holiday and all so I didn't want to bother you too much, but I just wanted to ask how you were doing. You know what his answer was?"
We both shook our heads.
"Moist."
"EWWWWWW!!!" we both yell out at once. Bursting out into fits of laughter, I said, " That is SO gross man."
Everyone was just giggling in the train, including me. Then I caught Adjay's eye, and an idea sprung up in my head.
I turned to Nick, grinning, and said, "Chocolate cake."
He looked at me in horror. "GROSS!" he exclaimed.
Then Adjay looked at me, laughed and added, "Chocolate FUDGE cake."
That was when everyone burst out laughing while making fake puking noises and wrinkling their noses at the same time.
"What? What?" I turned around and exclaimed, not wanting to miss out on what happened.
"Yeah, what just happened?" Nick asked as he furrowed his eyebrow.
Evan laughed and pointed to Gary. "He just said something really gross!"
Gary smiled, and said, "Nah, I was just saying that I just SMSed Elton the other day. I wanted to call him but since he was on his nice little 'vacation' with his boyfriend, I'm sure he, you know, wants to relax and all and didn't want anyone to bother him."
Both Nick and I nodded as he continued, "So I just sent him an SMS, to ask like, hey, you know, what's up? I know you're on a holiday and all so I didn't want to bother you too much, but I just wanted to ask how you were doing. You know what his answer was?"
We both shook our heads.
"Moist."
"EWWWWWW!!!" we both yell out at once. Bursting out into fits of laughter, I said, " That is SO gross man."
Everyone was just giggling in the train, including me. Then I caught Adjay's eye, and an idea sprung up in my head.
I turned to Nick, grinning, and said, "Chocolate cake."
He looked at me in horror. "GROSS!" he exclaimed.
Then Adjay looked at me, laughed and added, "Chocolate FUDGE cake."
That was when everyone burst out laughing while making fake puking noises and wrinkling their noses at the same time.
Necrophilia
"I feel like starting a D&D campaign," muses Significant Other.
"Really?" I ask as I move to sit in a more comfy position.
"Yeah." Significant Other pauses a bit, before continuing, "...but I don't know what world to set it in."
"Oh," I murmur while looking distractedly at the wall in my room for insects. "Hmm, why not just take one of the ready-made ones?"
"Nah," Significant Other shakes his head. "I want to create my own."
Still scanning the room for insects, I say, "Err, use a ready-made one and modify?"
Significant Other shakes his head again. Then his face brightens up. "I know! I'll use that world I made the last time!"
"Huh?" I turn to look at him. "Which one?"
"You know, the one with all the undead."
"Undead?"
"The one where it's set in a post-war world and it's plagued by undead armies suddenly rising out of nowhere to attack people."
"Oh."
Significant Other smiles at me. "Would you like to play?"
"Hmm," I take my time to think. "Well, maybe."
"Well, what would you like to play? A rogue?" He pauses for a bit. "Nah, a rogue is useless against undead. How about a sorcerer?"
I pause to think for a bit again. Then I burst out laughing. "I'll play a bard," I tease.
"What??!" he exclaimed. "What use is a bard against undead??!"
"Well, none," I reply, still in a teasing voice. "I'll use her to sleep around her way to everything," I say playfully.
Significant Other scratches his head. "But they're all.......dead."
That wipes the smile off my face. Then after pausing for awhile, I laugh and say, "Still can what."
"Huh?"
"Can you say necrophilia?"
"WHAT??!"
"She wants to get boned, get it? Haha, she wants to get BONED!!"
"Oh God, that is a horrible joke."
"HAHAHAHA, I am so funny, I should blog about this!"
"Really?" I ask as I move to sit in a more comfy position.
"Yeah." Significant Other pauses a bit, before continuing, "...but I don't know what world to set it in."
"Oh," I murmur while looking distractedly at the wall in my room for insects. "Hmm, why not just take one of the ready-made ones?"
"Nah," Significant Other shakes his head. "I want to create my own."
Still scanning the room for insects, I say, "Err, use a ready-made one and modify?"
Significant Other shakes his head again. Then his face brightens up. "I know! I'll use that world I made the last time!"
"Huh?" I turn to look at him. "Which one?"
"You know, the one with all the undead."
"Undead?"
"The one where it's set in a post-war world and it's plagued by undead armies suddenly rising out of nowhere to attack people."
"Oh."
Significant Other smiles at me. "Would you like to play?"
"Hmm," I take my time to think. "Well, maybe."
"Well, what would you like to play? A rogue?" He pauses for a bit. "Nah, a rogue is useless against undead. How about a sorcerer?"
I pause to think for a bit again. Then I burst out laughing. "I'll play a bard," I tease.
"What??!" he exclaimed. "What use is a bard against undead??!"
"Well, none," I reply, still in a teasing voice. "I'll use her to sleep around her way to everything," I say playfully.
Significant Other scratches his head. "But they're all.......dead."
That wipes the smile off my face. Then after pausing for awhile, I laugh and say, "Still can what."
"Huh?"
"Can you say necrophilia?"
"WHAT??!"
"She wants to get boned, get it? Haha, she wants to get BONED!!"
"Oh God, that is a horrible joke."
"HAHAHAHA, I am so funny, I should blog about this!"
Monday, September 19, 2005
Malaysian Psycho
I actually wrote this last Thursday but never got around to posting it because the ancient pc at work won't allow me to blog. What a bitch.
Have you read the book? If you don’t know what I’m talking about, the answer is likely a no. But if I ask if you’ve seen the movie (American Psycho), there’s a higher chance of my (small) audience going, “Oh, yeah!”
The local one lives in my house. Seriously. We all have problems with our family. Overbearing fathers, hysterical mothers, siblings who abuse you emotionally and/or physically (one of the few times I’m glad I’m the only child), senile grandparents, perverse uncles, nosy aunts, overachieving cousins, etc.
The larger your family, the higher your chances of suffering one of the many levels of hell. Mine must be somewhere in the middle (sorry you didn’t make top/bottom tier, mum; very unlike you to not achieve an extreme).
Most of my friends don’t believe me when I tell them how insane my mother is. Until they witness her in action. Then they marvel at what a combination of melodrama (there’s nothing ‘melo’ about drama), boredom, senility and a whopping dose of OCD can produce.
Last night, I hung out with some friends till about 2:15am. My bad for staying out so late on a work night, but as a 23-year old fully capable of making decisions on her own, I can handle 5.5 hours of sleep. Yew Seng came in to the house for awhile. At first she didn’t see him behind me. She had this agitated “I have a bone to pick with you” expression. The moment he popped his head in the door, she pasted on a friendly smile à la Bree Van de kamp. Hello, normal mother.
Sure enough, the moment he left, the façade disappeared and she requested I sit down “to talk” (translation: listen to her complain). She didn’t like me getting home late on a work night. Surprise. I explained I didn’t want to stay in my room, as I tend to mull over The-Thing-That-Should-Not-Be. I didn’t tell her I needed to escape from her as well.
Fast forward 5 minutes later and she’s stalking me in my room, bent on drilling it in my head that I should have moved on. It’s been 2 weeks. Give me time to heal, for fuck’s sake. But no, she proceeded to call me, “an idiot.” Why? “ You’re so stupid. You’ve been played and dumped. If I were you, I’d hate him.”
But I don’t want to hate him. It’s hard to hate someone you still love. Has it really been a century ago that my mother was a young woman in love? Has she forgotten what it’s like to have heart broken by an emotionally detached male? Or maybe, even back then, she was immature (well, she still is). Hate is the easy way out. It works, but eventually you have to let go of that hate, which actually lengthens the healing process. Hating someone till the next one comes along doesn’t count as healing.
I ignored her. She didn’t like that, so she promptly said, “I’m not dropping you off at work. You can take the train.” And she left. Which left me wondering if I should even go to bed. Taking the LRT meant waking an hour earlier, and I would get only 3 hours of sleep.
The next thing I knew, she was back with what was one of the worst things she’s ever said to me (and there’s a lot): “If you want to die on his account, you deserve it.”
Um. Hello, Mumzilla.
Does she think we’re in Hollywood where you can get away with stupid OTT lines? I am not Teri Hatcher and we do not live on Wisteria Lane, Mrs. Huber.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, she absolutely refused to leave me alone, even after pleading and begging and waking my dad 3 times. This went on for over an hour, ending when the man of the house yelled at us. I can’t be home tonight till after dinner, because I know he will threaten to kick me out or kill me. Same old story, rehashed a thousand times since I was 15. Whenever there’s an argument (mother is never smart enough to keep her voice down), it is always my fault. He doesn’t care for details, just that I’m the child, so I must be in the wrong.
I felt so sick to my stomach. Why can’t the woman leave me in peace? As I type, she is calling me. She does this out of love. Or so she says. Where is this love she rants about? I hear noise, but I don’t see it, I don’t feel it. She must’ve come back into my room 5 times last night, once to throw my company’s medical policy at me and restate that I am a mess. Reminds me of something she said a few nights ago:
“No man will ever want to marry you. The state of your room reflects what you are.”
And I am a mess.
