Stop and smell the roses...

Valentines day.

A day of mushiness and roses and cupids and all that nonsense.

And I was quite happily part of that nonsense. Although it didn’t start like that at all.

* * *

But non V-Day stuff first – to get it out of the way.

This Morning...

The Law Dept – well, my class, some Yr 2s and the lecturers who were around – low sang in the conference room after Contract class today.



Venon generously brought the yee sang to uni, Ally and Venon bought the plates, I bought chopsticks too. Turns out more people were expected so Grace, Soo Jin, Shavan and I went off to Giant in Main Block to buy:

1. More plates
2. More chopsticks
3. Soft Drinks (at the request of Ms Kay Mi)
4. Disposable cups (for the drinks)

I paid for all of it – I didn’t ask Ms Kay Mi for money back. I don’t think it was that expensive anyway. Maybe I’ll ask her tomorrow.

At times like these, I really do love my Law class. They are awesome people.

The day trudged on as usual:

Lunch at Secret Recipe. I didn’t eat anything because I wasn’t hungry because I had eaten half a plastic container full of Secret Recipe cake that Arch had brought to Uni in the morning. That, plus the thought of later events, was making me queasy, so I decided to forgo lunch.

What else…

2 uneventful tutorials ending with a spitfire Kitson at Crime. That wore me out somewhat. Plus, I was supposed to be home by 5.30pm so I would be ready by 6.30pm. And my parents were late. And it was raining in Hartamas. Today is so not my day.

This Evening…

So I got home around 6pm. Had the quickest shower in the world. Dressed, got made up, fussed and all that. Ready by 6.30pm. But lo and behold, there would have to be a jam in Hartamas. Surprisingly I was surprised. I knew we were going to 1U but I didn’t think Hartamas would be jammed.

He got here around 7 something. Not that late – gave me a chance to read my new (old) Jeffery Archer (“As The Crow Flies”). I was so worrying about being late I wasn’t worried about the date. I was then so worried about the jams, I wasn’t worried about the date. Then, I was so engrossed in my book; I wasn’t worried about the date. Books are heaven sent…

After a few wrong turns and missed exits we eventually found ourselves on the right track and headed toward TTDI-area and within sight of 1U! Not that sitting in the car with him wasn’t ok – it was plenty fun (not that kinda of fun) but he’s a nice chap to talk to and we made conversation quite easily. I kinda fell into the habit of talking a lot but I managed to reign myself in quite well, if I may say so myself. I wasn’t as bad as the last one I reckon.

We got to the car park and the place was packed to the rafters, so parking was a bit difficult. People were calling on the phone and all so half the time we were distracted. Eventually found a “spot” next to a wall after like 15 minutes. We had to resort to stalking people at the end, but the spot we (well, he) found was like elsewhere.

Bickered over where Dome was. I was wrong. Dammit.

Got to the right one. Got seated. Ordered beverages. Were waiting for his friends to arrive. At this point its like 8.30pm.

His friends get to Dome at 9.15pm just as our food arrives. He (meaning my date) starts scoffing his food down like its air. He did say he was hungry.

I ordered the chicken and mushroom pie. Love that stuff. I only managed to finish half but he managed to finish that too. Dang guys and their never-ending stomachs and their godd*mn metabolism.

Oh, did I mention that this was a triple date? Yeah. Triple. As in three couples. Hilarity ensues.

The other guys are friends of the guy on my right so they fall in to the usual guy talk and whatnot. Fortunately for me the guys know me and know of me thanks to the Futsal comp and my omnipresence as photographer. That broke the ice somewhat. The other two ladies were more or less quiet. I had decided at the beginning of the whole thing that I would just treat this as:
a) a normal Wednesday date and not a Valentines dinner; and
b) a bunch of friends hanging out for dinner.
Option A was negated when one of his friends (who, as claimed by le guy, hasn’t had a date in 3 years) was so ecstatically happy at the prospect of having a date, kept calling her his “Valentine” and all that. Technically, that was what we all were, but it was so weird to have someone say it out loud and so often. Weird in a hilarious way, by the way.
Option B was on the occasion when he was eating and wasn’t up for much convo, so I entertained myself by chatting to the fellas and the girls and all. I hope he didn’t feel neglected. I had absolutely run out of topics of interest by the time we had hit the restaurant. I so suck.

Anyway, after the food was all eaten, we yakked about stuff like going out for drinks, and took photos and stuff. Apparently he doesn’t like drinking cos he comes out in black spots – eh? Yeah. That’s what he said. The guys wanted him to drink so he said he had to send me back and I was blur enough not to get the hint. Oh well, in the end he sent me home around 10.45pm and missed out on drinks with the guys. He gave me a rose in the car too! A really nice one – all dark-red and long stemmed.

Glorious. Gorgeous. Great smelling too.

The trip back home was uneventful apart from me having to bluster my way through telling him how to get back to Jalan Duta after dropping me back. My place is really easy to get to and from once you know how! Honest!

Well, he dropped me at the club house area thing and at this point I had no idea what to do. I couldn’t very well just walk out of the car without doing or saying anything in thanks, but I also didn’t want to throw myself all over him – not that I wanted to – in return for taking me out. So as I unlocked the car door, I pondered (at the speed of light, I swear) what to do and after opening the door half way, turned around and smooched him on the cheek. I figured, that should be enough… not too forward, but not too ungrateful either. Lea agrees with that so I feel pretty justified.

Strange though: he lingered around in the car for a bit before driving off after I got out. I wonder what he was thinking…

* * *

So end of eventful 14th February 2007. May next year’s be just as fun, and but less stressful – please!

So plans for tomorrow:

• Lunch with Sin Yew? Unconfirmed. I may not want to wake up so early…
• Negotiation at 3pm with Aishah, Marcus and Zarin.
• Finish at 4pm.
• 4 – 6pm: Netball training! Yay! Running around-ness!

Oh, and I also mentioned (because he asked) that I was going to training tomorrow so we shall see if he turns up. It’s gonna be quite awkward. I dunno. I hope the girls don’t catch on… haha!

Must remember to pack netball clothes for tomorrow. T-shirt, shorts, socks and trainers. Remember remember…

* * *

And in regards to future liaisons with above mentioned male – I would not be object to additional meetings but will refrain from making quick judgements about the status of our relationship. As it stands, I see him as a possible associate of the romantic kind but will continue to treat him as a friend until such feelings of compatibility are made clear on his part.

Ooo I wonder how training is gonna go tomorrow…

Addendum extrias

Wow, so much to write today.

1. I have discovered colours!

Blogging is so much more fun when you can write like you talk and emphasize things in an interesting way. I don’t have a complex system of colour-coded inflections or hand gestures, but whatever seems to fit right, that’s how it is.

I think Gmail’s got the right interface for it. It works a lot better than the Blogger.com one I think.

2. I freak out over stupid things

Not to say that I have freaked out lately, but I don’t stress-out to the right things.
Example:
Subject – exams, Stress level – low
Subject – Boys, Stress level – high

I’m so stupid.

3. Yay! Top Gear has finished downloading!

I have been waiting for the torrent of the first episode of the latest Season of Top Gear (Season 9) to finish loading. I’ve waited since it came out. I’ve waited since FinalGear.com said their encoder was on leave or something. I’ve waited since the other encoder guy crashed his encoding device.

And it’s finally done! Salvation!

* * *

I think I know why I want to be in control so much. I don’t like dredging up the past but maybe because I had so little control last times that it’s affected me now.

There was another more reasonable explanation, but I’ve forgotten.

Sorry. Kinda like an anti-climax.

* * *

And I just thought of this:

Lewd Joke Alert!

Why is the sea so salty?

…?

Because it’s full of semen (sea-men)

…

I’m so gross. Hahaha!

Strange one for me.

10.31pm
It’s amazing how insecure I feel right now. I’m shocked by it myself. It’s not like a physical ache or something where you thump in and its temporarily relieved; kinda like an “Eugh” inside.
And as you know, it will probably be boy related.

I’m not longing for this one. Seriously. I am so not there yet. I dunno what it is. I had the word in my head a while ago – lost it.

Ok, lets see.

I don’t like him that much. I think he’s entertaining.

Oh I think I know what this is. I hate waiting for the phone to beep. Anxiety. That’s the word.

I think for me there are different levels of anxiety in terms of boy-related issues.

Low: waiting for the phone to beep
Medium: waiting for the phone to ring because he said he would call.
Higher than Medium: Waiting for the phone to ring for no reason
High: Uber-paranoia.

And for some retarded reason, I always manage to talk myself out of high anxiety situations. It’s harder than in Medium-anxiety situations. I guess the freaking out is so extreme even I can realised the ridiculousness of it.

There is a quick remedy to handling such phone-related anxiety, I have discovered. I just turn off my phone. Even if – oh, I don’t know – there is absolutely no reason for it, and it’s not like I get calls often, it’s just so calming and all of a sudden, the stress and anxiety is gone. I’ve taken back control. Maybe I’m a closet control freak.

That would make some sense I guess.

Now how does one NOT be a control freak…? Environmental factors have to be changed I guess.

* * *

Sigh. That’s the damn thing I hate about SMSes - the lag time. I always reply messages as soon as I can – unless I forget, then it can’t be helped. But lately I’ve been deliberately delaying sending messages. I wanted people to wait for them, just like they made me wait. Writing that down makes it sound so childish and not at all cool. More revelations to come I suppose.

