returns

because i've signed up for nuffnang and wordpress doesn't really let me do much with the layout unless i buy space (with money i clearly don't have). a couple of updates. terribly terribly hooked to linkin park's latest album and that girly crush on chester bennington has risen again. this time, it encompasses mike shinoda.

HELP! i'm 22 and still behaving like a little girl (does not help that i look like 1 too).

back to research and senseless ramblings and talking about how chester rips deep into my heart with his heart-aching vocals and screams.

sigh.

moving moving GONE

Have moved.

Update biatchez!

hello good morning

I quote someone, that sometimes things just fall into place. And fall they do, when you least expect them to. This weeks looks to be quite fun. What with meeting the classmates tomorrow at Timbre for some catching up and laughs as well as getting ready for Phuket. I've been pretty exhausted. Late nights, early mornings and tonnes of WZ-related articles that I've been avoiding because of FIVB (and now have no reason nor excuse to not start on). Been missing my homeboys a lot, even as I receive sporadic MSN messages from the Lizard King. There's been a lot of things on my mind, so lost in thought that I even forgot to schedule jam sessions.

Well, we're not playing Tapestry and I'd prefer to think that there are other opportunities and gigs for us to shine and debut.

Whoa. If not for the fact that my colleague asked about sharing a cab to the airport, I would have thought we'd only be there at 6pm. Turns out its a morning flight. 7am. That means Thursday night is chop-chop pack and sleep early lest I wake up late and suffer a horrible death. Yikes.

I've set aside the clothes for work. OMG. Looking at the cupcakes on all them delish websites makes me want to devour a few. And since someone's been asking me what I want for my birthday and I don't really know yet what I want, I'll just make something up la.

1. Nokia 7390 or a Samsung i600
2. CUPCAKES! Cute! Pretty! Ones!
3. A mountain bike (because it makes travelling healthier HAHA!)
4. Lens, ask me proper for what range

I've run out of things.

I'm thinking that I can only start baking and cooking when I'm married and have kids. Strange how ideals change as you grow older. Well, it's possible to be a career mom. Sell cookies, bake brownies, cook damndelish food, run the house, manage the kids and still look hawt. Ok, the hawt part is a bit dodgy but you get my picture. Omg. I'm just growing old la.

Also, been eating WAY too much. Gonna swim it all off over the weekend. Man I so can't wait for it!

now what do i say?

Running purists will frown at me.

I was late. But I still ran! I had one goreng pisang and water and the nano to keep me going. And well, I ran back the same way too. All in all, 3.2kliks. Not bad. It's like running around the neighbourhood, only warmer and packed with a LOT of people.

Chilling with the DYL-ers, as always, is cool. Although it's beginning to grate on my nerves when all they (or rather, with the appearance of someone) talk about ends up being sex. I mean c'mon la. You meet up, once ever so often, just to talk about sex? How much more shallow and superficial can you be?

Once again, said idiot proves why if you have nothing to say at all, you shouldn't even say it. The next time it happens I'm just all prepared to say this: Gee, you really need a new opening line _ _ _ _.

Gonna shower, catch a quick nap then head back out to town to catch the BMX action. Feel so guilty to have missed it yesterday. Eeps!

Would anyone be interested in doing such runs with me in future? Girls or guys, I don't care! The more the merrier! Feel so awkward after the runs to try and find the PR people (wah lau, it's so damn chaotic and there should be a media center la) only to have them pass me my media pass and leave me to fend myself (or rather, she was more interested in talking to the report from the TODAY newspaper).

Ok. SHOWER! I STINK! HAHAHA!

I need to invest in more of those drifit climacool tops and running shorts. Also been ordered by the sister to clean up my stuff and shower. Nyeargh. BYE!

i'm neurotic but i'm better with a pen

My kit arrived. My shoulders hurt. I have to get ready for work. I realise I can start my own talkshow and call it, The Grumpy Show with Lin. Cute right? But

For a second I thought Nike had a whole range of equipment for hockey and when I clicked on it, CHEY! It's for ice hockey. Oh well. Then again, I believe I've outgrown the sport somewhat and apart from random quips of beach volleyball here and there, I am pretty keen on picking up netball. At least I know I won't ruin my posture since there won't be much back-breaking tackling.