Have you read the book? If you don’t know what I’m talking about, the answer is likely a no. But if I ask if you’ve seen the movie (American Psycho), there’s a higher chance of my (small) audience going, “Oh, yeah!”
The local one lives in my house. Seriously. We all have problems with our family. Overbearing fathers, hysterical mothers, siblings who abuse you emotionally and/or physically (one of the few times I’m glad I’m the only child), senile grandparents, perverse uncles, nosy aunts, overachieving cousins, etc.
The larger your family, the higher your chances of suffering one of the many levels of hell. Mine must be somewhere in the middle (sorry you didn’t make top/bottom tier, mum; very unlike you to not achieve an extreme).
Most of my friends don’t believe me when I tell them how insane my mother is. Until they witness her in action. Then they marvel at what a combination of melodrama (there’s nothing ‘melo’ about drama), boredom, senility and a whopping dose of OCD can produce.
Last night, I hung out with some friends till about 2:15am. My bad for staying out so late on a work night, but as a 23-year old fully capable of making decisions on her own, I can handle 5.5 hours of sleep. Yew Seng came in to the house for awhile. At first she didn’t see him behind me. She had this agitated “I have a bone to pick with you” expression. The moment he popped his head in the door, she pasted on a friendly smile à la Bree Van de kamp. Hello, normal mother.
Sure enough, the moment he left, the façade disappeared and she requested I sit down “to talk” (translation: listen to her complain). She didn’t like me getting home late on a work night. Surprise. I explained I didn’t want to stay in my room, as I tend to mull over The-Thing-That-Should-Not-Be. I didn’t tell her I needed to escape from her as well.
Fast forward 5 minutes later and she’s stalking me in my room, bent on drilling it in my head that I should have moved on. It’s been 2 weeks. Give me time to heal, for fuck’s sake. But no, she proceeded to call me, “an idiot.” Why? “ You’re so stupid. You’ve been played and dumped. If I were you, I’d hate him.”
But I don’t want to hate him. It’s hard to hate someone you still love. Has it really been a century ago that my mother was a young woman in love? Has she forgotten what it’s like to have heart broken by an emotionally detached male? Or maybe, even back then, she was immature (well, she still is). Hate is the easy way out. It works, but eventually you have to let go of that hate, which actually lengthens the healing process. Hating someone till the next one comes along doesn’t count as healing.
I ignored her. She didn’t like that, so she promptly said, “I’m not dropping you off at work. You can take the train.” And she left. Which left me wondering if I should even go to bed. Taking the LRT meant waking an hour earlier, and I would get only 3 hours of sleep.
The next thing I knew, she was back with what was one of the worst things she’s ever said to me (and there’s a lot): “If you want to die on his account, you deserve it.”
Um. Hello, Mumzilla.
Does she think we’re in Hollywood where you can get away with stupid OTT lines? I am not Teri Hatcher and we do not live on Wisteria Lane, Mrs. Huber.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, she absolutely refused to leave me alone, even after pleading and begging and waking my dad 3 times. This went on for over an hour, ending when the man of the house yelled at us. I can’t be home tonight till after dinner, because I know he will threaten to kick me out or kill me. Same old story, rehashed a thousand times since I was 15. Whenever there’s an argument (mother is never smart enough to keep her voice down), it is always my fault. He doesn’t care for details, just that I’m the child, so I must be in the wrong.
I felt so sick to my stomach. Why can’t the woman leave me in peace? As I type, she is calling me. She does this out of love. Or so she says. Where is this love she rants about? I hear noise, but I don’t see it, I don’t feel it. She must’ve come back into my room 5 times last night, once to throw my company’s medical policy at me and restate that I am a mess. Reminds me of something she said a few nights ago:
“No man will ever want to marry you. The state of your room reflects what you are.”
And I am a mess.
Post Ipoh
Yesterday, I returned from Ipoh after having spent the weekend there. We didn't even make it home after arriving in town that we went out for some drinks right after. Then, on the way home, was this neighbourhood pot-luck party that was being held at the field where our friend lives.
We--intending on obtaining dinner--attended. After all, we used to live in that neighbourhood, so we didn't really feel out of place. Crashing the party reminded me of the old days when we would take things that didn't really belong to us.
At one point I was talking to a man from the party. A "What is that?" and "That looks nice!" later, I bag some packets of snacks and a bottle of water to go. We headed home.
It's a long day as I arrived at my place... Another suggestion later, I'm changing and on my way to Souled Out for some Fear Factor gathering.
"I want to go home to get something also," another passenger said. So, after I was done, we went to his place. He goes in and comes out with two cans of beer in his hands. "Entertainment along the way," he says.
The driver was slightly annoyed because we thought that he was going to change his shoes or something. I found that rather amusing. The night was long as I went to play some pool, foosball, and snooker much later that night.
I'm leaving a bit out.
We--intending on obtaining dinner--attended. After all, we used to live in that neighbourhood, so we didn't really feel out of place. Crashing the party reminded me of the old days when we would take things that didn't really belong to us.
At one point I was talking to a man from the party. A "What is that?" and "That looks nice!" later, I bag some packets of snacks and a bottle of water to go. We headed home.
It's a long day as I arrived at my place... Another suggestion later, I'm changing and on my way to Souled Out for some Fear Factor gathering.
"I want to go home to get something also," another passenger said. So, after I was done, we went to his place. He goes in and comes out with two cans of beer in his hands. "Entertainment along the way," he says.
The driver was slightly annoyed because we thought that he was going to change his shoes or something. I found that rather amusing. The night was long as I went to play some pool, foosball, and snooker much later that night.
I'm leaving a bit out.
Sunday, September 18, 2005
Someday
Holy buttocks, I'm lazy.
Haven't written about the fun times with Truth/Dare or at the water park in Tambun. Will do it sometime.
For now I'm content (or not really, which is WHY I am) listening to Mariah Carey's "Someday."
Had a great time with friends in Ipoh over the weekend, and what did I do? The moment I got home, I checked to see if I had any email from him. Sad. Nothing, as (once again, not really) expected. It's like checking the papers to confirm for the 3872857th time you haven't won the lottery.
One day I'll be successful and working in the US, Rob and I will meet for drinks and fall MADLY IN LOVE WITH ME. But then I'll tell him *cues dramatic music* SORRY I'M ENGAGED as I introduce him to the CK underwear model I hired to be my 'vineyard owner fiance.' ;p
Hopefully I won't have to hire anyone. Or even want to see him again. If I did, I would be a very, very sad person. I must recheck my list of qualities I want in a partner, and get it in my thick head that he failed miserably.
And whenever this rollercoaster of recovery takes me on another spiral downward, I must remember:
Baldness runs in his family.
Haven't written about the fun times with Truth/Dare or at the water park in Tambun. Will do it sometime.
For now I'm content (or not really, which is WHY I am) listening to Mariah Carey's "Someday."
Had a great time with friends in Ipoh over the weekend, and what did I do? The moment I got home, I checked to see if I had any email from him. Sad. Nothing, as (once again, not really) expected. It's like checking the papers to confirm for the 3872857th time you haven't won the lottery.
One day I'll be successful and working in the US, Rob and I will meet for drinks and fall MADLY IN LOVE WITH ME. But then I'll tell him *cues dramatic music* SORRY I'M ENGAGED as I introduce him to the CK underwear model I hired to be my 'vineyard owner fiance.' ;p
Hopefully I won't have to hire anyone. Or even want to see him again. If I did, I would be a very, very sad person. I must recheck my list of qualities I want in a partner, and get it in my thick head that he failed miserably.
And whenever this rollercoaster of recovery takes me on another spiral downward, I must remember:
Baldness runs in his family.
Paint me orange
I went for my first paintball experience today at the park (whose name I can't quite remember) at Bukit Jalil with a few friends and guildmates from Guild Wars. There were a total of fourteen of us, though one couldn't play because he was underaged (and pretty good at Counter-Strike too, damn) and another one opted to sit out, so it ended up being a six man team on both sides.
At first, I was really excited over the whole thing. Paintball! How cool, right? Then they made us sign a form which I didn't quite read, but I knew it was one of those if-you-die-while-on-the-field-it-is-not-our-problem forms they make you sign whenever you get silly enough to do anything remotely dangerous that can be sued over by petty people. After that we had to sit through a briefing on how to play properly. Included in this briefing were precautions on what to do in case you get shot in the neck (which is life-threatening enough for you to need to drop onto the ground and put your arm in the air so the marshalls can come over to take you out) or if your helmet falls off (because you can get shot in the eye and be blinded. Or worse still, your head could crack).
After that I was somewhat more subdued (and maybe a little scared). We split the teams and went to our respective bases. That's when we discovered that the area had a LOT of mosquitos. I swatted about four or five as we formed our strategy. Since it was a capture the flag game, I opted to snipe the bottles (we had to snipe the bottles off its perch before we are allowed to capture the flag) because I didn't fancy running a lot while getting shot at. So after we had talked things through, the game began.