Well, I’ve gotten past the whole anxiety thing. I don’t know what my time limit is on anxiety. Depends on what I’m doing other than waiting and how urgent I think it is. I should test it out one day when I’m thinking clearer.

* * *

Oh and if I have not yet mentioned:

I have a date for Valentine’s Day! Haha first time like… EVER. Hope I don’t scare him away tho. That would be crushing. Crushing, but not fatal.

And I’m more or less indifferent to Valentine’s Day this year. Like two years ago I was very anti-V day. Last year and this year I just don’t care. Even this year, where I am doing something “special”, there doesn’t seem to be a major change of perception. I don’t hate it, but I won’t say “yay! Flowers!” either. Tho flowers are nice.

Heh. Actually discussing a date is weird. I wonder if he’s actually serious. Oo those little butterflies are back (metaphor).

I don’t know what the dynamic here is. It’s strange because I don’t know whether I came on to him or the other way round. Here comes the control freak again. I’d at least like to know. But one can’t ask straight out loud, you see. Have to play by the rules of the game. The Dating Game.

And I promised my self that I wouldn’t play games. Ok, so you can’t completely not play. But I guess I have to try and minimise game-playing. I’ve gotten good advice from several corners (of the world) so we shall see. We’re always seeing. What happens when you don’t see it?

* * *

Is there anyway of acting (not completely, but somewhat) nonchalant and still getting a guy to fawn all over you? Because that would be bliss. With the exception of stalkers and the like.

Futsal, Do not Pass Go

Right.

So the whole futsal episode was mini joke thing within the team. No biggie. No. Really. I’m totally fine. Dropped a hint with the middle dude so... will see how news travels. Not waiting on anything tho.

Tomorrow’s going to be a crazy busy day.

In chronological order:

• Up at 12pm (yeah late start, so what)
• Lunch with Nadia (maybe)
• Back in Uni at 2pm
• Research moot question with Char, Arch, Nads and Ally
• To Mont Kiara at 4.30pm
• End at 6.30pm

I was supposed to have dinner with Squish but that’s been changed to Friday. Maybe.

Possibility of going to Maison’s with Ally and co. Apparently it’s some birthdays or whatnot.
Pros of going: fun fun! Dancing. Socialing. Looking cool. Get to wear hot clothes. Get to stay out late. Cute guys. Get to drink.
Cons: smokey, very smokey. Very crowded. May end up being wallflower. May not know people there. Get to drink.

I don’t know. I’ll decide possibly tomorrow and let Ally know. I may have to stay over her place again.

Going to watch Kitson’s DVD set, Season 1 of “Murder One”. Good ass show.

* * *

I now have all the skills and information to be an effective stalker. Thank your lucky stars you aren’t hot enough for me to bother with. I don’t consider myself the stalker type. That’s way too obvious. I take more of the hunter-trapper approach. Although I already told Lea that I would stop playing games. Games are only fun if people play along.

Whoops. And today's forecast is...

And in all that mumbling about blog post comments I totally forgot to recount today. Nothing too fancy. Just damn timetable changes I was NOT informed of.

Now classes are really scheduled weird.
Monday: 8am - 4.30pm
Tuesday: 10am – 3pm
Wednesday: 8am – 4.30pm
Thursday: 9am - 11am
Friday: Nix

Thursday classes are called off for the recent weeks because of negotiation assessment.



Compared to the last timetable we had, this sucks balls man. The last one was totally awesome, with awesome breaks and awesome class times. Man, I hate rescheduling.

I guess it could be worse. My friend up in Nilai (I think) is doing Engineering and his timetable is pretty harsh.

Oh, and LMS first thing Monday morning. Abso-friggin-lutely great. Lets hope it’s not a replay of the Year Two’s nightmare last year.

* * *

Feeling better. As usual. I really need to crack down and get mucho studying done-o.

My bad is your bad is my bad. What?

Snot-nosed little wanker.

That’s the only thing that’s running thru my mind at the moment. And I was in such a good mood before…

Let me rant about this for a while before I recount today and Futsal day for you.

Very well you little prick. Point taken. I shouldn’t have been so quick to judge the fellow seeing as he turned out to be a nice guy and not as creepy as initially assumed. I suppose creepy was a harsh word to use but appropriate at the time.

I’m not going to remind you that I can’t change my upbringing and if it shows in this blog then so be it. As for being a snob, I can’t say it’s the first time I’ve been called that but I damn well won’t apologise for wanting to be treated with respect. If a person directly tells you to stop saying something because it’s creepy, I’d expect some courtesy and hope they at least consider it – no, rephrase. They should bloody well consider it.

I will not, and repeat will not apologise for assumptions made. I write these at the spur of the moment and like hell I care if I do the proper research at the time. You are free to correct me if I’m wrong and I graciously accept that I made a booboo there. Financial or otherwise, I can’t help where I went to school and neither can you. Life’s unfair like that and it’s not like I’ve never wanted to be like a normal kid and got to a normal school. If you can make assumptions about me, then I can damn well make assumptions about you. I am neither rich, nor wealthy. Believe it.

I don’t get the line of reasoning that if a girl has a boyfriend, she’s snobbish. I really don’t follow. Or even the other way around. If she’s a snob, she has a boyfriend? I’d rather think it’s the reverse – if she’s nice, then wouldn’t it be more likely that she’s taken? Yeah. That I don’t get so – feel free to let me know how that works.

And the annoying thing about long comment posts is that I have to keep referring to them. Oh well. For the sake of consistency, I’ll go thru it all.

And the last bit about wanting to learn about culture – I (I can’t say for everyone) hate it when people beat around the bush. That is, if you want to know something, just ask. Don’t be a smart ass about it. If it’s a genuine question, then I’m pretty sure I won’t bite your head off unless I’m in a foul mood of whatever – and I’d tell you if I was.

AND just so that we are clear – I know people from Chinese schools. I do. I really know them. I like these people. They are cool. But the difference is that I know them in person. They are non-threatening beings to me. They have their quirks and I get that. But whatever – being curious about people doesn’t automatically give you the right to ask them personal questions. ESPECIALLY if they have already made it clear that they don’t know who you are. That’s borderline stalker to me. That’s the buggin’ point. And my Chinese school friends? They don’t do that. So it is totally possible from someone from that background to understand boundaries. You see why I find him a little off?

And HELLO. If you haven’t noticed, it’s not that easy to be super-confident all the time. Not like I’m super-confident even half the time. It varies. I don’t think it’s an issue unless it’s low like most of the time. Which is why I blog it out. Blogging clears the head and clarifies all the doubts and niggling thoughts I have. Enables me to function like a normal, confident person.

I try to be humble. Sort of. I forget sometimes. I don’t automatically think I’m the best at what I do, but I figure I’m not too shabby at it. And if I ever make cracks that I am really good at something, then I’m totally joking. No, seriously. Self praise is no praise and I absolutely agree. Although mother-of-mine would say that if you don’t praise yourself, who will. I suppose it’s a dog-eat-dog world out there and sometimes you have to perk yourself up. But I never do it in public. Parents are enough of an ego boost when you really need it. Can’t rely on parents for even that tho – veeeeery unpredictable beings, they are.

I don’t like being emo. But I am. Sometimes. Not often, thank God.

And buddy, if you think I’m arrogant – tell me how and why and I’ll get back to you in 2 working days. In the meantime – bite me. Don’t go criticising my writing and put a lame “no offence” at the end. Dude – read your own post and see if anyone’s going to take offence. If you wrote down your thoughts, feelings and emotions and someone picked it up and laughed at it, wouldn’t you feel offended? I sure as hell do. And at this point, I don’t think an apology would cover it. Too pissed off right now. I may calm down in a day or two.

P.S. And after re-reading, I would just like to say, I have the Godd*mn right to say whatever I want because of the Constitution. It’s called freedom of expression. So whatever assumptions I make are my right and my right alone. Just like you have to right to rebut my assumptions. With proof please, as you are encroaching onto my cyber property. Don’t make me put up one of those annoying disclaimers on this blog.

* * *

Sigh. I don’t like feeling like I have wasted time doing something I thought was important only to later feel like it was a waste. I hope that that wasn’t a waste. Tho, to be fair to myself, I don’t think I could have concentrated with that bouncing around my head.

Ah, what else…

Oh yes, the Futsal for Flood Relief! Friday was awesome. The futsal was fantastic, the refs were awesome, Michelle was close to hyperventilating but it all came together and it was all worth it just to see the finals. Like I said, the futsal was totally ripping! Actually, the semis were better in a sense that there were 2 really good teams – the finalists – and the semis were where they both shone. The finals were rather anti climatic cos one team dominated the whole game. Thought it would be closer.

Lotsa cute guys. I use the term “lots” loosely but I did spot a couple of glance-worthy fellows. Some personal drama, but a little on that later. Loads of people turned up just to watch! So the bleachers were packed and lots of cheering going on – especially from Alpha-Q’s section!

Say Alpha-Q really fast.
Cheeky name.

AQ consisted of the boys from my L1 class so the girlies were there in full force – gotta support our lads! They didn’t make it past the groups tho.