I WANT MORE OVERSEAS ASSIGNMENTS!

Anyway, if I don't get my ass into the shower and get ready I'm going to miss out the Adventure Roadshow. So toodles! With luck, I'll have decent enough pictures even with a kitlens. It's time to go back to basics and not rely on the company camera so much.

oh my god, what have i done

Two words: I'm running.

And speaking of weird, whilst doing research at work today I found this - Extreme Ironing? Ookae. Sometimes, people have too much time on their hands eh?

"You only think you understand. People cannot perfectly understand each other. They can't even understand themselves. Understanding a hundred percent of anything is impossible. So, people endeavour to attempt to learn about themselves and others. That's what makes life interesting." —Ryouji Kaji

Finally met up with the darling Quin. We walked and window-shopped and talked and everything else. Miss the babe so damn much. Shoulda taken photos but I looked like shit and my camera wasn't with me. I think I shall get that dress tomorrow for the trip.

I feel old and lethargic. Walking around for 2 hours tires me out. No one to drink with either. Everyone's just too busy. Sad. Nevermind. Gonna shower and concuss. Adventure roadshow tomorrow, take a couple of shots and make new friends and then catch the rest of the gang at Arab St.

despair

I am amazed, at times, at how violent I get when I'm angry. Looking at the aftermath, wondering what possessed me.

You get that feeling sometimes, that you're just alone. That as much as you try reaching out to people, trying to express what it is that you feel that you're going through but no one simply understands. I just want to give up, surrender. I just want to let go and stop being so defensive, to keep protecting myself at every turn.

I want to stop it but I can't. Because I know the moment I do, I'm doomed. The moment I let my guard down, I'll suffer. Vulnerability. This small, soft, shy, timid thing that's me, coming out of that huge-ass wannabe I'm-a-tough-girl shell.

It makes you want to cry. It makes you want to scratch deep into your arms and ask yourself why. It's a feeling that makes you stare endlessly into space, a feeling that makes you question your existence.

that sounded like fun

I am trying to figure out where 70bucks disappeared from my account. It cannot be from the Singapore Cancer Foundation because the monthly donations should be deducted on the 15th of every month. Unless, I've been tricked and there goes my faith in charitable organizations who actually try to scam and con people. Not nice. Really not nice. It had me embarassing the shit out of myself and swearing never again to stay out late at night without having at least 50bucks (cash) on me.

Stupid girl, lu garou.

Although I'm glad that at least the turtle had fun, even despite the jostling and the packed sardine situation it usually is in Zouk. Oh yeah, we headed to The Clinic first for free drinks, instead of 5 complimentaries, we got only 3. Another scam. No matter. 'Ta'-ing is not that bad. When you have only 3 drinks, you need to do that to get high really fast. The Clinic is basically dead. Dead as dead can get. God knows my they even bother opening it in the first place. Filled with really weird and random people, although the bouncers were nice. I suppose they get the cheap thrills from buayas (who cannot make it, sadly) on the prowl.

Zouk, or rather Phuture, is always packed. I think turtle had better fun in Mambo than in Phuture. So next time we just Mambo the night away okae? :D Pity my camera battery was flat, forgot to charge it in the midst of all the action. Ok. I know who the culprit is. NTUC Income deducted $33.40 from my account for god knows what reason. I think it's got something to do with my insurance. But I thought my insurance was from AIA? Aiya fuck that.

Just managed to talk to the Lizard King. I MISS MY NEIGHBOUR/HOMIE! Yes I miss the boys. Each and everyone of them. Yes I sound mushy and am probably insane but I blame it on medication and being sick and feeling like crap. Today I'm heading home early to rest and concuss. Tomorrow with the mates, Saturday with DYL and Sunday to chill, like finally. Can't believe its just a week more to Phuket.

I feel so grogged out and drowsy. I just want to go home, curl on the bed with my notebook and my external hdd and watch movies all night long. I will not bank in my cheque yet. I think I lost my EZLink (OMFG 40BUCKS LOR!) and my sweet mother was kind enough to loan me hers and pass me some cash. Will buy her a new EZLink, pay off debts and live like a hermit.

