Is It Me Or Are Things Getting Better In My Life?

I haven't been this excited for a long time! The triple combo of N.E.R.D, Mercury Rev and Coldplay leaves me running around like a headless chicken. Just a super brief history of how I got into each band:

1. N.E.R.D.

Seven years ago, I walked into the Dance/RNB room at HMV on the third floor and heard this really weird-sounding band (at the time) blasting on the speakers. I remember asking this Japanese guy at the counter who the band was, and he handed me a CD called 'In Search Of...' by this band I had never even heard of. You must understand that this was during the height of my musical snobbery where I refused to listen to any band that didn't have four pasty British guys in it.

For some reason, I felt compelled to buy the last copy and went home and listened to the whole thing over and over. And they really fascinated me. Were they called N.E.R.D. or The Neptunes? Were they hip-hop? Or alt-funk? I was too anxious to classify them into a genre, not understanding at the time that they were so musically forward that they were reinventing genres as they went.

2. Mercury Rev

In 1998, I was still buying copies of NME and Melody Maker every week, and Select every month. Ah, the memories of blowing my money away on music snobbery. Anyway, I remember that every single critic was gushing about this album called 'Deserter's Songs' by an American band called Mercury Rev.

I didn't pick up the album that year, but a few years later, there was a CD mixer on one of the NMEs and the song 'Tonite It Shows' was on it. Listening to the wistful clarinet opening, I felt like I was in some 40s gangster movie. I only picked up the album even later, and I could have kicked myself for not getting into them earlier. Still, better late than never.

3. Coldplay

Ah, Coldplay. I shall spare all the gory, slobbery details, but I'll always have Jayine to thank for my fleeting moments with Chris Martin. I've gone from worshipping them blindly to disliking them for selling out to genuinely admiring their latest album. I may not be a super diehard fan, but now that I think about it, they've influenced quite a big part of my life and I'm a sentimental old fool so I'll always have a soft spot for them. (Here's hoping they don't sell out again!)

Now Hang Me Up To Dry (You Wrung Me Out Too, Too, Too Many Times)

These days, I don't feel like talking. I don't feel like making conversation, I don't feel like empty small talk, or catch-up talk, or even everyday stuff in general. The effort of getting words out just seems overwhelming and I just start getting anxious and worried. I have no idea why it's like that. I know that I have 'off' days sometimes where I'm anti-social but these have been stretching out to a few weeks.

I only don't feel this way around a certain group of people, usually the ones who have known me forever and know that when I get like this, the only solution is to roll their eyes and leave me be for a while so I can wallow in emo for a while and then be okay again. But it's irritating that I don't have time to be around these people because of work or school.

My colleagues are pretty alright to talk to, because I can always divert the topics to work and THAT is a neverending source of discourse. But sometimes, some of them want to talk to me about other stuff and I find myself wanting to retreat. It's nothing personal, it's just that I feel like I need to step back and start observing people again.

I guess the best way to describe what I'm feeling now is that I feel like a very, very full jug that's about to spill and I need to pour some of the water out before I'm ready to be around people again. But I don't ever get opportunities to "pour some water out" because I seem to always be surrounded by people. Even at home, I'm constantly surrounded by my mum and brother who want to talk, talk talk.

I know I'm going to regret saying this one day when I'm old and lonely and living in a flat with 49 cats and I have no one, and that I really should be grateful that there are so many seriously fantastic people in my life. It sounds trite but I really do love them. I love my wacky, weird friends, I love my oddball family, I love my Finer Things Club, I love Zarina who has stood by me for 15 years, I love my crazy colleagues who can really brighten up a dull work day anytime.

But for now, I just need some quiet. And a little time to finish the evergrowing list of books to read, movies to watch and music to listen to. As the immortal saying by Cow and Chicken goes..."Is it a criimmmeeee?"

Too Young To Reason, Too Grown Up To Dream

I've been looking forward to my bonus for a ridiculously long time, but it looks like more than half of it will be eaten away by my school fees. This is so unbelievably frustrating but I really don't have a choice, I guess.