Oh and about personal drama – not so much drama as, intrigue. I was self-appointed photographer person (alongside Adrian) for the semis onwards. I like Michelle’s newer camera – it’s fast and really clear. Anyway, me was taking pics of the 3rd-4th match warm up. The medic dude of the day comes up to me and tells me one of his friends wants to know me better. O-kaaaaay… I semi-freak (good description of what I went thru in all of 5 seconds) and say ok, glance to where he points and says “next to the goalie”, and I sorta scurry over to Jia who was on the pitch briefing blokes. I cling to him for support (poor guy has to deal with me freaking). Nothing like this ever happens to me. I have no idea how I’m supposed to react. Jia looks over for me and says “he’s ok what.” Ok. So I have at least a second opinion. Would have been better if Jia knew him or what. End part one.

Part two is short. Its pre-finals time and teams are warming up. I’m sitting with scoreboard and people and Jia’s there. I ask him which one’s that one. He points out guy. I consider: ok, not bad. None of them are bad although he’s on the team with James V. That fella, I know (not too well, but I know his bro. Same same, I guess). Oh, I forgot to mention, that the guy the medic dude pointed to was on one of the finals teams. Yeah, and it’s pretty easy to figure out the “team”.

Plus, I’ve been running up and down taking pictures or futsal goings-on so people pretty much know me as photogirl or some variation of that. Especially that team to seem particularly photo-happy.

Part three (Part two’s over. I don’t have to spell it out to you, right?).It’s really pre-finals time, like before they kick-off. And out of the blue, they holler “Photo!” I expect Adrian or some other to run to snap shots, but alas, my name is called and I have to rush off to find a camera after passing mine off to Michelle (I wanted to retire my photographing career – the camera I used before wasn’t good). Kirsty offered to let me take photos with her camera – little Sony action there – but I didn’t really like it and I asked her to take it for me while I try n find Michelle. I run out to find Michelle’s awesome newer camera (Canon, bless your soul) and race back to take photos. Tell se sooner, why don’t you.

Teams line up and I snap away. Dude who was scoping me out was dorky. That’s all I’m saying. I don’t even know if it is really him. An adorable sorta dorky. I’m trying to not get ahead of myself here. He will henceforth be refered to as d’ork – not in a demeaning manner, but it’s easier for me to refer to him later. I do know his name, but no way am I putting it up here. It’s not necessary for the storyline anyway.

So I have formulated a plan of action. Lea knows. I know. Details are to be confirmed. Just one more phone call to make. And we shall see how it pans out.

As for the end result, I’m not expecting much. I’m tentatively leaving in Sept so a fling is max what I expect. Wow, I’ve never had a fling before. Hah. See how I guess.

* * *

I love it when people write nice comments on blogs. On any blog, not just mine. It shows appreciation, and gratitude. I don’t expect comments and when I do, nothing ever comes up anyway. I try to leave nice comments on blogs that I read and that I want the writer to know that I read. It’s a complex system of politics but it works in a sense. The balance is kept and everyone’s happy. I don’t like leaving anonymous comments but I will if I know the writer and I don’t want them to know me. I might unhinge things in a way. To each his own, I guess.

Royalty suits me

Addison: There is a land called Passive Agressiva, and I am their queen
-Grey's Anatomy

Yeap. That’s me.

Case in point:

I went out with old friend who is back in town for a couple of weeks. Note, it’s 10.30pm and we’re off to mid valley to yum cha and hang out or whatever. Had to convince dad to drop me at the mall – wasn’t so jammed so that was rather stress free. Fast forward to about mid-night. I get a call from aforementioned father saying to call him when I get into the cab on the way to my friend’s house where he will be waiting to whisk me back home. Finding a willing cab is tough and it takes about 5 minutes before we find one which: 1) is willing, and 2) knows where to go. In the meanwhile I’m joking with my friend’s friend (from Kenya incidentally) about South Park and as a result, forget to call dad from the cab. We are 5 minutes into the journey and I remember. Dial the number and all I hear from the other side is high-anxiety and a rather perturbed parental figure. Not rather perturbed, he’s pretty much screaming “why didn’t you call me sooner?” etcetera etcetera. As I reach my friend’s place, dad is obviously not here yet so I go in and chill out in her study room for a bit. 15 minutes go by and I am wondering where daddykins may be. I do not want to call because, in reference to the last phone conversation, I do not wish to irritate him any further. However, the phone rings and lo and behold, it is an even angrier voice saying “where are you and why didn’t you call as soon as you got to her house”

At this point, all I’m concerned about is damage control.

Let me take a moment to clarify who I see interactions with people, whether between me and another person, or between people in general. It’s usually all attack and defence I think. Not to say it’s all hostile, I mean, countries can have peaceful negotiations too but when things get emotional, that’s all it really boils down to.

So after being “attacked” by the superior being in a singlet and shorts, I have no choice but to defend myself as well as I can. Minimise damage, regroup and plan out the next move.

Well, first I have to withstand a 10 minute barrage from the person on my right. I timed it. See how long I could last. Test out the waters: any sound that comes out of my throat is met with extreme hostility so I try to not say anything or even breathe. At about minute 7, I realise I haven’t swallowed since I left my friends house. Of course, I have to answer his inane questions to which any reply is the wrong one. He already knows the answer and anything short of “I’m dying” or “I think the engine just blew up” would increase his propensity to yell at me.

Ah, and as a further avoidary tactic, I stare glumly at the keyhole in the glove box, feigning repentance and sorrow. I don’t think I was too convincing in the beginning because I forgot the wry smile I had on my face. After removing that, however, things calmed down somewhat.

While pondering the complexities of keys and glove boxes, I plan out my next move. It’s too early for a counter-attack, so further damage control is warranted. I know from past experience that as soon as home is reached, mother will be contacted and join father in their formation of attack. And because I know this, I have the upper hand. To avoid such confrontation with would never ever go in my favour (two-v-one, very small apartment) I plan to head straight to my room, tidy it up as best possible, change clothes, lock the door and finish my latest Jeffrey Archer.

Doorstep. Quickstep towards my room. Change. Tidy. Damn. My book is outside. Peer tentatively outside the room. Parents watching heroes. Double damn. Oh well. Book is about 7 metres ahead. Walk casually up to it. Look straight ahead. Grab it. Turn away from parents and head back to room. “Do some studying.” Grrr. They saw me. Return to safe zone. Lock door. Mission accomplished.

Next morning, my door remains locked and no signs of parents stirring from mandatory sleep. It’s still pretty early. I decide on the silent treatment. Meanwhile, I read messages on handphone and get on with drawing up group stage futsal tables on the computer. 20 mintues into that, mother awakes and offers breakfast. Half boiled eggs and toast. Not a bad treaty so I agree. Dad’s not fully up yet (placing a deposit with the sewage company). Eggs and toast seal the deal but she had to spoil it right at the end. “Why didn’t you call him yesterday? Show some respect.” I sigh inside. Fine. I can deal with this for the rest of the day. My throat is rather clogged up for talking with anyway.

I return to scrawling out tables on MS Word. While dad awakes and walks around the house, he tries to start up conversation. I repeatedly ignore him. Not that I want an apology, but the temper tantrums have to stop. More rehabilitation than retribution. Eventually he apologises. “Sorry for yelling at you yesterday. What time do you need to go to your friend’s house?” Offers of peace to end the cold front. I decide he’s had enough and while I’m watching the trailer for “The Rise of the Silver Surfer” I ask him what time Heroes is on today. We have a mini conversation and he leaves a little cheerier.

Now all I have to do is change mother’s mind about yesterday now that dad has relented (that’s the word I was looking for). Mother’s mind is harder to change. She’s rather stubborn – in a stupid kind of way. At least when dad decides something, he uses either logic or emotion, and if his emotional decisions don’t gel with his logic, he’ll admit it. Mother is rather like a bloodhound – she’ll follow a decision regardless of where it came from or where it’s going. Making her turn around will be harder. I have yet to find a quick and effective method of getting round her. But it will be found eventually.

* * *

Nose is still really irritating me. I don’t feel woozy anymore but the running nose is spoiling my fluid balance and wasting tissues.

I’m gonna look horrible tomorrow. Hopefully I won’t have to referee unless I really really have to. See how I can wrangle my way out of this.

Pain in the Neck, literally. HAH

I am freaking pissed off.

Various reasons are as follows:

Main Source of irritation: Parents. Who else?

I’m just lying on my bed chatting away on my computer and my busybody father sits next to me and goes “you're getting bald on the back of your head!”

Yeah, big shock. I have really fine hair and not much of it and pointing it out isn’t going to help it any. My parents know about my hair so I don’t know why they bring it up. They’ve even paid for some hair package thing in Mont’ Kiara. I go there sometimes.

Yeah, so my mum comes in and they both prod and poke at my tiny cranium as if hitting the right pressure points will make hair spring up like zombies in a bad horror flick.

You know that saying: If you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all? My parents are hypocrites. But that’s a rant for another day.

Other irritants: Yearbook Issues

It’s too fking expensive. I hate not having money for things like these. It’s not my fault.

Other Other Irritants: Soreness

The throat issue has worsened and I may be getting sick. Thanks so much bacteria of the world.

* * *

In other news…

Law ball’s coming up and I am, as usual, dateless. Not that I want one or am expecting anyone to ask me. I’ve gone thru that, and unless I’m safe and secure that we are totally platonic, I don’t want to risk it. Ever. Again.