I think I don't really like clubbing anymore. Mambo is fun, when they play songs like Maroon 5 and Bon Jovi's It's My Life. Hell, I'm growing old.

moonlit sonata

While the rest of the world sleeps, I found my guilty indulgence. Standing by the window with Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata and watching the trails of smoke from my dying cigarette. Never strange, never funny how classical music - the instrumentals - never fail to soothe frayed nerves and tired souls. I wonder what was going through Beethoven's mind when he composed this. By far, one of the most sanguine and yet hopeful pieces I've ever heard.

It makes me think of long walks along empty stretches of road with only the moon to guide me. It makes me think of the quiet breeze against my face and the feel of cool earth and grass beneath my feet. It makes me think of all the faces in the darkness; the sad sorrowful gazes and how they fade as I walk closer.

I think of the past and the foolishness. I think of the past and the happier moments. I think of a dim flickering light in the distance, a candle with my name.

Of fragmented memories of a childhood long gone, long past. Of children's laughter and a parent's lecture. Of schoolbells and missed classes, of hockey matches with victory that was never ours. Of disappointment and defeat, of every line scored on my arms and legs. Of the burning anguish and miscommunication.

And all of life passes me by. In this silent quiet night. And all of the things I could never be proud of, only dismayed.

Maybe I should go back to listening to happier songs. On the bright side, I found Casshern. That ought to make work later today far more bearable. Provided the editor vanishes from the office.

get some action

Today we live in the era of information. Information that comes with just the click of the mouse. That gets us virtually about anything that we went. No more need for manual research. No more need to travel painstakingly to the library to do your research. All you need was a working CPU and a modem (plus internet subscription) and you were free. Done for the day.

At first it was Altavista and Yahoo. Then Google came into the picture and destroyed everything for those two search engines. You can find recipes, you can find out how to get to some random ulu place but most importantly, you could find people. And so begins the dark age of technostalking. But just because I know a thing or two about exploiting the mechanics of the search engine doesn't mean I abuse it just to stalk people.

C'mon. I've better things to do. Like research, which is coming along pretty well. Now to piece things together and be ready for the big events in July. Mmm I smell the sea and sand already.

Updates on the weeks' schedule:

MON - Jam (done)
TUES - Nothing (free as a bird or lark or whatever flying mammal there is)
WED - Clubbing with the turtle (ITS LAYDEEEES NIGHT!)
THURS -
FRI - Drinks with the ex-schoolmates
SAT - Rock the Sub + Sheesha
SUN - Work in the morning and then chillaxing

I love the way the week fills up sometimes. Life's too short to spend it waiting by the phone. If no action is going to come to me, I'm gonna go out and get some.

it's all about love baby

I think I blog way too much when there's too much time on my hands. Or actually that isn't the case because I have had too much time just the inability to express what I truly want to say.

There are times where you question the viablity and sustainability of romance in this day and age. An era filled with skeptics and cynics eager to prove the optimist and the romantic wrong. I'm all for skepticism. I'm all up for believing that the perfect happily ever after doesn't exist. For that matter, happily ever afters, in general, do NOT exist.

So says a person whose parents are still married to each other. With the occasional fights and squabbles and shriekfests (well, that's pretty common when one's loading up on testosterone and the other has decided to retreat into his shell of oestrogen), there are still those moments when I catch them being all nice and lovey with each other and makes me go awww inside. My father can be a bitch at times, acerbic wit. That's where we got it from and my mom's an utter pain with her endless teacher-like nags. But hey, that's family and as time goes by, it's how married couples evolve.

But you see, this kinda love takes place only after years of putting up with each other's bullshit and nonsense. They don't say 'I love you'. Only to us, their offspring. But I've yet to hear each say that to either. My parents are proof, somewhat, that arranged marriages do last and last for a long time. Which is why I'm all up for arranged marriages because despite all the nagging and whining and bitching and everything else; parents do know best after all.

Or rather, they don't really know me as much as they should or want to but hey, whatever floats their boat and makes them happy at the end of the day is fine by me.