Once the marshalls told us to go for it, I ran to the easiest place to snipe the bottles from with another designated sniper. The gun was damn heavy to carry and run at the same time. Plus adding the claustrophobia from wearing the protective helmet, I found it a little hard to breathe (not to mention see). Already the action was heavy with members of the opposing team shooting at us. Their pellets bounced off the metal plating we were hiding behind with a loud 'CLANG'. Every time I wanted to stick my head out I kept praying "GOD, PLEASE LET NO ONE HIT ME ON THE HEAD." I got shot with stray paint, and lifted my hand up in the air while getting up. That's a sign that you're down, and no one is supposed to shoot at you because.....well, there's no point. I was turning around to run back to base when a pellet hit the right side of my head, right above my right ear. SPLAT.
I ran back to base while cursing whichever person who did that to me because god, did headshots hurt! Halfway running back to base I realise I am so out of shape I barely have enough energy to run back to my sniping spot. Thank god no one shot at me while I was limping on the way back, and soon, I was taking shots at people. Awhile later the marshalls sounded the alarm. The opposing team had won the first round.
Back at base, my team compared notes. We all lamented, while half-panting, that we were all too out of shape to play paintball. Sam, the other sniper, showed our team's first battle wound. A tiny red ring, pulsing red, almost bleeding, with a HUGE bruise surrounding that. We all gaped in awe and horror. So that was what it was like to get a direct hit from a paintball pellet! Woah.
We played 3 games in total before we decided we couldn't take it anymore (besides running out of pellets). My team lost. I got shot several times, once in the arm (just like Sam), one RIGHT on my right butt cheek, and one on each leg. I got the very same injury mark Sam did. The rest were smaller bruises. In the same vein, I counted at least seven mosquito bites on one arm, nevermind my arms were covered right up to my elbows. I suppose I was lucky. AJ, another of my teammates, got two pellets in the mouth area. Unluckily for him he was panting at that time so the paint ended up going into his mouth and he accidentally swallowed it. In turn, that wasn't as bad as poor Evan on the opposing team who had to be dragged out by two marshalls because he got shot a few times on the neck and once right on his collarbone.
After the event we just sat around, jokingly shouting "ALL RIGHT, OWN UP!! WHO HIT ME IN X SPOT??", showing off our wounds and taking photographs before we decided to take off ourselves.
Damn, paintball is so fucking cool.
Pictures coming as soon as someone passes them to me.
At first, I was really excited over the whole thing. Paintball! How cool, right? Then they made us sign a form which I didn't quite read, but I knew it was one of those if-you-die-while-on-the-field-it-is-not-our-problem forms they make you sign whenever you get silly enough to do anything remotely dangerous that can be sued over by petty people. After that we had to sit through a briefing on how to play properly. Included in this briefing were precautions on what to do in case you get shot in the neck (which is life-threatening enough for you to need to drop onto the ground and put your arm in the air so the marshalls can come over to take you out) or if your helmet falls off (because you can get shot in the eye and be blinded. Or worse still, your head could crack).
After that I was somewhat more subdued (and maybe a little scared). We split the teams and went to our respective bases. That's when we discovered that the area had a LOT of mosquitos. I swatted about four or five as we formed our strategy. Since it was a capture the flag game, I opted to snipe the bottles (we had to snipe the bottles off its perch before we are allowed to capture the flag) because I didn't fancy running a lot while getting shot at. So after we had talked things through, the game began.
Once the marshalls told us to go for it, I ran to the easiest place to snipe the bottles from with another designated sniper. The gun was damn heavy to carry and run at the same time. Plus adding the claustrophobia from wearing the protective helmet, I found it a little hard to breathe (not to mention see). Already the action was heavy with members of the opposing team shooting at us. Their pellets bounced off the metal plating we were hiding behind with a loud 'CLANG'. Every time I wanted to stick my head out I kept praying "GOD, PLEASE LET NO ONE HIT ME ON THE HEAD." I got shot with stray paint, and lifted my hand up in the air while getting up. That's a sign that you're down, and no one is supposed to shoot at you because.....well, there's no point. I was turning around to run back to base when a pellet hit the right side of my head, right above my right ear. SPLAT.
I ran back to base while cursing whichever person who did that to me because god, did headshots hurt! Halfway running back to base I realise I am so out of shape I barely have enough energy to run back to my sniping spot. Thank god no one shot at me while I was limping on the way back, and soon, I was taking shots at people. Awhile later the marshalls sounded the alarm. The opposing team had won the first round.
Back at base, my team compared notes. We all lamented, while half-panting, that we were all too out of shape to play paintball. Sam, the other sniper, showed our team's first battle wound. A tiny red ring, pulsing red, almost bleeding, with a HUGE bruise surrounding that. We all gaped in awe and horror. So that was what it was like to get a direct hit from a paintball pellet! Woah.
We played 3 games in total before we decided we couldn't take it anymore (besides running out of pellets). My team lost. I got shot several times, once in the arm (just like Sam), one RIGHT on my right butt cheek, and one on each leg. I got the very same injury mark Sam did. The rest were smaller bruises. In the same vein, I counted at least seven mosquito bites on one arm, nevermind my arms were covered right up to my elbows. I suppose I was lucky. AJ, another of my teammates, got two pellets in the mouth area. Unluckily for him he was panting at that time so the paint ended up going into his mouth and he accidentally swallowed it. In turn, that wasn't as bad as poor Evan on the opposing team who had to be dragged out by two marshalls because he got shot a few times on the neck and once right on his collarbone.
After the event we just sat around, jokingly shouting "ALL RIGHT, OWN UP!! WHO HIT ME IN X SPOT??", showing off our wounds and taking photographs before we decided to take off ourselves.
Damn, paintball is so fucking cool.
Pictures coming as soon as someone passes them to me.
Friday, September 16, 2005
Numa numa ei~!
I hate my boss. From last week until now he had been playing what I call the "numa numa" song nonstop, and now it's stuck in my head and I can't get it out. It is actually quite a nice song, but after hearing it for the millionth time in a row it turned into one of those annoying songs that tortures you because you can't get out of your head.
To his credit, he actually hasn't played that song for about two days now. Then this afternoon he decided to play it and turned the volume up. That made my colleagues cover their ears while screaming "not again~!" in terror before flinging themselves at the office windows in a valiant but vain attempt to save themselves from the torture.
I just sat in my seat and took the torture willingly, thinking I could escape its wrath. But no, barely seven hours from that incident and the song popped up in my head with no sign of turning itself off unless I shoot myself in the head.
So what did I do?
I decide to download the song off the net. Yeah, I know, it doesn't help at all. If nothing else, I am torturing myself even further. If any of you people out there want it or are just plain curious, it is actually a Romanian song called "Dragostea Din Tei" by Ozone, O'Zone, or possibly O-Zone. Whatever. I am doomed anyway, so details don't matter.
Ma ia hii~
Ma ia huu~
Ma ia hoo~
Ma ia haha~
Urgh.
To his credit, he actually hasn't played that song for about two days now. Then this afternoon he decided to play it and turned the volume up. That made my colleagues cover their ears while screaming "not again~!" in terror before flinging themselves at the office windows in a valiant but vain attempt to save themselves from the torture.
I just sat in my seat and took the torture willingly, thinking I could escape its wrath. But no, barely seven hours from that incident and the song popped up in my head with no sign of turning itself off unless I shoot myself in the head.
So what did I do?
I decide to download the song off the net. Yeah, I know, it doesn't help at all. If nothing else, I am torturing myself even further. If any of you people out there want it or are just plain curious, it is actually a Romanian song called "Dragostea Din Tei" by Ozone, O'Zone, or possibly O-Zone. Whatever. I am doomed anyway, so details don't matter.
Ma ia hii~
Ma ia huu~
Ma ia hoo~
Ma ia haha~
Urgh.
Crazy
Yesterday I had an MSN conversation about crazy people with Yew Seng here. We were chatting about the borders between reality and delusion. I said it was a fine line. Yew Seng said it was not, because things were real because everyone can see it, and things were not real if only the delusional person can see it but everyone else can't. Yew Seng then said thus the delusional person is certifiably crazy. I said that it is still real to the delusional person because s/he can see it. I then said it was a clear cut case of tyranny by majority, because just because everyone else can't see it so they think they must be right because they are in bigger numbers. Yew Seng then came close to calling me crazy, but decided to say he had to go instead (yes, I know you think I'm crazy and want to avoid me :p).
Thursday, September 15, 2005
Emotional Forecast: 15/09/2005
I foresee another very hot day, though not the hottest, humid as ever. We're seeing better days than the recent hazed and increased heat all day through.
Some dry spells later at Holiday Villa Subang for buffet Hi-tea, which begins at 3PM. I will be attending and hopefully reporting on that later. Free buffet vouchers expire today. So it's anyone's game.
In other areas: A little gloom as few recover from serious relationship issues. Around the outskirts: A little aftermath of said gloom as some reconsider certain decisions and current "weather" conditions.
For those in need of productivity, there will be wind pushing around here, and here. So, from all of me here, we bid you a fair day! Have a good day at work if you've joined us early in the morning.
Albeit there are bad showers here and there, the days begin beautifully from my window. So, if you're feeling like utter crap-ola, try to cheer up because we're thinking of you here.
Now, over to Boon Ying with today's humour (hopefully), and Lis with current affairs (smile). Lets hope there aren't any technical difficulties. You two have a good day ahead, and the rest of the/our country (MALAYSIA), please try not to lose it on the road.