Futsal’s on Friday and I may be staying over at Michelle’s. Bless her little energetic heart.

* * *

The crimson tide is waning and this cycle hasn’t been too harsh. There’s been the usual bloating and cravings for food but nothing to get teary-eyed over. I’m having the major mood swings tho. Eugh. Those can be a bitch too. At least with the cramps you can legitimately say you’re in pain and are there for cranky. With moodiness, you can’t (“I’m feeling really emo! Stay the hell away from me!”).

* * *

Note to dad: stop being such a pussy.
If you don’t want to get pinched:
1. Stop being annoying
2. Start learning how to tell if ppl are PMS-ing
3. Stop coming near me when I’m on my bed
4. Realise that I pinch
5. Stop telling me to go to sleep. I want to, I am tired, I don’t need another reminder from YOU.

Literary Garbage.

Jaspal’s in a foul mood.
The embodiment of PMS.
And all this after our food,
Causes us much distress.

We arrive back from an hour break
Where we laughed and joked around.
Only to return and have her take
Our smiles into sad frowns.

I suppose I understand what she means,
She wants us to listen and be alert.
But now in class all is not what it seems,
As we half listen with a smirk.

Our eyelids are heavy,
Our tongues are quiet
Pity the beavy,
Restricted overt.

Whatever she says,
Goes in and ear then out
For all the fees we pay
All I can do is sit here then pout.

She’s reading from the OHP
There are no notes we can refer
The writing’s too tiny to see,
Every agrees, we confer.

She talks about decorum,
With a scowl on her “face”
Then pretends to be our “chum”
While putting us in our place.

This lecturer is confusing me
The year two’s says she’s great.
What makes her great I cannot see?
I’m reluctant to say “hate”.

Luckily I’ve covered this subject
In months, in A-levels before.
To Ms. V, I may object
This is affecting my educational core.

She’s getting more interesting now
People are actually laughing
Sigh. I’m not bothered, I don’t give a cow
My throat is hella chaffing

Oh crap, she’s giving us a quiz
I wasn’t paying attention
I’m going to melt, I’m going to fizz
Out before she gives me detention.

Here she goes again
Digressing off a pointless tangent
Sitting in her class is torture, it’s a pain
Her voice is like a plangent

I may be coming up with a fever.
My throat aint feeling too well.
I’m thinking of the Epic Movie beaver
I’m zoning out, oh shit, what the hell.

This isn’t my best work
Born out of irritation and boredom.
Reading cases I want to shirk.
Or I‘ll end up in snoredom.

* * *

Written in LMS class one bored Monday morning. If you show this to her, God help you. You won’t be able to feel your face…

The Long Thursday-to-Sunday

I feel really tired. It’s a culmination of lotsa jumping around and not much sleep together with a lil bit of worry for a friend.

Here’s the breakdown:

THURSDAY

10am something
Went to Uni
11.30am
Go to Legal Skills tutorial.
Vijaya is uncharacteristically late. We were thinking of ditching but couldn’t bear the thought of having replacement class –same time next week – so those who were there stuck it out and she finally dropped by.
1pm
Tutorial ends. Boys come back from futsal and rest of the people head to The Curve to sing and eat or something. I am stuck waiting for Sin Yew, Kay Mi and Vasantha. Have resigned myself to slumming around the computer lab.
2pm-ish
Sin Yew shows up. Says Kay Mi is sick and won’t be joining the meeting and but go ahead anyway.
Mr. New goes to See Ms. V and comes back to say she says no meeting because there’s not much to discuss and Kay Mi is not there.
I am (understandably?) fuming.
2.30pm-ish
Sin Yew and I catch a cab to The Curve. Parents have agreed to send me there at 3.30 but I forgo that and go there early. Foolishly forget to tell them I’m there. They don’t mind that much. Well they minded – minded more than I thought – but not like angry minded.
3pm
Reach The Curve. Enter Red Box. Hilarious karaoke session. All is forgotten. Sing the blues away. Have consequently lost my harmonious voice. Not as raspy as yesterday, but still pleasantly husky.
8.30pm
Karaoke ends. People have left early anyway. I race to the Royale Bintang Hotel to get picked up.
Have arranged with Alina to stay over at her house because we’re going to Maison’s later. I neglect (0=) to tell parents about Maison. Am worried about her as she has invited her ex-bf to stay over. Rocky relationship due to many factors.
10pm
Get dropped off at Ally’s.
11.45pm
Finally reach Maison after a lot of picking up people from homes and KL Sentral. Talked a bit to her ex-bf. Have yet to worm the story out of him. Pretend to know nothing of Ally’s issues.
He trails her quite a bit. She doesn’t seem to mind. The bunch of us dance around etc. I get tired and sit out. Peter joins me as smoky atmosphere is affecting us both. Apparently my eyes are red. We chat about Ally and issues. He has theories, which are agreed, but seems to offer no solution. Must find other way of resolving continuing problem.

FRIDAY

3am
Leave Maison as it is closing. Kirsty has joined us earlier in the night. Very good dancer she. We all head out to Murnies for mamak. Were introduced to Kirsty’s cousin and old school mates. Nice people.
3.45am
Go back to Ally’s place. Everyone tired so all sleep within the hour.
9.55am
I wake up because air-con is freezing and v dry. Wash up and go down stairs. Discover Ally’s puppy poodle Teddy and decide to give him some training. V entertaining which keeps me busy for an hour till 11am.
11am
Wake Ally up. She has to send ex-bf and I back – him to bball and me home. Unforch she has asked to wait in his school while he plays bball before going to pick up her other ex-bf – this one more recent.
While Ally is showering and etc, get a chance to chat with ex-bf and find out schematics of relationship. Not considering this sneaky because Ally invited me over and I figure why not. Manage to get some interesting info – most of which I can’t recall now bcos too sleepy.
Conclude that problem lies with both of them but easier to get boy to leave well enough alone than girl. Solution found – implementation will be more difficult. Will only volunteer opinion if asked. Will probably not be asked.
12pm
Reach home. Ally and boy drive off. Nagging worries still around. Get home and have a shower.
1.30pm
Go downstairs to eat. Get text message from Ally – she is bored. At least she’s not focused on ex-boy. Eat nasi lemak and message. Also read Jeffery Archer. Laze around poolside. Getting sleepy.
3pm
Go up stairs. Watch a bit of TV. Go to room and nap.
7pm
Parents are home. Dinner is ready. Baked beans and rice – sounds eugh but is yummy. Remember it is Friday night but don’t care. Ready to sleep in.
8.30pm
No football on telly so retreat to study room to mess around on computer. Forget what I did. Was probably pointless.
12am
Even though sleepy, still stay up. Will sleep now.

SATURDAY

8.45am
Wake up.
9.10am
Get up.
10am
Moot workshop. Nani is there, as is Vijaya. Interesting, ok talk about preparing for moot. Kamraj is not there yet – playing paintball – he sounds cool.
12pm
Kamraj arrives. Nice guy, and though talks slow, if one listens, it’s very educational.
12.45pm
Go for lunch with Sin Yew, Adrian, Li Ann and Yau Jun. the last two are a couple as observes by Kay Mi. Went to Jalan Batai. Close to Main Block. Ordered rojak – having forgotten I only like the pineapple. Adrian and Yau Jun help me finish it. Will try to remember small fact about self and rojak next time.
1.30pm
In KFC buying take away lunch for parents. Go home with food after getting picked up.
2pm
Am home. Mum is steam-cleaning the house. Looks rather like pest control was around. Pictures are on the floor and all the lights are on. They eat lunch. I slum in study room. Am being constantly nagged about clearing room and toilet issues. I do not like cleaning the toilet.
5pm
Supposed to be going to church at 6pm. Dad is sleeping. Do not think church is likely.
6.15pm
I am right. Will go tomorrow. I do not wish to go. Sorry Jesus and His dad and my dad. Will probably be too tired.
8pm
Go to Meng Chuan to eat sang meen and hor fun. Nice food. All full up. Have honey dew sago for dessert. Yay.
10pm
Get home. Jump on computer. Parents watch dvd – very loud. Apparently Manchester v Portsmouth today. Good luck boys.

SUNDAY

12.45am
Start blog entry. Looking for pictures.

* * *

Once I stop trying, it just seems to come naturally. What is it about me that makes me so tense when I try? Gotta see if I can’t work it out.

* * *

Uh oh. I hear the TV guys say "GOAL!". Will investigate later.

Pikat, what?

I think I may have finally figured out where Venon got that "You have a boyfriend, right?" remark from.

A while back in December or November or something I was chatting with Charlaine and Arch and all about the fella (who is now long gone).

Maybe the told him about him? Dunno. Hope that's the case anyway.

Either way, I don't fancy getting chased after any fella who uses the word "pikat" to "woo" me. It's just... creepy.

I'm not a huge fan of BM so shove it.

Impending Bad Day Syndrome (IBDS)

I’m not having a bad day.



I seriously have no thoughts about putting a smile on my face at this particular moment. It feels as if I have lead weights dragging my face down. It’s rather depressing to think about. So I’m trying not to.

Here are the things, in no particular order, which have affected me throughout today.

Here comes Aunt Flo

And with that comes *ouch* period cramps, gastric aches, wind, gassiness, intestinal discomfort and the ever popular cramps. The last one has yet to hit. I have this on-and-off feeling that I need to poop but I think that’s the wind. But then again, you can never be sure.