So yes. I was talking about the viability of such and such in this time and age. I look at young couples on the street getting all cozy and mushy with each other and questions start streaming through my head.

1. Does he or she know it's not going to be like this forever?
2. Do they know the 'true' responsibilities of being in a relationship?
3. Sex does not always equate to love. Sex is all about physical gratification.
4. They're so going to get bored of each other, soon enough.

You can blame it on my bad run-ins in past relationships. Blame it all on my deep-seated inability to commit. Blame it all on my skewed and terribly biased opinion regarding the true meaning of love. Of which, if you'd like to know, it actually just means showing care and concern for another person and was derived from the Anglo-Saxons. HAH!

Maybe you can only say that you love a person when you're both old and graying and trying to defy gravity but you know that ain't gonna happen at all. After putting up with each other's shit, standing together in the face of calamity and chaos, well, there's GOT to be some deeper form of connection and communication beyong the physical right?

You're welcome to prove me wrong. You're welcome to change my mind. And if you do, that's good. Because I'm tired of seeing the same old things, the same old breakups and the same old problems.

Show me that you're right. With good logic and reasoning please. Because wishy-washy half-truths will only land you misery.

Right now I'm cautious to use the word. I'd prefer 'like' to love. After all, it's safer no?

behind the scenes

This morning, as much as I was cheated out of a dollar for my cabfare, it was interesting to see the way family attempt to stay together and be in contact. The taxi driver and his whole family play Maple Story. Yes, that stupid hack-slash repetitive nonsense that I was hooked once and then got frustrated and gave up on it completely. Everyone plays. His wife, two daughters, brother-in-law and hell, even his dad (which would make it the kid's grandpa) plays it.

Interesting.

I never really sat down to take note of what my editor meant when he talked about steep learning curve. I thought that hey, I suppose learning how to write appropriately for a publication was steep enough. But it entails more than just that. Yes, some of my dahling friends who believe that I am being exploited since I earn monkey's pay for the amount of work that I do. But I guess people forget that the term 'internship' means to learn as well.

So what have I exactly learnt? Apart from angling the way I write to fit in not just the facts but the emotional element (well, I try. I ain't perfect but I'm gonna get there soon), I've been doing a hecklot of research on other stuff as well. Google is seriously your best friend. Got to know all these really cool athletes and from time to time, we get freebies too. Also, the media pass allows you power and the freedom to roam wherever you feel you should. I'm preparing this board in my room with a montage of all the media passes I've gotten during this period as an intern. It helps, to look young and blur sometimes, because then people take pity on you. Hur.

Guess my brain's decided to take a break after all the chaos of the past few weeks. We're gonna be focussing a lot on triathletes and running/swimming/biking come next issue. So loads of interviews (hopefully) and research. I ♥ you Google. You are my best friend. Although you can be a bitch at times but still, you're my best friend.

I will resist banking in my cheque till next week. Must survive! And learn how to budget and manage.

The photographer who came in on Thursday dropped by and what he said about the mechanics of shooting sport or taking photos in general reminded me why I bought my Canon in the first place. "Young photographers are only content to be spectators. They only document. They don't engage the subject." He spoke of how he studied the players from China, got to know them as individuals - their characters and personalities all from behind the lens.

I had this thing going on in my head. That the worth and capability of a photographer was measured by the equipment they had. So i slunk away from most shootouts because I was still stuck with a kitlens and built-in flash. I made excuses and eventually my Canon got a little dusty. It still is, waiting for me to get back on my feet and shoot again.

It's the thing that makes me feel alive. Just peering through the lens and waiting for the action. Finding that slice of colour despite the monotony of the world around. Of being able to grasp the concept of life through images. It's not a lot, many people tout it, but it makes me feel as if finally there's something that keeps me sane. That makes this life worth living.

I am not a professional photographer. I doubt I will ever be. All those dreams of being a travel photojournalist and working for the National Geographic is only a dream, wishful thinking. But I am a photographer. I am one who composes the shot in her head before hitting the trigger. One who climbs down into drains to get up-close and personal.

Or rather, I was.