Some dry spells later at Holiday Villa Subang for buffet Hi-tea, which begins at 3PM. I will be attending and hopefully reporting on that later. Free buffet vouchers expire today. So it's anyone's game.
In other areas: A little gloom as few recover from serious relationship issues. Around the outskirts: A little aftermath of said gloom as some reconsider certain decisions and current "weather" conditions.
For those in need of productivity, there will be wind pushing around here, and here. So, from all of me here, we bid you a fair day! Have a good day at work if you've joined us early in the morning.
Albeit there are bad showers here and there, the days begin beautifully from my window. So, if you're feeling like utter crap-ola, try to cheer up because we're thinking of you here.
Now, over to Boon Ying with today's humour (hopefully), and Lis with current affairs (smile). Lets hope there aren't any technical difficulties. You two have a good day ahead, and the rest of the/our country (MALAYSIA), please try not to lose it on the road.
Fleeing Addict
So, I came back a little late today. I've been doing that a lot lately. Today can be considered early if compared to the others. It doesn’t make a difference either way. Whether I’m out or not, I will still most likely be awake.
In going through this ambitionless road of mine, I've observed many things. One that sticks out is how others are more willing to put in extra effort in bettering themselves whether it's in terms of career or... career searching. What I mean to highlight is the way we change and grow so very differently.
Everyone's either always trying to find a way to change their condition in self improvement, or trying to change something back to what it was before it was changed. A few remain stagnant like me. “Few” is the operative word.
I've--sort of--tried (jump) starting my career. For a while, I had interviews. More directly, I’ve had only a few (interviews), but I still await a reply (at least). Therein lay my weakness: I don't possess the same go-getting, self-applying quality as many of you do. Or at least I don't think I do.
My astute (if that) observation show that I have a resistance to change, which tend to set in when I realise I can do something, thus resulting in me putting less effort into it because the goal is seemingly lost to me as the sense of achievement is not there. That is just rubbish I tell myself. (That sentence seemed pretty long.)
There is something that I fear; high likelihood of it being failure. Perhaps even disappointment. At my age, I think it is rather ridiculous for my behaving this way. Realising that my sense of self confidence is only a moderate compensation for my lacking in self discipline, I strive to change and feel that I’m on my way, though the only thing bothering me is that I don’t know where the “way” leads.
I always ask myself what I’m working towards, but receive no answer let alone answers. I can only assume that we all don’t really know; a missing dream; a fading objective? I suppose you can replace this with whatever pipe dream you wish. Who am I to judge your pursuit of happiness and whatnot?
Metaphorically, I feel like a wasteland of studied subjects and scattered exam papers and class notes. In further fueling this, I am alone, standing on myself (the wasteland); the mounds of sand, representing time, get higher and higher; the once-organised papers, now scattered across my mind symbolising the displacement of knowledge learnt of years ago.
Sooner than later, the papers will cease to show, leaving behind a desert. It’s very much like a music video, to think of it.
So, why am I still running away and not doing anything about this? I really don’t know. I can only say that I’m enjoying this for the moment, and soon enough, the carpet will be pulled from under my feet. I better find suitable work quick before I'm forced to start packing.
My pseudo admission: Sometimes I feel as though I set myself up for disappointment. I have a theory that I'm an addict of it.
In going through this ambitionless road of mine, I've observed many things. One that sticks out is how others are more willing to put in extra effort in bettering themselves whether it's in terms of career or... career searching. What I mean to highlight is the way we change and grow so very differently.
Everyone's either always trying to find a way to change their condition in self improvement, or trying to change something back to what it was before it was changed. A few remain stagnant like me. “Few” is the operative word.
I've--sort of--tried (jump) starting my career. For a while, I had interviews. More directly, I’ve had only a few (interviews), but I still await a reply (at least). Therein lay my weakness: I don't possess the same go-getting, self-applying quality as many of you do. Or at least I don't think I do.
My astute (if that) observation show that I have a resistance to change, which tend to set in when I realise I can do something, thus resulting in me putting less effort into it because the goal is seemingly lost to me as the sense of achievement is not there. That is just rubbish I tell myself. (That sentence seemed pretty long.)
There is something that I fear; high likelihood of it being failure. Perhaps even disappointment. At my age, I think it is rather ridiculous for my behaving this way. Realising that my sense of self confidence is only a moderate compensation for my lacking in self discipline, I strive to change and feel that I’m on my way, though the only thing bothering me is that I don’t know where the “way” leads.
I always ask myself what I’m working towards, but receive no answer let alone answers. I can only assume that we all don’t really know; a missing dream; a fading objective? I suppose you can replace this with whatever pipe dream you wish. Who am I to judge your pursuit of happiness and whatnot?
Metaphorically, I feel like a wasteland of studied subjects and scattered exam papers and class notes. In further fueling this, I am alone, standing on myself (the wasteland); the mounds of sand, representing time, get higher and higher; the once-organised papers, now scattered across my mind symbolising the displacement of knowledge learnt of years ago.
Sooner than later, the papers will cease to show, leaving behind a desert. It’s very much like a music video, to think of it.
So, why am I still running away and not doing anything about this? I really don’t know. I can only say that I’m enjoying this for the moment, and soon enough, the carpet will be pulled from under my feet. I better find suitable work quick before I'm forced to start packing.
My pseudo admission: Sometimes I feel as though I set myself up for disappointment. I have a theory that I'm an addict of it.
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
More "Basket Case" than "Basket Ball"
Halfway playing basketball, someone decides to sing the Rocky workout song. He then began to do push-ups and sit-ups on the bench. He then got up and started sparring with air as he tossed the ball up and delivered punches below and above the ball; all the while singing and humming to the tune of Rocky. I couldn't stop laughing.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Unspoken
I know half a secret, which means I can tell it to people halfway now. Why I know half a secret? I don't know. I wasn't supposed to know but someone told me. However, I don't know why he told me. I'm sure he had his own reasons.
Fact remains that I have no blimming clue as to what the entire secret is all about. On top of that, I don't know what I'm to do with the information. I don't even know who is who, or what is what.
It's as though the secret was eating him up from the inside and he had to share little bits and pieces of it, only that it's just one chunk of data, and you're to figure what to do with it.
I don't know about you people, but most of the secrets I know have now been forgotten because I've never spoken of them to this day. Others may be out, but mostly forgotten. Or are they?
What is this secret? I wish I knew. Yes, he told me. He just told me the secret, and nothing else. I know that doesn't make sense. I don't know what sense to find in it either. It must be a test.
The secret was in the form of a secret. All the details were kept secret. Except a string that represents one incident, and that is it. No names. I don't know if you will understand this.
Fact remains that I have no blimming clue as to what the entire secret is all about. On top of that, I don't know what I'm to do with the information. I don't even know who is who, or what is what.
It's as though the secret was eating him up from the inside and he had to share little bits and pieces of it, only that it's just one chunk of data, and you're to figure what to do with it.
I don't know about you people, but most of the secrets I know have now been forgotten because I've never spoken of them to this day. Others may be out, but mostly forgotten. Or are they?
What is this secret? I wish I knew. Yes, he told me. He just told me the secret, and nothing else. I know that doesn't make sense. I don't know what sense to find in it either. It must be a test.
The secret was in the form of a secret. All the details were kept secret. Except a string that represents one incident, and that is it. No names. I don't know if you will understand this.
Graceless
First day at work went OK. People seem nice, not that I'm trusting anyone even if I'm fully armed.
I got home and hit another low, called him to chat, ended up crying and asking him why. I was stupid enough to ask if he regrets his decision. Without hesitation, he said no. I sobbed that I couldn't understand how we could go from happy to nothing. When i asked why, just like every other time, he got angry.
He said he had to go because he'd arrived at the office. And I just mentioned that he used to talk to me at work. You should've heard his tone... He SNAPPED at me. "That was when I could duck into a room and talk to you because I wasn't busy. I'm busy now!" It was cold and harsh, like a soft yell.
I don't know how to handle this with grace. Sure, I didn't deserve to be yelled at but he didn't ask to be sobbed to.
I should write about fun times like Saturday night at Starbucks and Friendster. Or wait till Yew Seng is well enough to do that.
I got home and hit another low, called him to chat, ended up crying and asking him why. I was stupid enough to ask if he regrets his decision. Without hesitation, he said no. I sobbed that I couldn't understand how we could go from happy to nothing. When i asked why, just like every other time, he got angry.
He said he had to go because he'd arrived at the office. And I just mentioned that he used to talk to me at work. You should've heard his tone... He SNAPPED at me. "That was when I could duck into a room and talk to you because I wasn't busy. I'm busy now!" It was cold and harsh, like a soft yell.
I don't know how to handle this with grace. Sure, I didn't deserve to be yelled at but he didn't ask to be sobbed to.
I should write about fun times like Saturday night at Starbucks and Friendster. Or wait till Yew Seng is well enough to do that.
Monday, September 12, 2005
Drama on the high road
Last Friday (yes lah, I am too lazy to blog about things at once sometimes, okay?) I decided to go home from work using the LDP. Main reason being that defying all explanation, the NKVE never fails to be this stress-inducing jam on Friday evenings. So if the paid way home is going to be just as jammed as the free way home, hey, I might as well not pay, right? So I turned into the LDP instead.