I'm really hellbent on using the rest of the money to pay down debts, but it's still sad because I thought I could get myself something decent, like an iPhone or a mp3 player, after being so tight for the whole of this year. But that's one part of being a so-called adult, I guess, where you have to delay instant gratification and take care of the "real" issues first.

Shit. I just remembered that I may or may not have paid my income taxes. Being an adult blows chunks.

Whatever.

At the moment, I'm sick and tired of constantly blowing it. I'm sick and tired of sabotaging myself. I just want to go to bed for a week.

Whoever the hell said, "Go live your dreams," is a stupid dumbass.

Kthanksbye.

Everybody Knows That You're Insane

Don't even think for a minute that I've been obsessing over you and stalking you via Myspace or whatever. If your self-importance is that puffed up, then you're an even bigger jackass than I thought.

I've definitely moved on and done so many new things in my life to be proud of, and met lots of amazing new people who are now friends. So you were just a friend, not even a good one, and the idea that I even think about you when I've got so much else on my plate is laughable.

You're the pathetic one. You're the one making jam for a living and the only way you can ever get a girlfriend is picking on poor vulnerable women online. I was tempted to tell your current girlfriend about your pathetic self-pitying tactics to get women but I thought you two looked happy, so I thought I should leave all alone and continue moving on with my life and ignore whatever I found out about you being a bastard.

You know what? You are a fucking pathetic bastard. That's the reason your wife and all your other stupid girlfriends left you. Because your main act to get women is to appear all "woe is me" and act as though women have always screwed you over. Guess what, buddy? The problem is YOU. You're a fucktard. And I genuinely feel sorry for you because any woman stupid enough to be with you actually has to support your ridiculous jam-making endeavours and all the time you waste playing fantasy football.

Now that I think about it, you really deserve a huge amount of pity. And scorn. Seriously, good luck wading through life with such a ridiculous bag of tricks. I just pity your poor new girlfriend who's probably going to end up supporting you. That's how worthless you are.

Losing My Religion

I realized as I lay down to sleep
We haven't spoke in weeks
So many things that I'd like to know
Come have a talk with me
I need a sign, something I can see
Why all the mystery?
I try not to fall for make believe
But what is reality?

Where do we go?
What do we know?
Life has to have a meaning
Show me the light
Show me the way
Show that you're listening.

Guess it's funny how I say thanks to you
For all you've given me
Sometimes the price of what you gave to me
I can't stop questioning
O God of love, peace, and mercy
Why so much suffering?
I pray for the world, it gets worse to me
Wonder if you're listening.

- John Legend

And I Can't Stop Messing My Mind Up, Or Wasting My Time

We're supposed to be able to do anything we want. For the truly optimistic, they always ring up that damn Adidas phrase, "Impossible is nothing!" For the truly pessimistic, it's usually, "Sigh, trying to survive until the end of the day/week/month/year. Fuck it, lah."

I wonder why we never really realise our do-anything potential until something disastrous happens to take away that potential. Falling sick, for example (and I'm not talking flu here, I mean big stuff like cancer or diabetes) or becoming diabled...only then we'd be all, "Why didn't I do all that stuff when I had the chance?"

It's interesting, because we have that "chance" like RIGHT NOW, and I don't find myself (or many people I know) actualising it. In fact, I spend quite a huge chunk of the day wishing that I were somewhere else, or doing something else, or daydream about stuff like getting my driver's licence. There's just a whole lot of wishin' and not an awful lot of doin', and to my disgust, I spend a lot of time whining about this!

What do I do when I get home from work? Surf the net and watch stupid TV reruns. It's supposed to "destress" me, but I just end up more frustrated when the next working day rolls around.

Can anyone spell 'vicious cycle'?