This weekend, I promise I'll bring my Canon out. To take shots of bands. To have the colours and lights swerve and play. Why not? Seriously.

Why not?

thanks ah

To tell the truth, I'm quite entertaining the idea that maybe just maybe I am turning gay. Not that I'm getting any amount of attention from the same sex, still getting pervy glances from dirty old (now they've a race too) men. What the hell. My skirt can't possibly be that short, it's mid-thigh and I have legs like chickens. I mean, not skinny legs but elephant chickens. So yes.

Grifter - No. 11 says:
les?
ichimaru lin. our days were numbered by nights, on too many rooftops. says:
yeahhhh
Grifter - No. 11 says:
we all know abt it
ichimaru lin. our days were numbered by nights, on too many rooftops. says:
...
ichimaru lin. our days were numbered by nights, on too many rooftops. says:
thanks ah eddy
Grifter - No. 11 says:
wahahaha

Perhaps this is what happens when you hang out with too many guys. Testosterone rubs off on you. Not just in BF2 where you're screaming vularities because you just got headshot by the computer. FOR SPARTA!!! Or when you're ogling some hot chick with the rest of the boys and she's got legs and an ass that's like whoa. Ok. I can see why people think I'm not straight and no one's batted an eyelid yet as to why I'm still single.

I CAN BE SINGLE DAMN IT! I DON'T HAVE TO BE IN A RELATIONSHIP EVERY 3 WEEKS AFTER I BREAK UP!

Sometimes they're adorable and endearing (though there are limits to it) and sometimes I just want to strangle the whole lot. I have feelings too. :(

So now to get ready for jam. I'm hungry but I'm gonna control my diet/appetite and aim to lose all the weight I've been gaining over the past couple of months. Too happy eat so much.

LOVELOVE and yes, now you can ALL CALL ME AND HANG OUT WITH ME BECAUSE DEADLINE WEEK IS OVER AND I AM FREE FREE FREE!

some things you write are a little...

My editor just told me this, whilst we sat down discussing the feature I wrote for the FIVB.

Some of the things, or rather the way I wrote, kinda gave the impression that I swung the other way. Which could be bad for me because then people typecast and stereotype me as being the lesbian or rather, not straight, sports journalist from Sportmag. He took the liberty to making me look straight.

I heard it and I nearly laughed my head off.

Ah well sir, I'm actually very bisexual. Do you think that could help open up the playing field for me? Since it's pretty much dead in my zone.

Sniff sniff.

All's well that ends well. We're looking forward to a weekend of sun and fun. And maybe soon enough, with all the volleyball action going on, next year Sportmag might just send in a team to play. :D

secret places we don't fight this

1. That I watched the demo for Starcraft II. It is sex. Like really. Hardcore sex. I am loving the Protoss every minute. 15 minutes of unsolicitated concentration on my PSP just watching the gameplay. THE PROTOSS HAVE A MOTHERSHIP AND THE PLANET CRACKER LOOKS DAMN AWESOME!

2. The bus ride was unfortunate because just as we reached JB, the immigration checkpoint or whatever it was, it died. It being the bus. And well, my brother went missing, parents went ballistic, found him again, shouting fiesta between the mother and father, then I said something and my sister spilled soyabean everywhere because it was fucking random.

3. Not smoking and not really dying. Least not yet. Tomorrow I will smoke hardcore. My lungs miss the nicotine.

4. I can't really remember what I bought in KL. Not a lot of clothes. Books? Ohh yes. Lingerie.

5. I think I allowed my brain to rot far too much. I realise that whatever things are right now are not how they're meant to be. They should be how they were meant to be. Meaning... I'll have to do something about this.

6. People should not flirt with me when I'm tired because I take everything out of context and am thoroughly not amused.

7. WHERE HAVE THE HOMEBOYS GONE?!

8. I still look 16. Or rather, people still believe I'm 16. That would explain a lot of things.

9. I HATE THE FUCKING TRAIN STATION THERE. OMFG. WE HAD TO WALK SO MUCH LA. Did not help my ankle went bust and limping back to the hotel (because SOMEONE [read: father] so smart wanted to walk back and said it was damn near whaaaat) in the rain is very uncool. Uncool meaning the pain can drive you up the wall and force you into hysterics.