Road was still quite jammed, even though I left my office around 8pm. Motorbikes as usual were whizzing in and out of traffic like flies (no offense to the people out there I know who drive one). One car which just passed by on my right was cuting quite close to my lane when one of these whizzing bikers drove past in between our cars. The guy on the right honked, probably because the bike was riding a little too close to his car for comfort (because his car was cutting the line).
The biker swerved into my lane, in front of my car, glared at the car and actually shook his fist at it. While I was staring at the whole scene in front of me in disbelief, he drove closer to the car and actually kicked it. Softly, of course, because otherwise he would have been flung off the bike, and probably onto MY windscreen, and then I would have a lot of explaining to do to the cops.
The biker then got back to driving in the middle of the road in between the left and right lanes. The drama didn't quite stop there though, because then the car decided to retaliate by swerving close to the bike, as though he was trying to run him down. Which, thank god didn't happen either, because the bike managed to swerve in time, otherwise I would have a lot of explaining to the cops to do.
The guy on the bike was obviously pissed. I could see him glare furiously at the car again, and he swerved close by again, no doubt wanting to kick his door again, but as luck would have it, traffic came close to a standstill, and he ended up nearly kicking the door of the car in front of the intended car. He then shook his fist angrily again before driving off.
I suppose you could say that in all the years that I have been driving, this was the first road rage incident that I have personally witnessed. And honestly, I don't know whether to be horrified or to burst into fits of laughter. I mean, trying to kick someone's car knowing full well that you will fly off your bike if you do is incredibly stupid. Of course, having the car retaliate by trying to run him off the road was hillarious as well.
Know what I think though?
Those two assholes deserved each other.
Road was still quite jammed, even though I left my office around 8pm. Motorbikes as usual were whizzing in and out of traffic like flies (no offense to the people out there I know who drive one). One car which just passed by on my right was cuting quite close to my lane when one of these whizzing bikers drove past in between our cars. The guy on the right honked, probably because the bike was riding a little too close to his car for comfort (because his car was cutting the line).
The biker swerved into my lane, in front of my car, glared at the car and actually shook his fist at it. While I was staring at the whole scene in front of me in disbelief, he drove closer to the car and actually kicked it. Softly, of course, because otherwise he would have been flung off the bike, and probably onto MY windscreen, and then I would have a lot of explaining to do to the cops.
The biker then got back to driving in the middle of the road in between the left and right lanes. The drama didn't quite stop there though, because then the car decided to retaliate by swerving close to the bike, as though he was trying to run him down. Which, thank god didn't happen either, because the bike managed to swerve in time, otherwise I would have a lot of explaining to the cops to do.
The guy on the bike was obviously pissed. I could see him glare furiously at the car again, and he swerved close by again, no doubt wanting to kick his door again, but as luck would have it, traffic came close to a standstill, and he ended up nearly kicking the door of the car in front of the intended car. He then shook his fist angrily again before driving off.
I suppose you could say that in all the years that I have been driving, this was the first road rage incident that I have personally witnessed. And honestly, I don't know whether to be horrified or to burst into fits of laughter. I mean, trying to kick someone's car knowing full well that you will fly off your bike if you do is incredibly stupid. Of course, having the car retaliate by trying to run him off the road was hillarious as well.
Know what I think though?
Those two assholes deserved each other.
Sunday, September 11, 2005
Ascorbic Acid
I hardly ever fall ill, therefore suspect I caught it off someone. I always thought Vitamin C would help build one's immune system (and all that jazz la), but the very next day after I took three, I had a sore throat, and now it feels as though I'm coming down with the flu. I'm starting to think the tablets are the cause. Maybe I ingested too many.
Saturday, September 10, 2005
Cepat!
This is the funniest thing that occurred today when no one was with us: We parked by a park yesterday afternoon and waited around for a friend to return from where she and what she was doing.
"You look like a kidnapper with those shades on," he says to me laughing slightly as we get down simultaneously sharing the humour.
I am not convinced of his silly opinion, but luck would have it that nearby, opposite where we parked was a Malays lady (mother) and her kids (I assume). I decided to put his statement to the test.
I whistle one of those minding-my-own-business tunes (they have no rhythm and sound like random notes), and at that very instant, the mother glances at me--excellent in terms of grace and attention-grabbing--as I shift my sights towards her kid and her. Her kid was playing in front of the house three doors away.
In a nervous-sounding, and almost in despair-ish tone, she calls out to her son, "Faiz, come here cepat!"
We walk off in the other direction smoking, and trying as hard as possible to silence the continuous laughter that whole scene generated.
Later at a distance, inside the park, we are imprisoned in laughter without possibility of parole. We repeat to ourselves, "Faiz, come here cepat!" while replaying the entire scene from begining to ending.
I cannot believe this: I look like someone that would abduct your children and hold them ransom. Sze Wei was very accurate about what I looked like; a kidnapper.
"You look like a kidnapper with those shades on," he says to me laughing slightly as we get down simultaneously sharing the humour.
I am not convinced of his silly opinion, but luck would have it that nearby, opposite where we parked was a Malays lady (mother) and her kids (I assume). I decided to put his statement to the test.
I whistle one of those minding-my-own-business tunes (they have no rhythm and sound like random notes), and at that very instant, the mother glances at me--excellent in terms of grace and attention-grabbing--as I shift my sights towards her kid and her. Her kid was playing in front of the house three doors away.
In a nervous-sounding, and almost in despair-ish tone, she calls out to her son, "Faiz, come here cepat!"
We walk off in the other direction smoking, and trying as hard as possible to silence the continuous laughter that whole scene generated.
Later at a distance, inside the park, we are imprisoned in laughter without possibility of parole. We repeat to ourselves, "Faiz, come here cepat!" while replaying the entire scene from begining to ending.
I cannot believe this: I look like someone that would abduct your children and hold them ransom. Sze Wei was very accurate about what I looked like; a kidnapper.
Thursday, September 08, 2005
HELLO, SHAO MING
So you don't read my posts, eh?
Well, I have 3 words for you:
International.
Pemindahan.
Facility.
:)
Well, I have 3 words for you:
International.
Pemindahan.
Facility.
:)
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Karma
Think about the last breakup you had. How did you behave? Were you considerate? Impatient? Heartless? I'm ashamed that I've been a heartless initiator of a split. I didn't stop to consider his feelings very well, and I suspected everything he did was an attempt to gain attention. Unfortunately, I also suspect this is all part of the process, except with varying degrees.
Yesterday was a good day. Fun. Kept somewhat busy. No depression. At night, I stayed home. On the PC. Mistake. Out of boredom, I emailed his friend's wife, whom I've met and would like to keep in touch with. She asked how I was, so I mentioned in passing that you-know-who and I broke up. Big mistake.
Somehow, the email got around to him. A little odd, huh? I doubt I would forward a paragraph relating to someone's breakup to his previous partner. I didn't care though. In fact, I almost expected it.
The cold steel of hostility pierced through our (only) connection online with a very accusatory: "What are you hoping to accomplish, writing to my friends?"
I honestly had no idea how to respond. Uh, to stay in contact? What was he thinking? That I would be completely stupid to appeal to his friends for sympathy while knowing that they're his friends and would most likely tell him?? I can't believe how paranoid and arrogant he reacted, making me into a manipulative liar.
Oh yeah, that's the worst part. Indirectly calling me a liar. Twice. Again, it has to do with trust. It's becoming clear that he just cannot accept that I was with someone before him. He resents and has placed me in his mind as an enemy, rather than someone he can trust in, because he just refuses to forgive me. And when you live with the enemy, your hostile side manifests itself. The irony is he believes he's forgiven me. Denial? Liar?
It saddens me he was so prepared to end our friendship. Over what? Heh. So kiddies, there is such a thing as karma. Be nice to the people you break up with, or it will come back to you, plunge its thorny fist up your anus and pull out your guts.
Yesterday was a good day. Fun. Kept somewhat busy. No depression. At night, I stayed home. On the PC. Mistake. Out of boredom, I emailed his friend's wife, whom I've met and would like to keep in touch with. She asked how I was, so I mentioned in passing that you-know-who and I broke up. Big mistake.
Somehow, the email got around to him. A little odd, huh? I doubt I would forward a paragraph relating to someone's breakup to his previous partner. I didn't care though. In fact, I almost expected it.
The cold steel of hostility pierced through our (only) connection online with a very accusatory: "What are you hoping to accomplish, writing to my friends?"
I honestly had no idea how to respond. Uh, to stay in contact? What was he thinking? That I would be completely stupid to appeal to his friends for sympathy while knowing that they're his friends and would most likely tell him?? I can't believe how paranoid and arrogant he reacted, making me into a manipulative liar.
Oh yeah, that's the worst part. Indirectly calling me a liar. Twice. Again, it has to do with trust. It's becoming clear that he just cannot accept that I was with someone before him. He resents and has placed me in his mind as an enemy, rather than someone he can trust in, because he just refuses to forgive me. And when you live with the enemy, your hostile side manifests itself. The irony is he believes he's forgiven me. Denial? Liar?
