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?

Everybody's Talking At Me

Apologies for the lack of entries/participation lately. I know I haven't really replied to or read most of your entries, and please don't take it personally - I'm just in a really funky, anti-social mood right now. I'm sure it'll blow over after a while. So in the meantime, just let me have my emo moment.

Two talking points in the past two weeks: the movie Jumper, and American Idol Season 7. All I can say about Jumper is that lead actor Hayden Christensen needs to teleport himself to an acting school. Enough said.

Reviews (in 6 words or less) of certain American Idol male finalists:

David Archuleta: So cute! Must....adopt...now...

Luke Menard: Can't sing, but sooooo handsome! Hfdsbkerhj::%$#....

Robbie Whats-his-face: Two words. Nickelback wannabe. POSEUR! (He claims he's a rocker, so why does he sing like a Teletubbie?)

And now, we come to my favourite, who shares the same last name as a dictator...

Jason Castro: The eyes! The dreads! The 'aww shucks' personality!

And If I Touch You, You Don't Feel A Thing

Just finished my first tutorial of this semester. Let me just say this: I am struck and dumbfounded by just how boastful some people can be. My tutor just monopolised the entire lesson and didn't really let anyone get a word in. The thing is, when she asked us questions, she simply took the liberty of answering it herself without waiting for anyone's answers, even when people were putting up their hands to answer. She also talked about herself, her qualifications and so on. My lecturer is even worse. I miss my old lecturer and tutors, man. They were really intelligent people who cared more about the students than their own greatness.

Another thing: the school that I attend is full of teachers. So everyone loves to boast about how their job and how difficult it is and how much they earn. I can tell the difference between job pride and just plain arrogance, and this is definitely the latter. Come on man, you can't even speak English properly and you want to boast about being a teacher? What's the big damn deal? It's a job like any other. You're putting to shame those REAL teachers who go in everyday and slog damn hard for their kids and bring home tons of homework to mark without boasting about it to anyone who will listen. Disgusting.

Guess I'm just in a bitter mood now. Why is everyone so full of pride? When you think about how big the world - and the universe as well - is, you must realise how small we are in the scheme of things. There is nothing great about being a teacher or the manager of a bookshop or every other tiny achievement that we want to blow out of proportion and tell everyone else about. The reason why the world is so fucked up as it already is, is due to these people who can't get their head out of their asses. It's people like my former lecturers who maintain the balance, otherwise we would all have gone to hell in a handbasket a very long time ago.

Thank God for people like them. Damn, I really miss them.

Into The Wild

This is inspired by Sharon's post about wanting to watch American Gangster, as well as a burning desire to run screaming from my workplace and do something to take my mind off it. Just for my own reference, and in case anyone is interested: it's a list of movies that I'm planning to watch in the near future. If you want to catch anything with me, comment or SMS, please! Or you can squawk loudly in the cinema like Rashid, "MUST WATCH! MUST WATCH!"

- American Gangster
- Into The Wild
- I'm Not There
- Cloverfield
- Vantage Point
- 10000 BC
- Juno
- The Bucket List
- Chapter 27

I Want You (She's So Heavy)

So my new job started out quite horribly, but it's slowly getting better. Still, I can't complain because it's better than it being the other way round. I just have to be really alert and humble and make sure that I don't screw up.

Went with Jayine and Redz earlier to Skin at red dot traffic, which was a great loungey-type place that serves the best Shirley Temples that I have ever tasted. Elnie, you got to try this! The music was a bit too loud, but then I'm half-deaf anyway, so the difference is minimal. It's pretty funny because we ordered some bar food, and it took quite some time before the food arrived. The thing is, Redz and Jayine saw them 'tar-pau' the food (most likely from the nearby Maxwell Food Center) so it was pretty weird paying $12 for fries from a Western stall. Still, the ambience was excellent.

Like I was telling them earlier, I have decided that 2008 is my fuck-it year. I am just not going to care anymore. I'm not going to actively chase or pursue anything, because 2007 was all about active pursuing and chasing and wanting and hoping, and in the end, feeling let down and fucked up and used and stupid for ever thinking that anything would change. So my philosophy for 2008 is "Fuck it!" Say it with me again, kids!

I know I sound bitter, and I might be, but like I said, I'm just past the point of caring. I'm not going to entertain shallow friendships with people I don't care about. I'm not going to worry about all the TV shows and movies and books and bands that I might be missing out on. And this year *might* just be the year I start trying to forgive and forget past grudges - from those idiots in secondary school who made my life miserable to former colleagues who make Hitler look like Barney to myself - I just have got to let go of all that crap and stop lugging it about with me. Because it's getting old and no one cares, not even me anymore.