A Class Act

Everyone's hyper-excited that Obama has won the election. Even though stocks have gone down, it's probably a temporary dive. Still, despite the elation and the feeling that things are finally going to be different, it's hard to deny that McCain's concession speech was a class act.

I read some criticism online that McCain was trying to marginalise Obama's victory because he mentioned race in his speech, talking about how proud the African-Americans must feel. I mean, come on, is it a crime for McCain to say that? It IS true, the blacks must be feeling damn proud that at last the racial barrier is broken in the highest possible office. I'm sure we'd be feeling something too if an Asian-American won a significant election in the US.

I just thought it was an excellent and moving speech. If McCain had campaigned like this, he would have won a lot more support from the undecided voters and moderates, instead of appealing to the gun-toting yeehaws from the Southern states.

And What You Thought You Lost Was Just Mislaid

I cannot FUCKING believe this.

After so long, I finally know the truth. In hindsight, I shouldn't really be surprised. And as Elnie says, I should be kind of glad that I wasn't stuck holding the prize mule in the end. But the feeling of being played and being lied to still pisses me off.

But, to tell you the truth, all along, I thought I was the one who fucked things up. But now, it feels SO much better to know that it really wasn't me, it was him!

Important lessons I learned:

1) When my instincts are screaming the place down that something is "wrong", it ALWAYS is.
2) Don't be so blinded whenever a guy says nice things to you.
3) A white lie is a white lie, but it is still a LIE.

If You Don't Eat Yourself, No Doubt The Pain Will, Instead

After spending an agonizing day at my cousin's wedding (and anticipating another full day affair coming up in November), I have come to the following conclusion.

I'm not normal.

Then of course, it begs the following question: what is normal anyway? And is anybody truly normal in the first place?

Please tell me what you think.

Someone's Always Talking When I'm Trying To Make Some Sense

TIOMAN!

I seriously, seriously cannot wait to go to Tioman. In about 30 hours. Sponsored by my extremely superrific, generous, marvellicious friends. Accompanied by some of those said friends as well. Clear blue waters and white, sandy beaches with hopefully not too many white, sandy ang mohs (although I can sense Rashid going, "WEI!" disagreeably at that.)

I've had horrible birthdays for the past few years so I'm really hoping that this year makes up for the rest of it. My colleague warned me that there isn't much to do on the main island itself, either than a KTV shack and a flyblown restaurant, but I'm not really going there for that stuff, I'm more interested in snorkeling and reading fat paperbacks by the beach and just being a lazy bum after having worked consecutively for the past week.

I hope that things go well. Crossing my fingers and expecting the worst, but I'm very bad at that because I'm an introverted die-hard optimist.

I know I should stop re-reading 'She's Come Undone' by Wally Lamb because everytime I pick it up, I start bawling ever few chapters. I guess some of the story hits a little too close to home. But it's not healthy to bawl this much, right?

Work is work. I'm tired and I'm hopeless but I'm hanging on, because I have to. Thank God the people there make it a little easier.

I'm missing my Finer Things club! Come to my house for Raya, will you? But it may have to be a weekday night, if you guys are alright...(or even towards the end of the month?)

Under The Iron Sea

*dusts Multiply blog* I'm still here! I'm still here. I haven't died and stunk up the place yet. There's actually been nothing much to update, because I've either been working or sleeping (or both, heh.)

Again it's the slow, monthly crawl towards payday. Another 5 more days of watching every penny like a hawk, bargaining with the auntie at the sugar cane juice stall and attempting to cook Thai green curry so I have some food to bring to work.

I have always, always promised myself NOT to make fun of people who speak poor English, because I always reverse the situation and think that they'd be laughing at me if I were attempting to speak Malay/Chinese/Tagalog/Flemish. Which they have, by the way. I think my colleagues get a kick out of the fact that I scored F9 for my Malay during the 'O' Levels. So happening, right? Sigh.