It saddens me he was so prepared to end our friendship. Over what? Heh. So kiddies, there is such a thing as karma. Be nice to the people you break up with, or it will come back to you, plunge its thorny fist up your anus and pull out your guts.
Malpractice suits aplenty
I started playing computer games from a very young age. I have many fond memories of some of the games I used to love playing back then, and these last few years I have been accumulating abandonware (that's what really really old computer games with publishers and developers that have since kicked the bucket are called) so I can relive the memories of playing these games once again. One of these games was Life and Death, and its sequel Life and Death 2: The Brain.
For the people now scratching their heads, Life and Death is a simulation/educational game where you play a surgeon. In Life and Death you operate on the stomach area, curing patients of appendicitis and aneurysms. In Life and Death 2: The Brain, you do brain surgery (duh).
Well, yeah, I suppose it sounds pretty disgusting and not much fun, not to mention bloody. But what does a nine year old kid know?
Nothing.
Really.
The first time I managed to diagnose my patient correctly without them ending up in the morgue and got to the operation table, I was elated! However, I knew nothing about surgery. The first thing I did was to pick up the knife-looking thing and cut the patient straight across the stomach. After he finished screaming, I ended up in the medical classroom while the head doctor screamed at me for not applying anaesthetic first. That threw me into fits of laughter. Thus began my fascination with the game.
I operated on my poor, poor patients on a trial and error basis. Since I did not have a manual (it was a pirated copy), I couldn't figure out what to do till I did something seriously wrong and ended up being berated by the head doctor. I was better off in Life or Death 2 because it had a built in manual. I managed to complete a few surgeries in the sequel, but sadly, I never quite figured out the first game.
Then tonight I thought about the game again. So I downloaded it off Home of the Underdogs and started playing again. It took a few trials and errors again before the patients stopped keeling over. Then I got to the operation room. Trial and error again. Got fed-up and decided to download a walkthrough. After a few more tries, I actually managed to successfully operate on an appendix, and later on, an aneurysm! Joy, after 17 years, I have finally managed to finish the game!
My final score? 17/44 patients. That means I saved 17, out of 44. The rest died/were misoperated upon. Whoops. Good thing I'm not a doctor in real life, huh?
For the people now scratching their heads, Life and Death is a simulation/educational game where you play a surgeon. In Life and Death you operate on the stomach area, curing patients of appendicitis and aneurysms. In Life and Death 2: The Brain, you do brain surgery (duh).
Well, yeah, I suppose it sounds pretty disgusting and not much fun, not to mention bloody. But what does a nine year old kid know?
Nothing.
Really.
The first time I managed to diagnose my patient correctly without them ending up in the morgue and got to the operation table, I was elated! However, I knew nothing about surgery. The first thing I did was to pick up the knife-looking thing and cut the patient straight across the stomach. After he finished screaming, I ended up in the medical classroom while the head doctor screamed at me for not applying anaesthetic first. That threw me into fits of laughter. Thus began my fascination with the game.
I operated on my poor, poor patients on a trial and error basis. Since I did not have a manual (it was a pirated copy), I couldn't figure out what to do till I did something seriously wrong and ended up being berated by the head doctor. I was better off in Life or Death 2 because it had a built in manual. I managed to complete a few surgeries in the sequel, but sadly, I never quite figured out the first game.
Then tonight I thought about the game again. So I downloaded it off Home of the Underdogs and started playing again. It took a few trials and errors again before the patients stopped keeling over. Then I got to the operation room. Trial and error again. Got fed-up and decided to download a walkthrough. After a few more tries, I actually managed to successfully operate on an appendix, and later on, an aneurysm! Joy, after 17 years, I have finally managed to finish the game!
My final score? 17/44 patients. That means I saved 17, out of 44. The rest died/were misoperated upon. Whoops. Good thing I'm not a doctor in real life, huh?
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Gliding past with square plastic baskets on hand
Haha, for some reason, I find that so amusing. Anyone who knows Yew(s) can see the absurdity in him gliding along with a bright blue basket on one hand, possibly talking with his other hand.
"You're beautiful."
That is one fucking annoying song. It can be considered quite pretty and sweet, but FFS how shallow can you be?! Like Yew Seng says, easy to judge. Yes, easy, so I'll do it :p A love song should be heartfelt for the right reasons, not because you saw some chick you thought was hot and wanted to bone. That's what gayass bands like Limp Bizkit are for. And what is with James Blunt's video?! No one in their right mind wants to see him strip! And if they do, well, nothing I can say about them la. The stripping could be symbolic, as in he's baring his soul, but the shallowness (is that a word?) of the lyrics leads one to believe he's just a horny unattractive fellow who can't get laid and is therefore using the "do-me-I'm-a-musician" approach.
Either way, too try-hard la.
There must be nice hot guys out there. Anyone who knows their top secret whereabouts, plz email me thx. Well, just "nice" doesn't cut it. I realize now that something was sorely lacking in my previous relationship: intimacy. I had a feeling gnawing away in me but ignored it. Sure la, lots of making out and stuff does not equal intimacy. Before we met in person, he mentioned he was very affectionate. Upon reflection, the only time I got a glimpse of that was when we first met. After that, it was very... sporadic.
Maybe it was my fault for being with someone else before, although that is petty and immature if you can't get over that. Maybe it was a defence mechanism to prevent himself from getting hurt (as a result of not accepting it was petty to still harbour resentment towards me). Or maybe, he's just too lazy for a real relationship and has intimacy issues.
OK, overanalysing again. Oh, KT Tunstall, how right you are when you say, "I wish it were simple, but we give up easily." Now that's how you do it, Mr. Blunt :P
"You're beautiful."
That is one fucking annoying song. It can be considered quite pretty and sweet, but FFS how shallow can you be?! Like Yew Seng says, easy to judge. Yes, easy, so I'll do it :p A love song should be heartfelt for the right reasons, not because you saw some chick you thought was hot and wanted to bone. That's what gayass bands like Limp Bizkit are for. And what is with James Blunt's video?! No one in their right mind wants to see him strip! And if they do, well, nothing I can say about them la. The stripping could be symbolic, as in he's baring his soul, but the shallowness (is that a word?) of the lyrics leads one to believe he's just a horny unattractive fellow who can't get laid and is therefore using the "do-me-I'm-a-musician" approach.
Either way, too try-hard la.
There must be nice hot guys out there. Anyone who knows their top secret whereabouts, plz email me thx. Well, just "nice" doesn't cut it. I realize now that something was sorely lacking in my previous relationship: intimacy. I had a feeling gnawing away in me but ignored it. Sure la, lots of making out and stuff does not equal intimacy. Before we met in person, he mentioned he was very affectionate. Upon reflection, the only time I got a glimpse of that was when we first met. After that, it was very... sporadic.
Maybe it was my fault for being with someone else before, although that is petty and immature if you can't get over that. Maybe it was a defence mechanism to prevent himself from getting hurt (as a result of not accepting it was petty to still harbour resentment towards me). Or maybe, he's just too lazy for a real relationship and has intimacy issues.
OK, overanalysing again. Oh, KT Tunstall, how right you are when you say, "I wish it were simple, but we give up easily." Now that's how you do it, Mr. Blunt :P
Marketing
Having just returned from the morning market with my grandmother, I immediately wash my hands and elbow area. Why? I'll tell you why in a while.
Going there always reminds me of the one time (probably) that I followed my mother there. People were looking at me strangely as I glided pass them with a square plastic basket on one hand, and my grandmother's hand on the other; as though I seduced a 70 year old or something. Perhaps it was the blue "celebrate life" band I had on my left wrist that caught their eye.
First was the pork area. This is where they sell the pork because it has to be separated from the other meats since it is after all, pork. It would probably feel like contamination to have it near the other meats section for the Malay.
There seems to be an overwhelming volume of men with tattoos in the pork section, which I find curious. They operate with cleavers. Apparently, really-really sharp knives are usually accompanied by a big guy with a tattoo and a sleeveless shirt, or sometimes with no shirt at all. They are very skilled with a blade, as I observed minute chunks of meat fall nearby my feet when they slice and dice.
Coincidentally, a lady dropped her broccoli next to my foot. She picked it up and weighed it as though that never happened. She's probably a mother of four and hates her kids because it's worse enough that kids don't like broccoli (as seen on TV), but they have to eat one that has been on a market floor.
Oh! Yes. Why I washed my hands immediately aside from the reason that I'm anal and prefer to keep my arms clean: My grandmother and I went into the ikan area of the market. She was looking at the fishies, copping a feel, and weighing them. The stall has this little basin of water and lemon where you can wash your hands, and I don't think my grandmother washed hers too well. Immediately after buying fish, she grabs my arm with the same hand used for fish.
I sensed something amiss almost immediately as she grasped my arm! The fish! Yerrrr (hehehe). Before that, I was watching the lady debone a fish; I said that she made the deboning look so easily done, and that I should learn how. With my passing comment sent, my grandmother had to say that it would be good to learn if I can't earn a living and/or find a job.
Hot days pass as I learn to keep my mouth shut with no success.