I may have to call upon the hot water bottle before the night is out.



I’m cranky and I have aches everywhere – joint-wise. I’m all bloated and totally uncomfortable.

Exhaustive-ness

I don’t feel comfortable calling it exhaustion, because I don’t want to detract from the seriousness that the term “exhaustion” connotes. People pass out from exhaustion. I just feel… exhausted. Not lethargic, but slightly achy and generally out of energy.



I guess it could be linked to the periods. Also, every time I move anywhere it’s an effort. Even blinking has become somewhat of a chore. I really do need more sleep. In general.

Tomorrow is going to suck

Tomorrow I am supposed to have class till 1pm, then follow my friends to the Curve for this months Birthday bash in Red Box (Karaoke Style!). Love karaoke, I do.

But change of plans thanks to mortal intervention.

Turns out I have to attend an Editorial Meeting with Vasantha at 3pm. Tomorrow. Which means that I could only possibly get to The Curve by 3.30pm, earliest. As the event at The Curve lasts until 9pm, that shouldn’t be a problem. There’s an issue of whether I want to bother going too but that’s a 50-50 thing. I’ll decide tomorrow. See how I feel.



BUT as it turns out, my parents don’t want me to go to The Curve. I asked and they said no and gave no reason even when asked. I didn’t try very hard to convince them tho. I’ll probably see how I feel about it tomorrow.

But the fact that I’m technically not allowed to go is bumming me out further. I know I’ll probably be able to go but I feel that it would be redundant to ask if it turns out that I don’t want to go.

Should I try and persuade them? Maybe I should.

Money ain’t flowing in like it should

The editorial board is producing a yearbook cum magazine for the Law Society that will document the activities of the Law Society and its students. It’s more fun that it sounds.



It’s going to cost some moneh tho. That’s where sponsorship comes in. the total cost will be in the thousands but that’s no big surprise.

HOWEVER the precious little squirt that’s in charge of sponsorship is moving at the speed of a glacier, so I suspect that by the time any money starts showing up, the project will be scrapped (we have until the end of March, then we start publication).

AND because of stupid department policy, any sponsorship we get goes straight to the consolidated fund, not to our Editorial Board. And because the Law Ball is occurs before our publication, they not only get priority, they will also probably use up all the money first. Not to mention, the Law Ball made a loss last year.



So you can see how totally stoked I am about the meeting tomorrow.

They want us to reduce costs to RM10,000 for 1,000 books. That’s RM10 per book. It’s doable, but it’ll look like shit – not worth doing in my opinion. So basically everything relies on sponsorship – but even contributions to that might not even reach us.

Guys and their spots

No, not zits. It’s like how leopards can’t change their spots.

There’s this guy in my intake (being general here, never know who’s lurking around)… actually, you’ll probably be able to figure out who he is. Whatever, I’ll start from the middle.

He saw this supposed “hot” chick, and she was walking around etcetera. He couldn’t see her face but her bod is rather like the typical skinny Chinese types – thin waist, kinda flat around the boobage and no butt. Rather like the anti-Me. Anyway, face aside; the two fellas thought she was hot – till they saw her face. After that it was game over man.



Anyway, the point is that the first guy – he shall be henceforth known as “the guy”, the other guy is negligible for the rest of this recollection – said “Hey, hot chick.” This is the guy who, not to say I fancy, but the guy who I get along with and am (or was) at the moment trying to figure out if there is a chance or not for anything. After today, I say not. And it bums me out for a couple of reasons.

I say not, because:
1. He likes the “Chinese chick” types. And guys generally have types they like and they tend to stick to them. I guess. I’m not to sure on this point.
2. I do not fall into the category of the “Chinese chick”. It doesn’t bother me that I’m not; it bothers me that guys have types they stick to. It makes the playing field easier to narrow down for them, but makes it oh so irritating for people like me. people like me being people who may fancy other people but know there is one extra hurdle to cross and figure it’s not worth the effort.



And it bums me out because:
1. I know I have no chance. So now I have to find a new hobby, a new something-to-do-with-spare-lunchtime.
2. After watching too many chick flicks, you find yourself yearning for that one guy who will change the way he is or who will learn to appreciate different qualities (namely yours) in a girl. That never happens. Unless you’re different and exceptionally hot. But I have yet to observe case studies on this. So I’m going to take it as set that guys don’t change the types they like – ever.

* * *

All the above has made me cranky and rather apathetic.

At the moment I think my right leg has fallen asleep so I’ve resorted to wiggling my toes in intervals to make sure the leg still works. It’s a really weird sensation when you can feel an appendage fall asleep.



But you know what faithful blog? I feel a little better after jotting all this down. Still tired and sleepy and achy and possibly still cranky, but more light-hearted and a little relieved. At least I don’t have to complain about things to the same people and get the same response – tried that today too, and I know they’re only trying to justify what can’t be changed, but it’s frustrating and the tension builds up.

You are like a demister of emotions, blog. You can run blindly through a fog, or be guided through by a friend. Next to myself, I couldn’t ask for a better listener.

Hey look, a joke! I guess I’m feeling a lot better. Ok, don’t push it.

That growling aint me mad

I don’t know why, but I’m finding myself extremely hungry lately.



Even after I’ve gobbled down a plate of rise and assorted dishes. Either my stomach has been stretched so much that I don’t eat enough or I digest food too quickly. Better the latter than the former. I don’t think I have a big stomach cos I eat till I’m more or less full.

Interesting news tho. Apparently Venon has heard from some forgotten (and I have no doubt, anonymous) source that I have a boyfriend. Oh how I wish.

No, I don’t actually wish that hard.

But he did mention something that made my ears prick up. This was during Kitson’s class so I was rolling with the laptop and the headphones half on so I just heard a bit of what Venon was saying.

"mumble mumble pikat"



Say WHAT now?

I think he’s referring to that fella who’s talking to me on msn (more on him later), but the only time I’ve ever mentioned the “pikat” thing is on this blog. And as far as I know, no one from my class has got this blog add. That’s as far as I know.

I’ve only given this add out to Malcolm recently and he don’t know them. Hi Mal!

Freekazoid city.

So now my ears are pricked. Readers, you have been warned. I not so much mind that you read my blog, but more that you don’t mention the stuff I put here. It’s all dead and buried issues that are put to rest – typed as they come, so the emotions are raw. It takes a while for it to be ok to mention whether I’m embarrassed about it or just hurt – those are the two I don’t think I could deal with properly.



* * *

Anyway, back to Mr. Creepy. Pseudonyms will be used in the case of accidental creepazoid-identification.

Talked to the fella today. Man Utd lost, I know. Arsenal deserved to win, so kudos boys. We’re still at the top so no worries on this end. Other people think different but I say why fret over the past.

Yeah so the match had something to do with Mr. Creepy. He made a bet with me (and no, I did not accept) that if Arsenal won, he’d buy me a drink, and if Man Utd won, he’d stop using future-seeing powers. O-kay. You see where this is going.

I did not and do not want to let him buy me a drink be it milo ais or otherwise. It just doesn’t sit well with me – especially with all the hectic stuff I gotta deal with in uni. I so don’t want to have to juggle this guy’s feelings too.



I didn’t reply for a bit so I guess he was wise enough to sense I was less than pleased to take him up on his offer.

So I couldn’t take it anymore and I told him that asking people things was a bit weird and I don’t feel comfortable going for drinks with strangers. I didn’t want to tell him straight out that “I don’t know you that well and I don’t like you yadiyadiya.” because I have already said half of that, and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

RESULTS:
He did not get the hint that I consider him a stranger. Look at the above paragraph. I have highlighted “Strangers” for you. You see? Course I couldn’t do that in Messenger but I take it he can read English.

Although he did apologise for being weird again. Apology accepted; but it will be revoked if you do it again.

I’ve talked this guy’s messaging habits over with Lea – albeit in a shorthand version and slightly one-sided. I’ve routinely ruled out “being friendly” because he’s creeping me out. Lea knows better than to argue with my stubborn gut so she suggests being a liar and telling a few (white) lies to get me off his Cupid’s list.



Untruths to be propounded varied among the “I have a boyfriend now” to the “I hate boys because…”

The problem of option 1 is that I may have to produce said boyfriend for real or in chat form so that could possibly turn out awkward. I would like to keep this annoying invasion into my cyberspace to a minimum and god forbid he bug my friends too. I can just see him spreading like a fungus. Not a nice way to put it, but the guy seems a little deprived of friends.

Option 2 is easier I guess but I hate lying about stuff like that. If I hate something, I have to really hate it for real. I can’t really lie about emotions. It just doesn’t come out very real to me. I might be able to convince other people but I have to feel it first before I get the true effect. I wouldn’t be able to hold the stance for very long anyway. Lea was in this state of “I hate all boys” for a wee while – after a rather saddening traumatic experience, it’s understandable.

I still retain my faith in compatibility and one in six billion chances. Tho there’s a higher chance I end up a dusty old spinster virgin. And that, is really troubling.

The BIG FOUR go to WAR - EPL Style

Not much to mention today.

Updates on the Rash: it has localised the itching to behind my left ear. Strange place but at least my chin and face are ok now. The rough bits around the edge of me facial area is still rough but not itchy anymore. The bit behind my ear feels like the skin is flaking but it’s not – just really itchy.