Hope my 2008 philosophy still stays the same after 2 months - okay lah, 2 hours, maybe?

Strawberry Fields Forever

So tomorrow is the start of my new job. I'm not sure what to expect, and the excitement I'm feeling is tempered with a sense of apprehension. I don't like looking forward too much to certain things in case they turn out to be major disappointments (which happens 95% of the time whenever I'm looking forward to something.) So I'm trying to go for 'blase' but it's veering dangerously close to being plain worried. Still, worrying isn't going to change anything. So I'll just shut up.

After a friend of mine lost his very close friend, I find my thoughts plagued once again with the question of mortality, and just what I want exactly out of life. As an ex-colleague put it bluntly, "Hah, why do you want to work at another bookstore?" Well, what else am I supposed to do? Sign up for a glamourous career in the army as a back-up paratrooper? Sell all my belongings and open up a halal char siew pao stall?

Yet, in a weird, twisted way, I do get what she means. And I don't know whether that's a good thing, or a bad thing. Wish me luck on my first day of work.

And Rashid - you have my utter condolences.

Strawberry Fields Forever

So tomorrow is the start of my new job. I'm not sure what to expect, and the excitement I'm feeling is tempered with a sense of apprehension. I don't like looking forward too much to certain things in case they turn out to be major disappointments (which happens 95% of the time whenever I'm looking forward to something.) So I'm trying to go for 'blase' but it's veering dangerously close to being plain worried. Still, worrying isn't going to change anything. So I'll just shut up.

After a friend of mine lost his very close friend, I find my thoughts plagued once again with the question of mortality, and just what I want exactly out of life. As an ex-colleague put it bluntly, "Hah, why do you want to work at another bookstore?" Well, what else am I supposed to do? Sign up for a glamourous career in the army as a back-up paratrooper? Sell all my belongings and open up a halal char siew pao stall?

Yet, in a weird, twisted way, I do get what she means. And I don't know whether that's a good thing, or a bad thing. Wish me luck on my first day of work.

And Rashid - you have my utter condolences.

It's Not Over...Yet

Many apologies for the loooong absence. I could blame it on a lot of things - a stagnant internet connection, work, uber-laziness, inertia....but I'd rather save the excuses. So, like a Haitian zombie experiment gone horribly wrong, I'm back from the dead, lurching about and mumbling, "Brains...."

Happy 2008, people. I hope this will be a better year for me, and for all of us as well.

Nsync, dried flowers and Grey's Anatomy

Rules:

*Each blogger must post these rules first
*Each blogger must start with eight random facts/habits about themselves
*Bloggers tagged need to write in their own blog about their eight things
*At the end of your blog, choose eight people to get tagged, and list their names

1. When I was young, I used to eat my mum's dried flowers and steal my neighbour's slippers.

2. There are a lot of things I don't like that most people I know like: hawaiian pizza, Grey's Anatomy, that damn ping-pong song by Enrique Iglesias.

3. I cannot stand the sight of blood, flesh and bone, but I'm extremely fascinated with serial killers.

4. I usually must read 2 books at a time, and it must always be one fiction and one non-fiction. I can't read 2 fiction or 2 non-fiction at one go. Why? Because I'm a psycho.

5. The best places I've travelled to are as follows: Koh Samui, London, Bangkok and Osaka.

6. I have a strong suspicion that I will never get married.

7. I will listen to any kind of music except country and German polka.

8. I secretly like to watch Oprah and listen to N'Sync and Westlife. If anyone calls me on it, I will pretend to laugh and scoff, then run away.

Since almost everyone on Multiply has been tagged, I shall tag the following victims:

Aliah
Jayine
Imah
Crystal
Ah Poh
Juanna
Almir
Eugenia

(If I didn't tag you, it's because I saw that you've already been tagged by someone else.)

Hopefully this will go through, no thanks to the stupid intermittent internet connection. *crosses fingers*

Colour The Small One

Apologies to everyone for the recent quiet spell. A lot of things happened to me last week - I quit my job, got a new job, lost my internet connection due to a faulty modem, sprained my back and missed out on both my birthday and Hari Raya. How horrible is that? I've only been able to watch from a miserable distance as everyone else was making preparations and having fun, but that has also rather excused me from having to help clean the house, haha. My best friend also turned up at my house at midnight on my birthday with a beautiful cake, so that more than made up for the fact that I've been stranded at home for the past week.