10. Maybe it's just me, but I had no appetite in KL at all. Might be because of cigarettes. And oh, Starbucks. I went all the way there, to survive on Starbucks. 12 FUCKING RINGGIT OMG. I suppose some things don't change.

11. My hairstylist (who smacked her head looking at the condition of my hair) said she could get me tix to the F1 prix or whatever it is in KL. See if I can get the boss to sponsor accomodation or some shit. Mwahahah. :D

12. Oh yeah. The beds were the sex. Apple juice did not taste like apple juice and my sister still gets leered at by people even when the fiance is around.















*

Doubt Mike is coming along for Bintan. Tomorrow I'll get that flyer again, settle the finances with Shaikha and go for jam.

MON - jam
TUES -
WED -
THURS -
FRI -
SAT - Tapestry audition + Rock the Sub + Sheesha with DYLers
SUN - Orchard Anlene Run + Samsung Inline Thingy

Ok. I'm only free from Tues to Thurs and the stupid best friend is busy dating the whole world and then later whining that I don't have time for him. Grar.

i've returned

I AM HOME! OMG THANK GOD I'M HOME!

So much drama. Seriously. I tell you I think people think I'm nuts because when the rest of the family is going nuts and stressing out and shouting at each other I'm sitting down laughing my head off. Nicotine-deprived.

HAVE YOU ANY IDEA HOW PAINFULLY TORTURING IT IS TO BE IN A COUNTRY WHERE EVERYONE SMOKES EVERYWHERE AND YOU CAN'T DO THE SAME THING BECAUSE YOU'RE VACATIONING WITH FAMILY WHO BELIEVE YOU DON'T?!

Omg. Seriously la. I want to kill myself. Or rather, I wanted to kill myself.

Ling and Dzef now? Together? Surprising much? Maybe not.

Unpack, find clothes for tomorrow and concuss. Airconditioning is dripping again and it is not cool. Water everywhere and pissing me off. Will write something more philosophic and self-reflectory (if there be such a word) tomorrow. Or when I feel better. Freakonomics (yes, I bought the book in KL's Borders) is a delight to my cerebral tastebuds. Yummeh.

don't you wish you were everything?

Apparently, sitting in the toilet with a pen and paper in hand is actually very beneficial. How many brilliant creative ideas were magically woven from the confines of the toilet? What is it though about expelling fecal matter that aids in creativity? Is that how you spell it in the first place? Fecal that is. Or was it faeces. Or is that spelling wrong as well?

Anyway. My nose is beginning to peel and I saw this terribly pretty blue dress (although a little too short to my liking but hey, an incentive to get those legs worked and toned out) in Topshop. Somehow the prices for such apparel never fail to raise my eyebrows. I mean seriously. Had I the skill and the knowledge I could whip up the same thing for less. I mean considering that the price of the cloth made is maybe just a little under 20 bucks, I could earn a heck lot of money!

Speaking of which, maybe I should. But this entails asking the mother to teach me and the mother is not really what you consider the best of all tutors. She is a brilliant seamstress though (of course, considering that she spent close to 5 grand on a sewing machine) and majority of our Hari Raya clothes were all sewn by her. Until the family dilemma that is and then we just hired people to do it for us because everyone was too busy and caught in their own little drama.

I know I'm one hell of an impulsive person. Impulsive purchases and actions, which sometimes lands me in trouble. One justification (although I'm sure it screams IN DENIAL and EXCUSES) would be that hey, we only live life once and I'm only 21 (or whatever age I may have been at that point in time) once so let's just whack it!

Doesn't mean I don't regret a lot of things that I've done or wished that I could have done it and handled it in a different way but well. What's past is past and I can only cringe in either utter embarassment or disgust with myself. It is me afterall living with the consequences, not that it should matter nor affect anyone else.