A friend of mine is going thru some relationship issues and I’m more than happy to share some wise words of wisdom.

Stop rolling your eyes.

She asked me what she should do. I gave her standard advice – do what you feel is right, don’t compromise on you true beliefs, is the sacrifice worth it.

I keep feeling I should be paid for all this stuff I help people out with. Screw a psychology degree, mondo experience is waaaaay better. Well not my experience, other people’s. If it were all me, I’d be in a straight jacket.

Strange tho – after all I’ve seen and what I’ve experienced, I’m still not jaded by what people expect and what people want. The stories are all the same, just the names change. The situations alter with the times, and little spins make it seem more confusing, but there’s always one point. One ultimate singularity (to take so grandly from Stephen Hawking) where a decision could make or break the relationship. I suppose that’s usually when I get called up. I never butt in uninvited. Even when people call or whatnot to tell me stuff about their problems. Like I’ve mentioned before, most problems could be solved if people just listen to themselves. You have to know what you want first and foremost. It can get all confused but that’s what good friends are for, to help to filter out the wants from the want nots.

Only if they ask for advice then only you should give them some. Only then.

Well enough of that – it’s making me a little depressed.

ARSENAL V MANCHESTER UNITED
12.00am Kick-off (Malaysian time)

Man Utd are six (count em – SIX) points ahead of title-chasers Chelsea. If United win this tonight, they could well be NINE points clear.

Thank you LIVERPOOL! But only because you beat Chelsea.

* * *

I need to stop this nasty little habit of visualising me being with someone when they are clearly so not interested. And I don’t consciously want to be with them. Sigh. I think I have an issue. Some DEEP-seated issue. I just don’t know what it is. If someone can tell me, please help me so I can work on getting rid of it. It’s no good for my mental and emotional health I’m telling you.

Late night and totally unnecessary

Still itchy.

G*dd*nm m*therf*cker s*n of a b*tch b*llsh*t cr*pf*ck.

My earlobes are the worst…




I’m going to look back on that last line and laugh one day….

And I need to cut my nails too. I’ve got client counselling on Thursday and I don’t wanna take the guy’s skin off when I shake his hand.

Life has been moderate to me so far. So long as the LMS assignment stuff comes in on time (by Wednesday) so I can put it all together and bind it and everything. Shouldn’t be too tough.




Dada’s watching Star Wars – one of the oldies I think. From the sounds of the old-school trumpets and the “zang” of the space fighter things. I am tempted to go kick him off so I can watch Las Vegas, but I’m sleepy.

Class tomorrow has been relocated to god-knows-where. Actually, I do know where but its so damn inconvenient. And all because of bloody A-level exams. Stupid building is infested with them. Like termites. They keep multiplying every year! Not literally, of course. There weren’t that many of us way back when I was there. Wow. I sound so old.

Whatever. Age grants you the privilege of moaning about the youth.




Been getting the munchies lately and I think it might be cause of impending downward blood rush – if you get my drift. Been a tad bloated too. Bl**dy f*cking hormones. Why couldn’t they make us retain something more useful like knowledge, or do something more aesthetically pleasing with it, like accumulate into the boobage area? Well it sorta does, but not much.


I just thought of something.

Hormones are hor-MOANS

...

I'm a genius.
Plus, having rashes on the face does not help the situation any. I’m forced to pull back my hair so it doesn’t irritate my face. So now, my face is kinda puffed up and slightly red; itchy at the sides; really rough cos of the swelling; AND I have to pull back my hair so it looks like I have no sense of style what so ever.

Why didn’t the guy up there at least give me a face that looks good sans hair?!

Grumble grumble grumble…

Itchiness is a sign of the times

Tis the season for allergies. And everyone’s got them. I can list you the people around me who have suffered from, and are still suffering from, ALLERGIES.


And it really odd that everyone is suffering from the same symptoms too: rashes. Even I’ve go rashes - and I don’t have any allergies that I know of. Really really itchy. Well, not as itchy as it could be I guess.

So far, People Who ARE Itching:

ME

And I’m not even allergic to anything! This is so unfair!


Well, the last time I broke out in rashes that were as annoying as this, my legs looked like blobs of red swells of flesh. And that was after I upchucked on my jeans. I think that was a reaction to the acid or something.

It’s on the sides of my face so my hair keeps touching it even when I tie it up and it’s half driving me Crazy.

GOH YAU JUN

This poor fella has got rashes all over his body. He’s resorted to wearing long sleeves to class and I really feel bad for him.


He’s taking it rather well tho. Not a peep of complaint from him. Kudos to you, man. He has no idea why he’s got them and he doesn’t want to take any allergy tests. He’s been thru a lot tho, first the busted knee, now this. Someone give this guy a break (not literally).

People Who WERE Itching

ADRIAN TAN

But not anymore, thanks to ZYRTEC.


Apparently it came on all of a sudden and now he’s allergic to prawns or something. He’s been pitching this allergy drug to all of us itchy people.

MY MUM

According to her, it’s because of stress. She couldn’t stand the itching so she went to the doc and they gave her calamine with meds in it.

She didn’t use it all the time and she complained like mad. She even went for a facial, the silly cow.

* * *

And for memory sake, no I don’t like him. It’s just fun to give and receive attention. I give the verbal finger to anyone who thinks otherwise, and I think they know who they are. But your forgiven for thinking that – I’m pretty convincing when bored.

Too. Much. Text.

The silly earthquake in Taiwan has played havoc with net lines in this area of ze world so I'm finding it increasingly frustrating uploading pictures.

Is it because of Imageshack or is it the picture I'm trying to upload? It's for the background and it like 900 pixels across. I've uploaded a similar size picture recently but it's giving me hell with this one.

Anyway, sorry about this hopefully temporary setback.

Periods minus the pain equals boring posts. Sorry.

You may be wondering where the painful period posts have gone (I love alliteration, don’t you?). Well it seems that due to stabilizing hormones and all that, I’m all fine and pain-free.

So the rants and raves about stabbing pains may halt for a while. Tho, now that I’ve said I don’t suffer from it anymore, I’ll probably hit me double this month.

That’s justice for you. I guess my destiny is to be a blogging ball of fury and rage. So be it. I think I write more interesting stuff when I’m in pain anyway – both the physical and mental.

And I ain’t sadistic before you bombard me with labels of sadism and whatnot.

* * *

Anyway

On other fronts, the peaceful feeling has passed somewhat and I’m rather back in apathy mode. Sort of half-half.

Got a lot on my plate to do but good ol’ blogger is pleasantly distracting me. Pleasantly in a sense that this is mindless babble which does nothing whatsoever to improve my mental skills.

Actually, this may be helping my touch typing.

I refuse to log in to MSN messenger for fear of:

Distractions

Getting messaged by that guy again

I went to the lounge to watch a bit of old Top Gear on ntv7 and whilst I was watching Jeremy Clarkson rev his way up a Scottish mountain, the fella IM-ed me. Good thing I was technically disconnected so I didn’t bother to reply.


I’m not too sure of what to do at this point. I’ve told him that: he’s weird, he’s strange and that he’s creepy. And still he continues to do that same thing.

Oh, plus, he’s asked me to tell him when he annoys me. Nice gesture but any person with an embedded moral conscience wouldn’t do that. Unless you know then like really well. I have never even met this guy. I don’t want to, but that’s beside the point.

Oh and before I continue on this rather stressful subject (I’m feeling all “eugh” already), let me just say that I refuse to get to know any person who I just meet on the internet. Well, if they know me thru a friend or something, then fine. If they are polite and not stupid creepy, then fine. Case in point: I added this guy on friendster like ages ago. He sent me a message and asked me to add him to my MSN and gave me his email add. No danger there so ok. Turned out to be a nice fella who I sometimes chat with online. He wasn’t forward, just friendly chat and we talked about random little things, and no underlying connotations to make it uncomfortable. We were and still are just friends.

Ladies and gentlemen, THAT’S how you do it. THAT’S how you get to know someone over the internet. NOT by saying hello, and after 5 lines of chat, ask them if they have a boyfriend. THAT is the fastest way to be labelled a CREEP.

And to say the least, yes I do enjoy attention, but not this kind. This kind of attention I can live without.

Again with the questions.

It’s not like I KNOW he fancies me. Because I’m no mind reader so he could just be a really friendly guy. Andi’m fine with that. It’s just that… there’s a freaky sort of vibe – that permeates the air around my torso and it feels creepy, you know?

STOP:
Asking when my birthday is
Asking what annoys me
Telling me I’m cool / great / strong / smart
Going “ooo”
Saying “ler”
Typing in manglish – it’s a spoken language, not a written one
Asking when I cry – it’s not being sensitive, its irritating

Ok, I’m giving him a chance. I’m going to stop treating him like creepy stalker boy and start treating him like friendly manglish boy. Still annoying, just not as creepy. See how this turns out. And don’t go around thinking I’m leading him on, because I’m not. If I wanted to lead him on, he’d follow me off a cliff. HAH. This is me friendly: Hi. Yeap. No. whatever dude.

I’ve had problems with guys like this before – so very naive and they don’t get the difference between friendly and flirty.

Oh, and I’m not laughing with him either. No “haha”s from this quarter. Er… lots of “haha”s from the other end tho. I’m not that funny dude.