But today, I was introduced to a colleague's friend, and the girl was talking very loudly and pretending to tease my colleague about shoplifting. "You better be careful! Or the SECURE will come and get you!" Then she burst into bright, shrieky peals of laughter. I was like, no sniggering Islinda! So as a result, I ended up looking rather constipated. I think I confused her overall. She sure confused me. I guess she was trying to say the word 'security' instead of 'secure'.

I'm also shocked at my extreme level of suakuness. I had NO idea that 3 people were murdered in a flat not too far from my place! I only found out about this today when I saw the killer being arrested on the front page of the newspaper. My first thought was, "What killer, ah?" My second thought was, "Yishun?!" and my last thought was, "This happened on Friday?! How come I don't know?"

I think I live inside my own little world too much.

Am listening to way too much Keane. Anyone else have any good recommendations? (PS: This does not apply to you if you think 'I Don't Want To Miss A Thing' by Aerosmith is the best song in the world.)

(PPS: Yes, I know this is musical snobbery, but I don't care. I just don't trust people who like that song.)

So when you're finished with this dream, delete, begin to rewrite me

Been doing a lot of thinking over the past few days, and most of it is just stuff that I've been constantly rehashing in my head. But one of the most important things - which, unfortunately, has failed to sink in - is this: before we judge others, we have to take a hard look at ourselves. And quit whining.

I always wonder why people are so quick to get pissed off with another person's actions, and complain that they wouldn't have done such a thing themselves. One example I've been mulling over recently is hearing one colleague complain about another. Colleague A was angry that Colleague B did things in her own way, and A was saying that if it were her, she would have done it another way, etc etc. I got tired and weary just listening to it all.

It's not that I don't like to listen to people. I do. It's just that when the misery that plagues someone is self-inflicted, it's hard to feel bad for them. Then again, it's so easy to judge, right? I've been guilty of the same thing myself.

I remember hearing another colleague talk about this guy she is involved with, and I was urging her to cease all contact and she was explaining how hard it was for her. I thought it was just a matter of will, but apparently not.

I realised this when someone from the not-so-recent (and still freshly hurting) past turned up, and all those old feelings flooded back. It's not so easy when you're in the hot seat. And all you want is someone who understands you. And listens without judgement.

Maybe THAT should be my resolution for 2008.

You And Me Then

I'm doing this because Elnie hinted that I should be hardworking AND greedy. Heh.

Leave a comment and I will....

1. Tell you why I friended you.
2. Associate you with something - fandom, a song, a colour, a photo, etc.
3. Tell you something I like about you.
4. Tell you a memory I have of you.
5. Ask something I've always wanted to know about you.
6. Tell you my favorite user pic of yours.
7. In return, you must post this in your Blog.

Anyone can leave a comment...even folks I haven't seen in years. Be my guest! I will be as honest as possible.

Waiting On The World To Change

Sometimes, I think: "Anywhere is better than here."

But....is it really?

Sick Of Being Sick, Tired Of Being Tired

So it's been a constant monotony of work-sleep-work-sleep, plus the occasional gathering with friends that are responsible for reviving my sanity. It's a good thing that work is quite fun as well, so I'm quite happy there, apart from one or two colleagues who I fantasise about throttling sometimes. But I realise that no matter where you work, there's always going to be someone who you'd like to punch in the face if you could get away with it. So I'm already very happy that this workplace has the least amount of punchy-people so far.

I've already given up on school. Or rather, I tell myself that, but deep down I'm secretly worried and wondering if there's time to scramble to action in the eleventh hour. I'm quite sure that when the exam date approaches, I would have kicked my own ass and started studying like hell. Crossing my fingers.

Today, some of my colleagues asked me who Edie Sedgwick was (because a customer asked whether we have her biography.) And I was like, "Um...well, she was this kinda muse to Bob Dylan and Andy Warhol...um...". Blank looks. Then I hit upon, "OH! She was like the 60s version of Paris Hilton!" and everyone was like, "OOHHHH!" It may not be 100% accurate, because Paris is certainly no muse, not even to artistic Gacy-type serial killers, but she was a heiress, socialite and "artist" just like Edie. So there.