Going there always reminds me of the one time (probably) that I followed my mother there. People were looking at me strangely as I glided pass them with a square plastic basket on one hand, and my grandmother's hand on the other; as though I seduced a 70 year old or something. Perhaps it was the blue "celebrate life" band I had on my left wrist that caught their eye.
First was the pork area. This is where they sell the pork because it has to be separated from the other meats since it is after all, pork. It would probably feel like contamination to have it near the other meats section for the Malay.
There seems to be an overwhelming volume of men with tattoos in the pork section, which I find curious. They operate with cleavers. Apparently, really-really sharp knives are usually accompanied by a big guy with a tattoo and a sleeveless shirt, or sometimes with no shirt at all. They are very skilled with a blade, as I observed minute chunks of meat fall nearby my feet when they slice and dice.
Coincidentally, a lady dropped her broccoli next to my foot. She picked it up and weighed it as though that never happened. She's probably a mother of four and hates her kids because it's worse enough that kids don't like broccoli (as seen on TV), but they have to eat one that has been on a market floor.
Oh! Yes. Why I washed my hands immediately aside from the reason that I'm anal and prefer to keep my arms clean: My grandmother and I went into the ikan area of the market. She was looking at the fishies, copping a feel, and weighing them. The stall has this little basin of water and lemon where you can wash your hands, and I don't think my grandmother washed hers too well. Immediately after buying fish, she grabs my arm with the same hand used for fish.
I sensed something amiss almost immediately as she grasped my arm! The fish! Yerrrr (hehehe). Before that, I was watching the lady debone a fish; I said that she made the deboning look so easily done, and that I should learn how. With my passing comment sent, my grandmother had to say that it would be good to learn if I can't earn a living and/or find a job.
Hot days pass as I learn to keep my mouth shut with no success.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Happy Birthday, Boon Ying!
hey woman,
haven't seen you in years. that's a lot of birthdays missed. how are you doing?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR BOON YING!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOU!!!
:)
k, reverting back to a regular post. i don't have much to say. happy dreams = bad dreams when you wake. too bad there's diddly squat i can do about that.
btw i recommend beck's "sea change" album.
where the hell is everyone tonight?
haven't seen you in years. that's a lot of birthdays missed. how are you doing?
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DEAR BOON YING!
HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOU!!!
:)
k, reverting back to a regular post. i don't have much to say. happy dreams = bad dreams when you wake. too bad there's diddly squat i can do about that.
btw i recommend beck's "sea change" album.
where the hell is everyone tonight?
Today I am 23
Happy birthday to me! Two more years to go and I'll be a quarter-century old! A big AWWWW to everyone who remembered, how sickeningly schweet. To everyone else who didn't remember, it's all good. Maybe if you don't wish me I won't get any older. Hehe, I wish :p
New things I learned today: apparently my editor has authority to sign my leave form for me. Found out this morning after my colleagues jokingly asked me why I was there because I was bitching to him last week about taking a couple of days off this week. When I asked where my editor-in-chief was so I could get my leave form signed, I was pretty disappointed when I heard he wouldn't be around for two days. Then my editor chipped in and said,"Eh, I can sign for you what, didn't you know? Just let me sign lah!" Yay, after working there for exactly one year and twelve days (give or take a day or two), I find out that my editor can sign my leave form for me. Haih.
So I took half-day leave today and an additional two more days after that. One day was replacement leave for working on Merdeka. I had to suppress myself from writing "because it's my birthday!!!" on the "Reason for Leave" box.
So happy.
New things I learned today: apparently my editor has authority to sign my leave form for me. Found out this morning after my colleagues jokingly asked me why I was there because I was bitching to him last week about taking a couple of days off this week. When I asked where my editor-in-chief was so I could get my leave form signed, I was pretty disappointed when I heard he wouldn't be around for two days. Then my editor chipped in and said,"Eh, I can sign for you what, didn't you know? Just let me sign lah!" Yay, after working there for exactly one year and twelve days (give or take a day or two), I find out that my editor can sign my leave form for me. Haih.
So I took half-day leave today and an additional two more days after that. One day was replacement leave for working on Merdeka. I had to suppress myself from writing "because it's my birthday!!!" on the "Reason for Leave" box.
So happy.
Requiescat
I'm thinking of my late grandfather. It's hard not to in this household of mine. Not that I try not to. My grandmother and aunt were watching tennis downstairs and they mentioned my paternal grandmother, which led me to think of how my paternal grandmother would speak to my late maternal grandfather.
That made me think of the time that we went to visit him at Nilai Memorial Park, a year after he had passed, and how my grandmother would speak out loud to my grandfather; just like what you see in the movies, y'know? Later that day we went to visit my aunt who was also there. She brought her a mango, because my aunt liked to eat mangoes in case you were wondering.
Now I am thinking of paying them a visit one of these days. No, I'm actually thinking of when KH went over this red painted two-brick high concrete that my grandfather put up so people wouldn't park in front of our house, and also how angry my grandfather was. The funny bit is that the day after he ran the concrete thing down, and also after my grandfather repainted it the same day, he ran over it again. It was less than 2km/h (because I cannot be sure of how fast 1km/h is).
That made me think of the time that we went to visit him at Nilai Memorial Park, a year after he had passed, and how my grandmother would speak out loud to my grandfather; just like what you see in the movies, y'know? Later that day we went to visit my aunt who was also there. She brought her a mango, because my aunt liked to eat mangoes in case you were wondering.
Now I am thinking of paying them a visit one of these days. No, I'm actually thinking of when KH went over this red painted two-brick high concrete that my grandfather put up so people wouldn't park in front of our house, and also how angry my grandfather was. The funny bit is that the day after he ran the concrete thing down, and also after my grandfather repainted it the same day, he ran over it again. It was less than 2km/h (because I cannot be sure of how fast 1km/h is).
Sunday, September 04, 2005
Heartstrong
That's the title of the song I'm listening to by Silvertide.
"I'm still standin' here, awkward and unaware,
as you scream the topic's closed and slam down the telephone.
But you swear that you still care and I'm still standin' here,
confused and somewhat drawn.
My head's lost but I'm heartstrong."
Heartstrong? Hah, far from it. Thank god for friends. I have AWESOME friends. They're so supportive and understanding. Even in the mess I'm in, I'm incredibly touched by how wonderful they are. I'm sorry if I'm a drag, I do appreciate everything you do for me. It's something that keeps me going. My parents don't understand why I sleep all day. Thought my mother would be more sympathetic, but she blamed me for what happened today, and I begged her to stop. She kept going on, as usual, till my father threatened to kick me out. That's my lovely family! :D
If you have no idea what I'm talking about, my boyfriend of 6.5 months recently broke up with me. 1 Sept 2005, to be exact. It took him a full minute to get it out, yet I knew what was coming. Longest 60 seconds of my life, ever. You might think, 6.5 months is nothing compared with 6-yr relationships some couples have ended. (Btw, between my friend and me, we know a whopping 13 couples who've broken up recently, all long-term.)
But I spent every day with him. We lived together. Maybe that was our problem. There are lots of factors, so I could spend all day analysing each one and never know. I don't want to get into the nitty-gritty, it just hurts too much. I just don't understand how I could've blindly thought we were happy all along, then BAM! "Something's missing." He still loves and cares for me, is attracted to me, yet... whatever. Fucking bullshit. If he stopped loving me, he should just own up to it instead of blaming it on feeling like it was an "adversarial relationship." If it was 'adversarial', I would've felt it, too. Instead, all I feel is love and the want to patch things up.
You can't just bail when things go wrong!!!
That's what I've learned from 3 serious relationships. He still needs to mature and figure that out. I'm so ashamed. Last night, after we went clubbing, I came home and begged him like a pathetic dog to take me back. He was so cold. All my pleas were met with a resounding "no." I can't even escape him in my dreams. Yesterday I dreamt he took me back, and I was deliriously happy till I woke. Another stab in the heart :)
He twisted the knife even deeper when I tried to remind him of our happy times, especially at the beach. I can't swim and I'm terrified of water. He put my arms around him and told me to hold on as he would never let go... I trusted him. Then this huge wave came and I freaked, accidentally kicked him in the balls. Even when he was in pain, he held on to me and I felt so safe... Afterward he wrote "I love you" in the sand.
"It was a fun trip." I'm sure he didn't mean it that way, but it came out wrong. I must stop thinking about the beach, about every happy memory, about all the promises of the future. It's easier to cope hating him for now. I really thought he might be the one... god knows how many people I told that when I was in Florida. I don't understand and I doubt I ever will. Hopefully in a few months, it won't matter that nothing made sense...
"I'm still standin' here, awkward and unaware,
as you scream the topic's closed and slam down the telephone.
But you swear that you still care and I'm still standin' here,
confused and somewhat drawn.
My head's lost but I'm heartstrong."