Anyway, I find that guys from (sorry to generalise, but it can’t be helped) local schools, I think especially the Chinese ed schools, are so sheltered from outgoing females – like myself. Not to say that Chinese ed girl students are introverted, but the tendency is that they are and it’s no fault of their own, it’s the education system so I, in the end, blame the Chinese education system for all of my problems in this area. Stop repressing the pre-pubesant and let them live and grow so that when they go out and meet other types of people, they don’t irritate the hell out of them. Please?

I’m assuming this one is Chinese ed because: of the way he types, his atrocious grammar, his email is his Chinese name, and he’s Chinese (yeah I know other races go to Chinese schools too) and… I think it’s mainly the grammar that’s tipped me off. But I could be wrong.

ADDITIONAL STOP:
Asking if guys PIKAT me! – pikat apparently means “woo”

Ok, this is borderline making me feel queasy. And not in the lovesick way.

How the hell am I supposed to fend this guy off? He’s a nice guy and polite and all – but I think he’s getting all the wrong signals. Or more likely, he doesn’t get the hint.

Don’t fricking ask me about my lovelife you tard! And don’t ask me to put it into statistics either. If you make me roll my eyes up any more its going to go roll in and out of my ear.

Hmm, maybe he just wants to learn about girls in general. And I happen to be the unfortunate guinea pig he picked. I hope that’s what it all is. Kind of a strange topic of conversation for like the second time we talk.

Well fine, if that’s what he’s looking for - general girl knowledge, then that’s all I’ll give him. No more specifics from me.

Oh great, now he’s using a hypothetical. And another girl in his class. I’m tempted to give him the benefit of the doubt. It’s going to end up biting him in the ass in the end anyway.

You're not creepy, just...

Hmm I checked and maybe I don’t have any posts pending that have nothing to do with me. Sorry y’all for false hopes.

Hmm I’m come a far bit since this blog was up and staggering in 2005. Maybe I’ll post my CV up or something. Think it might get me hired one day? Perhaps.

Nothing major happening today. No class so I lazed around at home in front of the tv in my pyjamas and my notebook. I guess I’m supposed to do some work but to be honest I did a smidgen. Well I thought about it. It counts I guess the whole scheme of things… ok, no it doesn’t but whatever.

Hmm, got some thoughts on my mind so pardon me for getting this off my chest.

Have you ever talked to a guy (online or in person or on the phone) and got the distinct impression that he likes you? Yeah, I know I’m flipping the switch on things but nvm. Well, it’s creepy. It’s not so creepy if you don’t know, but if he straight out says things or asks questions that are just a littttle too personal, then that’s weird.

Ok, so here’s the List of Creepy Things Guys Say When (You Kinda Know That) They Are Interested In You

Oh, I should define what kind of guy you have to be before it relates to “you”, per se.
Guys who become creepy are: those we are not attracted to, those who we do not wish to talk to, those who we do not consider a "friend", those who we have no prior knowledge of, those who we show no interest in getting to know and those who come off as creepy by way of first impression.




#1 “Do you have a boyfriend?” or mention anything boyfriend-related

Ok, so it many not be all that creepy but if the guy asks you more than once it makes hair stand on end.

Especially if he asks if you’re talking to said boyfriend.

Girls, you know why he says it. He wants to hear those magical words: “No, I don’t have a boyfriend.” Which translates directly into boy-speak as: “I’m single and available and obviously attracted to you so by all means please flirt with me.”

Boys, don’t fall into the ego trap. Not everything is about you. We do not sit by our phones on at our computers solely in the hope of talking to you. Unless we happen to like you then yes, we might. But don’t assume this. It’s annoying. And creepy.



#2 Asks all about your favourite type of movie

Yeah. Ok. We get it. So you don’t get it wrong when you ask us out. Good for you. A for effort. But you’re getting nowhere pal. Beating around the bush isn’t helpful. Actually it’s downright irritating. We already know. We know. We’re women, not dolls. We have a brain and we can figure it out.

Boys, if you’re gonna ask, ask. Don’t wear a path around the forsaken bush and try and “figure us out”. The answer’s still going to be no anyway.

#3 Keep saying you are “cool” or “great” or “beautiful” or “pretty”

We know we are. And you’re not the first one to say it.

I’ve deliberately left out “cute” because that could go either way. But if used in conjunction with the other ones, then take it as meaning he digs you. Ew.

Boys, don’t overdo it with the compliments. If she doesn’t reciprocate, then you have no hope, I’m sorry. You can work it all you like but overkill really will kill your chances.



#4 Tries to entertain you and keep you talking to him

What I got were jokes. Lots of them. Copied and pasted into the chat window. Thoughtful, but it gets old.

Boys, the effort is appreciated. But if there’s no response that’s more than a polite “haha”, then you really have to pack it up and excuse yourself. Don’t make her dislike you any further by forcing her to pay attention to you.

* * *

The reason that it’s so annoying is that you know that they have next to no chance in hooking up with you. He doesn’t get it. And no matter how hard you try to send the right signals (i.e. back off, you’re creepy, I’m not interested), they always come back for a second, third, fourth ad infinitum shot. They will never go right out and say it, so you can’t tell them to back off in case you’re wrong. Sucks to be you.

I’m talking to one online now. It’s late. He’s done all the above things. The fact that he has yet to tell me how he got my email is fking blowing my mind with irritation. It’s the least bit of courtesy you could extend to a friendly female who doesn’t recall who the hell you are. And I told him this. Repeatedly. I don’t ask for fun.

I should post tips for guys: Signs that a girl doesn’t like you in that way. Coming soon!

On second thought, let's try to be rational here.

I know that the last few entries have been stricken with outpourings of the heart and it sickens me as much as it probably annoys you. I do indeedy do have several non-emotional entries pending, but we’ll see if I have the time and motivation to finish them. Some pretty good Pulitzer Prize winning stuff I reckon.

Anyway, after watching Someone Like You (Yay Ashley Judd etc etc), I’m taking a new refreshed look at my current single situation. I would love it for it to be his fault. I’m not heartbroken! But a mild version. If total heartbreak was akin to a heart attack, then this is more of an aneurism.

I truly do hope it happens to me again. The good bits, not the bad bits. The bad bits take their toll, but it just takes one little good bit to wash it all away. Spoken from experience.

I don’t know why, but it’s always when you don’t try or don’t look that it comes your way. But then if you try not to try, its works out in reverse and you still don’t get anywhere. I guess the lesson is just to relax. Let the good times roll and the good times will roll to you.

If there’s anything that Ashley Judd has taught me, it’s that second chances do exist. Second and third and fourth chances at finding that something special and it’s not the end of the world if your chance doesn’t work out. As long as you have supportive (albeit crazy) friends to help you thru it, you’ll get by, with nary a scratch – maybe a few, but its all part of growing up.

I don’t know how I’m going to find that person. That “special someone”. I’m sure that there is one person in the world for everyone. There are also people who will lead you to them, either by guiding you or dividing you. Songs, to put into effect: Bless the Broken Road by the Rascal Flatts. I love that song, because it talks about all the past messes that you’ve gotten into before finding that person. It’s inspirational, tho a little bit painful to hear if you’ve just been chucked.

I think I was fine – like totally fine – before that little reminder of him cropped up. Kinda like putting a thick bandage on a wound. No wait. More like the wound’s healed (it was only a little scratch) and then he made it itchy and I scratched. And out pops the blood. Temporary setback.

I will never give up hope on finding “the one”. I just have to remind myself to not jump the gun. But what if he wants to jump the gun? Speaking as a sane and rational (ok, maybe a little biased?) person; I suggest, go slow. The feeling is great when they feel so strongly about you, but if you’re really not ready, then hold back. Never feel like you should follow their tempo.

But the more OK you are, the faster you’re ready to jump and the more heartbroken and torn you are, the more cautious you’re gonna be.

Advice for future self: it exists. It truly does. Finding it is the ultimate question. It’s got nothing to do with pheromones and casual you-know-what is just as good a path as diving nead down into work. Don’t give up on a good thing if there is the remotest chance of it going somewhere. Hope is not the enemy, but don’t read into it any more than it is.

I’m still at peace tho.

A song springs to mind: Illegal by Shakira. Listen and learn. I totally agree with her. Women are emotional creatures. It’s how we were programmed. Live with it fellas.

This ain't right.

This isn’t right. I should be over this. I swear. Get out of my heart.

It was fine when you weren’t around. YOU know who You are. Tho I didn’t give you this blog address I’ll consider this an open letter to you. I didn’t like you that much. Well I tried not to. But you shouldn’t be lingering around.

I don’t like the way this feels. I need to write it out. It’s like:… someone is squeezing my heart. I can barely breathe. It’s not exhilaration. I’m trying to quash it with annoyance. Yeah, refer to previous graphs regarding feelings in and out and you’ll see what I mean.

I guess you can’t not like someone but I just wish you could just control how much. I really didn’t want to like you like this. I’m not stalkering or whatever.

The initial shock of seeing you online (yeap, that’s the trigger. Don’t call me lame, trigger-finger) makes me want to talk to you and not talkt o you at the same time. What the hell is wrong with me?

Babble babble. There is no structure in this post. I’m going to regret writing this so messily tomorrow. Its times like these I need to watch my break-up movies, i.e. Someone Like You, and Under The Tuscan Sun. Good times all round.