Still, a few good things came out of it. Watched a lot of DVDs, read a lot of books and found out from the acupuncturist that I have incredibly poor blood circulation and that if I hadn't come to her earlier, it would have resulted in more serious symptoms apart from a sprained back. Also, I've learnt to be a LOT more patient with those old people who walk along pathways very slowly, now that I've been walking like them for a week. Also, some people who I thought would remember my birthday didn't, and those who I thought would have forgotten totally surprised me. So it only goes to show that people always, always surprise you, and to expect any more or any less of them is stupid, especially when I'm guilty of some of the same things myself.

Tomorrow, I start my new job. As I was telling Redz, I hope that this doesn't start a whole round of job-hopping. But you know what, it's sort of like going on lots of dates before settling down with someone you're really serious about. I'd rather wait and job-hop before finding one job I really like, instead of trying to settle down into something straight away and ending up unhappy, which was the lesson I learned last month.

In any case, Selamat Hari Raya, folks. My deepest and sincerest apologies for any wrong that I may have done to you, intentionally or otherwise.

A Time To Be So Small

For the past week, I've been in a really weird mood that I haven't been able to suss out, and it's making me do and say weird things. It's mostly to do with work and my muddled thoughts about -what-the-hell-am-I-doing-with-my-life-and-career and the same old crap. Then earlier, I had a bit of an insight that helped to shed light on why I'm feeling this way.

I was logging into my school portal when I saw an ad (targetted at prospective students) about current students, the degree they're pursuing and what they eventually hope to achieve. There was one about this 50+ year old ang moh engineer who's taking the same course as me and eventually wants to be an English teacher, after a lifetime in engineering.

My first reaction was, "Wah, so old already, still want a career switch? What's the point?" Right there, I managed to pinpoint exactly why I've been feeling so down and weird recently. It was my own skewed perception that the main chunk of life is meant to be enjoyed in your youth, before you hit 40 or 50. At that point, I had these weird, preconceived ideas that you're supposed to be well established in your career and family life before then, not going back to school and making career switches.

But, the thing is, why not? Over half of my schoolmates in the English course are older than my parents. More than 90% of them are juggling full-time work, school and kids. I'm one of the odd ones out who don't have to get up at 4am for some alone time so they can finish their assignments without the kids bugging them. So why do I have the very biased thinking that life is over at 40, 50?

This ang moh engineer reminded me of my dad, roughly around the same age but at the other end of the spectrum. The other day, he messaged my brother to tell him that he had to cut my brother's monthly allowance of $200 in half, because "he needed to save for his old age." Granted, I understand my dad's motivations, but part of me is horrified that my dad doesn't even have any CPF money because he spent most of his life being self-employed and neglected to save any money for his retirement. Now, divorced, alone and broke, he has to skimp on the maintenance money he promised to my brother and my mum just so he has money for his old age.

Now, don't get me wrong, I fully intend to provide for my father once I'm older and he no longer has the capacity to work. But the thing is, if life is really over at 50 as I mistakenly think it is, then what about people like my dad, who don't even have any CPF savings to their name?

I think my biggest fear is that I don't want to end up like my dad. I've had people roll their eyes at me before when I said that, and I get the reply, "Nobody wants to be exactly like their parents, it's not only you." But they don't understand. I'm now recognising signs in myself that are EXACTLY like my dad - the short temper, extravagant spending, a tendency to blame others for our own mistakes. Looking at my own finances, I know it's only a matter of time before I'm 50 and I'm exactly like my dad, living alone with nothing but failed, empty dreams. It makes me sad for him, and it makes me afraid for myself.

I need to get over the mindset that I need to achieve whatever I want to achieve as quickly as possible because I feel that time is running out. It isn't, it's indifferent, it continues whether I agonise over it or not, and I get another year older still stuck in the same rut despite my fretting and whining and overanalysing things. Some things have changed this year, and I actually am happier in the department of friends and family, and I have to work on a couple of other things and just, well, stop complaining about everything and stop having these weird ideas.

Pace Is The Trick

I'd always imagined that my heart was always behind a high-walled fortress, secured with state of the art technology and guarded by huge, burly security guards twice the size of Vin Diesel. But deep down I know better, I know that my heart's guarded by nothing except a battered door barely hanging onto its rusty hinges, and that if I blink for a second, anyone can get past and do their worst. Or their best. So far, it's always been the first one.

I know I'm too flighty, too impulsive, too easily ruled by my emotions. This makes me an ideal candidate for heartbreak, and if it weren't for the advice from more pragmatic friends, I might be worse off than I am today.

At the moment, I'm not too sure what to do. I think burying myself in work and school is a good idea. I should stay away from matters of the heart for a while. Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results. If all I have for protection is a rusty door, then I have no business being open to attack from any Tom, Dick or Harry.

Or Andrew.