Heartstrong? Hah, far from it. Thank god for friends. I have AWESOME friends. They're so supportive and understanding. Even in the mess I'm in, I'm incredibly touched by how wonderful they are. I'm sorry if I'm a drag, I do appreciate everything you do for me. It's something that keeps me going. My parents don't understand why I sleep all day. Thought my mother would be more sympathetic, but she blamed me for what happened today, and I begged her to stop. She kept going on, as usual, till my father threatened to kick me out. That's my lovely family! :D
If you have no idea what I'm talking about, my boyfriend of 6.5 months recently broke up with me. 1 Sept 2005, to be exact. It took him a full minute to get it out, yet I knew what was coming. Longest 60 seconds of my life, ever. You might think, 6.5 months is nothing compared with 6-yr relationships some couples have ended. (Btw, between my friend and me, we know a whopping 13 couples who've broken up recently, all long-term.)
But I spent every day with him. We lived together. Maybe that was our problem. There are lots of factors, so I could spend all day analysing each one and never know. I don't want to get into the nitty-gritty, it just hurts too much. I just don't understand how I could've blindly thought we were happy all along, then BAM! "Something's missing." He still loves and cares for me, is attracted to me, yet... whatever. Fucking bullshit. If he stopped loving me, he should just own up to it instead of blaming it on feeling like it was an "adversarial relationship." If it was 'adversarial', I would've felt it, too. Instead, all I feel is love and the want to patch things up.
You can't just bail when things go wrong!!!
That's what I've learned from 3 serious relationships. He still needs to mature and figure that out. I'm so ashamed. Last night, after we went clubbing, I came home and begged him like a pathetic dog to take me back. He was so cold. All my pleas were met with a resounding "no." I can't even escape him in my dreams. Yesterday I dreamt he took me back, and I was deliriously happy till I woke. Another stab in the heart :)
He twisted the knife even deeper when I tried to remind him of our happy times, especially at the beach. I can't swim and I'm terrified of water. He put my arms around him and told me to hold on as he would never let go... I trusted him. Then this huge wave came and I freaked, accidentally kicked him in the balls. Even when he was in pain, he held on to me and I felt so safe... Afterward he wrote "I love you" in the sand.
"It was a fun trip." I'm sure he didn't mean it that way, but it came out wrong. I must stop thinking about the beach, about every happy memory, about all the promises of the future. It's easier to cope hating him for now. I really thought he might be the one... god knows how many people I told that when I was in Florida. I don't understand and I doubt I ever will. Hopefully in a few months, it won't matter that nothing made sense...
Hot Night?
I'm in this humid, damp-feeling room of mine again. My A/C and I are negotiating a peace treaty as I madly try to configure it to a mode other than "Scorch!" It's time to wash the filters again.
I went clubbing--sort of--yesterday; at barfly, I joined Aileen and the rest of the girls. As we approached, I saw Lis leaning on a car with handheld in... hand... to face. I smiled, but only to realise that I have bad timing.
She's upset, but she didn't let that get in the way of the/her night. I liked how she did that. It must have been really difficult to manage.
We proceeded to the Loft then onwards. I've never been there before tonight, and found it pretty nice in an average way as most clubs look like that. They played house music or something or rather.
We went to eat bak kut teh at SS2 much later, to cut things short. The night ended pretty well, yet I'm still awake... in my sauna-bedroom.
My mouse just went out of order. This is it. Peace!
I went clubbing--sort of--yesterday; at barfly, I joined Aileen and the rest of the girls. As we approached, I saw Lis leaning on a car with handheld in... hand... to face. I smiled, but only to realise that I have bad timing.
She's upset, but she didn't let that get in the way of the/her night. I liked how she did that. It must have been really difficult to manage.
We proceeded to the Loft then onwards. I've never been there before tonight, and found it pretty nice in an average way as most clubs look like that. They played house music or something or rather.
We went to eat bak kut teh at SS2 much later, to cut things short. The night ended pretty well, yet I'm still awake... in my sauna-bedroom.
My mouse just went out of order. This is it. Peace!
Saturday, September 03, 2005
Merdeka
I woke up today to the sweet smell of freedom.
Well, not really, but I thought I'd try to be poetic anyway, since I missed Merdeka by two days.
My morning was actually spent groggily at the dentist, which I stupidly made an appointment for at 11am. After last night, I could barely wake up this morning and my aunt sympathetically called them to arrange for a slightly later time at 12pm, so I got an extra hour of sleep. Was still groggy when I was dragged to Jaya Supermarket, which is where my dentist is, and was damn tired after my aunt made me walk up 4 flights of the spiralling staircase after her because she hasn't been there for years and missed walking up that staircase.
The dental visit itself wasn't so bad. Wasn't painful until I looked at the bill. Not getting to spend your parents' money anymore is a bit of a letdown sometimes. Came out with cleaner teeth and in a cheerier mood, since my teeth had been somewhat a bit of a depressing topic for me the past year or so. Realizing that I am not immortal and that some things just cannot be fixed made me actively try to take care of myself as much as possible.
Came home after that and have been on the computer since. Not having anything to do has never felt so great. It's like I truly understand the meaning of freedom now.
Happy belated Merdeka day for me, I guess.
Well, not really, but I thought I'd try to be poetic anyway, since I missed Merdeka by two days.
My morning was actually spent groggily at the dentist, which I stupidly made an appointment for at 11am. After last night, I could barely wake up this morning and my aunt sympathetically called them to arrange for a slightly later time at 12pm, so I got an extra hour of sleep. Was still groggy when I was dragged to Jaya Supermarket, which is where my dentist is, and was damn tired after my aunt made me walk up 4 flights of the spiralling staircase after her because she hasn't been there for years and missed walking up that staircase.
The dental visit itself wasn't so bad. Wasn't painful until I looked at the bill. Not getting to spend your parents' money anymore is a bit of a letdown sometimes. Came out with cleaner teeth and in a cheerier mood, since my teeth had been somewhat a bit of a depressing topic for me the past year or so. Realizing that I am not immortal and that some things just cannot be fixed made me actively try to take care of myself as much as possible.
Came home after that and have been on the computer since. Not having anything to do has never felt so great. It's like I truly understand the meaning of freedom now.
Happy belated Merdeka day for me, I guess.
2 a.m.
That was the time that I left work today. The magazine is finally finished. To those who don't quite know what I am talking about, I spent the whole of last week from Sunday till today working my ass off on the new magazine my company is publishing. The average time I left the office was 11.15pm, including on Merdeka. No thanks to the designer who left on her holiday, but as I explained on a previous post, it wasn't quite her fault.
I suppose it wouldn't have been so bad if I didn't also have freelance projects to do at the same time. So after I got off work at say, 11pm, and got home by 11.30pm, showered and cleaned myself up by 12am, I have to sit down and start on my freelance work. I ended up sleeping most of the week at 3am. I did leave earlier on Thursday because I wanted to rest so I could concentrate on work the next day, but I also had to make a sound loop out of a music track for my client. While doing that, I discovered that SoundForge automatically adds a short silence at the beginning and end of the track if you save it as an MP3 so it wouldn't loop seamlessly. I spent many a panicked hour trying to figure out why it was doing that to me. Then I tried saving the file as a WAV, and the problem disappeared. #$&^&#%#$. Ended up sleeping at 3am despite getting home at 10pm that night and starting on the loop at 11pm all because of that.
Now that everything is finally over, I suppose I should be exhilarated and shout and jump for joy right now, but my voice is hoarse and my body too tired. My voice has sort of died since Thursday night when I discovered that my voice has sorta changed. I can barely lift my fingers off the keyboard to type properly now. God knows why I even bother blogging about this now, instead of tomorrow when I am less tired, or even why I still bother to get everything grammatically correct. Must be because I am an anally retentive, paranoid prick of a person. Probably the same reason why I get my work out almost flawlessly every month without complaints from my bosses. Also probably why they love me so much.
I never want to go through this ever again. Going through this experience just makes me wonder, how do people who work in advertising companies that make them work like this all the time cope? Maybe they don't really. Who knows.
I suppose it wouldn't have been so bad if I didn't also have freelance projects to do at the same time. So after I got off work at say, 11pm, and got home by 11.30pm, showered and cleaned myself up by 12am, I have to sit down and start on my freelance work. I ended up sleeping most of the week at 3am. I did leave earlier on Thursday because I wanted to rest so I could concentrate on work the next day, but I also had to make a sound loop out of a music track for my client. While doing that, I discovered that SoundForge automatically adds a short silence at the beginning and end of the track if you save it as an MP3 so it wouldn't loop seamlessly. I spent many a panicked hour trying to figure out why it was doing that to me. Then I tried saving the file as a WAV, and the problem disappeared. #$&^&#%#$. Ended up sleeping at 3am despite getting home at 10pm that night and starting on the loop at 11pm all because of that.
Now that everything is finally over, I suppose I should be exhilarated and shout and jump for joy right now, but my voice is hoarse and my body too tired. My voice has sort of died since Thursday night when I discovered that my voice has sorta changed. I can barely lift my fingers off the keyboard to type properly now. God knows why I even bother blogging about this now, instead of tomorrow when I am less tired, or even why I still bother to get everything grammatically correct. Must be because I am an anally retentive, paranoid prick of a person. Probably the same reason why I get my work out almost flawlessly every month without complaints from my bosses. Also probably why they love me so much.
I never want to go through this ever again. Going through this experience just makes me wonder, how do people who work in advertising companies that make them work like this all the time cope? Maybe they don't really. Who knows.