I seriously need to trim down the hours of sleep I need. My body seems to be not happy with anything below 8 and when it's given complete autonomy, it wants to sleep beyond 12. So I don't know anymore. Grrr. Anyone have any ideas on how to stop being a sleep zombie?

Blackbird, fly

From The Shawshank Redemption:

Red: "I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright and when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice, but still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my friend."

John, Let Me Go

How can a month possibly have flown by already? How is it possible that I am yet scrambling to meet another essay deadline? March has been great music-wise, having gotten to see Mum and Sondre Lerche in concert (and getting to meet Sondre twice, woohoo!) and work has been pretty decent. However, I do NOT appreciate being perpetually sick. What, do I have some sign on my forehead that invites all passing bugs and parasites to kindly use my body as some kind of illegal host?

First, I had a cold, then it turned into the worst wracking cough I've ever had, then now I'm back to the cold. So, naturally, this is the order of the next few diseases I will surely be getting: herpes, gangrene, Ethiopian flesh-eating bacteria. If anyone wants to pass on any exotic viruses to me, you know the number.

I desperately need a vacation. Yet I see ALL my money being sucked into the damn tuition fees for next semester. Even with the gahmen's generous 40% discount, I still have to fork out over $2000. So I will not be a happy crab for the rest of the year, unless I bring in illegal immigrants on the side to make extra cash.

Sondre's songs are still ringing in my head! John, let me gooooo....(In this case, John = random ball of flu bugs and viruses)

1234, Tell Me That You Love Me More

I AM FINALLY DONE WITH MY DAMN ASSIGNMENT!

I can't tell you what a relief it is. Thankfully I got an extension from my tutor, but even with that, it was so damn hard to get started on the paper. Will I ever kick procrastination in the ass and be able to submit things on time? I guess not.

At the moment, I'm going to enjoy the immense feeling of RELIEF you get whenever you've just finished a huge, odious task that you've been putting off for the longest time. My fault, I guess, but damn it feels so goooood to get that off my back.

Still, I'll only get to celebrate for a day and then it's back to my second assignment which is due on 28 March. Which means only three and a half more weeks to do a 2000-word paper about something that I have absolutely no interest in. Boooo.

Excuses that I can use next time for a deadline extension:
1) I have a pathological need to watch American Idol or I will start going down to the local supermarket and hurling cabbages at innocent bystanders
2) The police suspect that Mas Selamat is hiding in my block and has evacuated everyone while they comb through our block for the next few weeks (cross out if Mas Selamat has been caught or already discovered shopping in some Indonesian night market)

Looking forward to Mosaic next week. Mum and Sondre Lerche, anyone?

While My Guitar Gently Weeps

I should be worried. My assignment is due in two days, and I have done squat. I haven't even read the textbook or typed one word. And I find myself not caring. I don't know why - maybe it's a subconscious reaction to the cutthroat ambitiousness of my classmates. The more "on the ball" they are, the less I care. And I really should be worried, considering the amount of money my mum and I paid for my school fees, but I. Just. Don't. Care.

I know I said that this year will be my fuck-it year. But I never intended to ignore schoolwork. Maybe it's because my lecturer and tutor this semester really suck, but that's no excuse. I could always read the textbook myself and do my own self-study, but that's not happening. I find myself more interested in who's winning American Idol and when 'Into The Wild' is coming out.

It's not just school, but it's other areas in my life that have been considerably shaken up. I always thought I would be fine as long as my core beliefs are there, as long as what I consider my identity is held firm and does not conform to what others expect of me. Yet, recently I find myself questioning that identity and whether it's right or wrong.

It's hard for me to express how I'm feeling - I guess everything I thought was true turned out to be wrong. I thought I was Person A, but instead I'm turning out to be more like Person B. And I had never intended to be Person B, and it's scary. And maybe I was never meant to be Person A in the first place? Is this even all making sense?