I want to know where you’re at. Are you over me? You probably obviously are. I would still like to know. Was there anything to be over in the first place? Am I just overreacting? No and a yes to be in the worst-case scenario.

Hah. Like I’m worth hanging on to. Woah. Major self-esteem crisis here. I really really don’t want to fall down that hole again. There aren’t enough cute guys to flirt with in uni to bounce back too. Not to rebound to, but flirting is therapeutic. Kinda makes you feel… worthy of attention. Hah.

I need that kind of attention. Tyng! Where is my kindred spirit when I need her?

…

(Are mobile phones so redundant nowadays? Pick up woman!)

Aaanyway, sigh. Feel so much better. I guess I need to just distract myself or something and push that part of me aside till it get so squashed and small it doesn’t matter anymore.

Here’s to hoping it works…

Reminder to self

These past few posts have been awfully personal and the reason being is that some people have appeared in my life - old and new ones - and while faced with new situations, I don't really tend to handle things very well.

You live and you learn.

So reminder to self: Don't get caught up. It's nice to think about it, but you really don't have a good control on things so just stop that right now. Leave the imagining to Hollywood.

And also, on a rather depressing tone: hope leads to disappointment. You know the rest.

Who was it that said "anger is only love frustrated"? Well same applies to hope, cept less intense.

Happy New Year self :)

NOT a retraction

Now that the two days of absolute freedom are up, I regret not actually doing anything productive in that time. Not to say that lounging around and staying up late weren’t fun but me complaining of being bored could have resulted in me actually doing work or collecting the clothes or something at least remotely useful.

Now that father is home, I miss the sound of silence and the totally solitude that come with it. It could have been immensely lonely at times but some peace is nice once in a while.

I think having nothing to do is affecting me in ways I don’t understand. Well I understand it to the extent that I know that I don’t like it and that I need a hobby.
I hate having nothing to do. I have motivational problems – really – but if there’s a good idea there out there somewhere, I have yet to find it.

This’ll be short. The last post was real. Not a cry for help, per se, but a call out of desperation. Desperate to do something.

I have issues. Only one person knows most of them. Only one person knows all of them.

A lonely Saturday

Dear blog,

I have never been in love. So this is not the feeling of a heart being ripped out. This is the feeling of having your trust thrown away.

I tend to trust people unconditionally. Which in itself is a beautiful and foolish thing. I don’t give my trust just freely. I trust people not to screw me over in general but if in times they do, it shouldn’t matter because of human nature, you put yourself first and if that means lying to a person, then so be it. I have only given my trust to a few people in my entire lifetime. And by this is mean full trust. Not the “I trust that you will remember to water my plants” kind of trust but the kind of trust as in, “I trust you to come through for me in times of crisis” kind of trust. The type reserved for parents, best friends and boyfriends.

Boyfriends are where the problem starts. I don’t have a great track record if you can even call it that. The first one, took my trust, looked at it, and decided he could do better. The “second one”, if there ever was one in the first place, saw the trust I gave him and didn’t even recognise it. It’s not like I tried to disguise it as something else, but what should he know. He’s never seen real trust before.

Of the two times I’ve tried, I’ve been crush, hurt and humiliated. It doesn’t hurt me as much to be dumped or ignored, but it really hurts like a stab in the heart to feel stupid and know I should have known better. I’m the one who’s supposed to know when to play it out and when to get serious. I’m the one who should have protected the trust till it was ready to be given away.

And of all this, I have gotten nothing if not smarter. I now know that out of quiet desperation there is one thing that should always remain – the quiet. For no reason should one ever give in too early. Never reveal what isn’t yours in the first place. Stay in your little bottle down below and even though your ready to tell the world what you feel, it’s always too early. Always another day to wait. And in that sense, you’re safe. That’s how you protect the trust.

But don’t get me wrong. I truly believe in love and all that romantic comedy crap. I’m sure it exists. My parents are living proof. But how it comes about is another matter to be left alone by Hollywood. I have seen too many great romantic comedies and I think they have screwed my up. I am one of those people who love to get that warm fuzzy feeling but it’ll never happen to me. For one reason or another.

And I don’t blame the boys for making me feel like I feel. I feel like I feel because I know I did wrong. I blame myself for believing that what I felt was real instead of premature. I jumped the gun before they ever did and I got punished for it. The first time I was wrong I blamed him. It felt better in the beginning to do that so I did it. And people believed in it so fine. But I’ve always blamed myself for never being good enough to keep him. Even if he was evil in the first place (according to sources). The second. Well. He was decent enough and was rated “nice but polite” by the same sources. No one ever said blur and / or ignorant. He never actually did anything. I have yet to be “dumped” by him. But I might as well be. To describe the feeling, imagine yourself falling down a hole. A really big hole. You can’t touch the sides but you’re just falling, falling. And you expect to hit the bottom aaaany time now. But you don’t and just keep falling and falling with no hope of saving yourself or ending it quick. That’s how it is.

But enough about how shit I am. I’ve resolved (and this is not a New Years thing) to be my own self. Sounds stupid but hey. I’m not gonna rely on anyone, I’m not gonna need anyone. I’m just going to be the old old self-confident me. I think I know where the decline started. And I blame secondary school for it.

I have a theory about self confidence and self esteem. There are times when people can be labelled arrogant or shy but that all depends on how people perceive them. Graphical example:


It’s a really easy graph to understand. There are two factors. First is self-confidence. How you perceive yourself and how comfortable you are with who you are and what you do. Second is how others see you. How others feel where you fit in the social hierarchy or ladder or group. This is very important because your place is determined by the rest. This is only important if you let it get to you. The line of social acceptability is where your self-confidence and outside perception meet. For example, if you look and act like a shy, timid person, and you feel shy AND other people think you are shy, then you’re somewhere at point A and you’re fine. Take point B: if you’re hot and pretty and you’ve got enough confidence to choke a mule then you’re good to go too. People associate how good you feel about yourself with how good you let them make you feel. Does that make sense to you?

Well anyway, way back when, I was labelled arrogant (in a private meeting, called by my “peers”) for being snobbish and proud. And at the time I didn’t like what they said. I was thinking that why shouldn’t I be proud of what I do. But I’ve sat through enough of these confrontations to know that talking back is useless and they won’t let you out till you agree solemnly. So I agreed. But later on, their words began to affect me. I became less social. I blended into the back ground to make way for those who other people wanted to see more.

Needless to say I don’t enjoy recalling all this but I think it’s important for anyone who reads this blog, myself included to realise how self-conscious I have become. I hate the fact that I have to dress to please people. I like the way I dress but I always keep the people I know in mind. Ok, I don’t want to blame those 7 or 8 high school people for “intervening” before I committed social suicide, but it makes me think. High school never really ends does it? I liked high school for the way it just sped by for me. I was always the observer and never the observed. I crave limelight and attention and that’s what’s killing me here and now. I know I can be better and I know I could do better but what’s stopping me? I have no clue.

At times I think I might need a therapist or someone but I give pretty good advice myself so I just try and pretend as if I were my own therapist. It comes from being a very self sufficient only child that talking to yourself is an accepted form of therapy. I’m not crazy, just extremely lonely. My best friend is and was around but I’d rather not burden other people with the trivialities of my own problems, unless dire intervention is required then I will call for help of whatever. Doesn’t happen often, but could if need be.

Also, my parents are not home for 3 days. That’s what triggered this bout of loneliness. Mum’s in Singapore. Dad’s in Penang. Best friend is in Bali with other friends. And Uni friends… well, not so close to them as to share intimate secrets – more of sharing of cake and other festive edibles. College friends are far and wide so that only leaves you dear blog. My online writing tablet. I don’t mind you sharing this with the whole world even if half of them think I’m crazy. Because I hope the other half will understand – and possibly prescribe me anti-depressants or something.

I actually think there is something wrong with me because I can be a happy camper. Around friends. But alone, I can seriously crash into lethargy. I neeeeed social contact and when that’s not afforded to me, I don’t know what to do. I was thinking about this till I feel asleep last night and to go to sleep thinking of this, is not pleasant.

I woke up this morning and I thought to myself, if I cut my wrists right now, no one would find out I’m gone for at least 2 days. A morbid thought but one I’m inclined to share with you. Well, I woke up looking at the pulsating vein in my right arm so the thought just came up. I do not relish the thought of suicide. I do not wish to take my own life. But for the lack of anything else better to do…. Just kidding. I would never go through with it. I wouldn’t even start. I love life too much. But like I said earlier. Quiet desperation. I don’t know how much longer I can keep it a secret. I don’t want to be like those other kids hopped up on pills to make themselves feel worthy. I don’t want to join the endless horde that need help to feel good about themselves. I just want to feel better about myself and I think it’ll all go away.

But enough talk on that. It’s a sad enough topic and it’ll run through my head all day anyway.

I don’t know how to end this post. I won’t say I’ve bared all because a girl’s gotta have some secrets. I needed to get this out and record this. I hope I don’t sound emo because this is real. And loneliness is real and. Yeah, I sound emo. I’m sorry. Well whatever, you choose to read this far. But the problem with post like these, is I may expect a comment. And it bums me out that people don’t leave them. So comments are a no go. No hope, no disappointment. I retract my trust; you guys haven’t earned it yet.