This just in. I'm sharing a room with the other 2 girls from the company. Okla. I promise I won't be much of a hindrance and will wake up well before either do. Good image and all that shit. I hope I'll be able to get my lens by then. Will be bringing Illiriel along so you guys won't miss me much while I'm away! I'll be online yo! At least I hope they have internet connection there. Else it's gonna suck bad. Editor also mentioned something about investigative journalism. End of June, we're gonna be trying to save lives. Will update once I get more details regarding it. Do I really want people to fear me because of what I do? Guess sometimes you can't help it if it's a double-edged sword. Someone's gotta do, I'm just the foolish idiot who ignorantly signed up for it.

Right. Back to work, I'm beginning to like the second draft of the article even more. Let's just hope the editor likes it as well.

This isn't a game report. It's worth more than that.

lights will guide me home, i hope

There are times where it creeps up on you unaware. Or rather, you are aware just that you've been denying it for far too long. Those times you just feel like giving it up and giving in to the moment. But a simple word, a simple reminder is all it takes for that little bubble to burst, sending you crashing down to earth like a meteorite.

So I had fun today because retail therapy is always bliss. Clothes strewn about, the mess echoing the chaos that's so life-like. Reading up on people's lives and putting the pieces together. Slowly, but surely at least.

I feel content once again. Money does make the world go round. That and retail therapy. :D

i'm a supermodel, yeah right

There are 2 things I want for my birthday. I need to spam this on my sister's blog as a hugeass hint. HAHAHAHAHA!

Nokia 7390 and a pair of Oakley Grapevines.

Simple right? :D

under these abundant skies

Hypocrisy goes hand in hand with contradictions. It's a human failing and try as we might, sometimes we just truly can't help it. But I'm sure there's got to be a way with which we can fight it. Or is it not meant to be fought in the first place?

Hello I am a journalist and so are you. We're working in the same line and we're talking to the same people. Is it not polite, at the very least, to smile and say hello and not talk down at me (just because you're a couple of inches taller) and look at me as if I'm nothing more than this uninteresting roach that's been dead for hours. So we're competitors but hey it doesn't mean that we can't be civil to each other. Honestly, I think right now I don't care much for national reporters. They can flaunt their pretty SPH namecards in my face for all they want and I won't be giving a shit. In a couple of months from now I won't be in that vein of work anymore. On to lusher fields I say!

A friend was telling me about how women are jealous and sometimes they try to find a significant other who is a little 'below' them just to make themselves feel better. See, in my past, some of my significant others were far far above than I was. Ok, maybe just one of them was. The bass player was the most intelligent smart aleck I've ever met. To date, I still think he's harbouring an atomic bomb or something similar in his house. Why we didn't work out? Well... let's just say conflicting interests and I get bored pretty easily. Of people and of a lot of things.

Right now I'm just obsessed with finding a rich, powerful corporate bastard who looks just like that geek with the tinted glasses on Beauty and the Geek. Last night catching him on TVMobile and I swear that my heart literally stopped. Chiselled looks, that slight sheepishness and uncertainty and the body. HELLO MOTHER! See, the thing right now is that we cannot be fooled into committment because of love. And why not you ask? Because love doesn't truly exist and if it did, it comes in the form of chocolate, Krispy Kreme and cute-ass cupcakes.

I consider marriage and committment like a business partnership. You get together because you both complement each other, able to provide what the other lacks and balance out the ying and yang. So for example he's a heartless bastard then in contrast I'll be the nice accomodating soul who reminds him from time to time that being human is actually a good thing. And well if the sex is good, all the more better. Sex is important, guys can't deny it and neither can you girls. Good sex is even better. So help me find a rich, powerful, alphamale corporate bastard who's damn fucking good in bed. Oh yes, he has to look decent at the very least because I'll be damned if I have to spend together-forever with someone who looks like Homer Simpson or Quagmire.

If I told my mother this she'd have fits.

After a nice packet of iced coffee (whereby the people who served me are truly a bunch of money-hungry dickheads charging me an extra ten cents JUST because it was packeted and not in the usual cup, bloody motherfuckers) and a smoke, I'm ready to tackle the damned Oakley article. I will devote the whole of today to it. By hook or by crook I WILL FINISH IT! That includes the athlete profiling as well. Rod Monteiro really is cute, it's just a damn pity he's married. Oh, his wife is hot and hence I stand no chance.

Oh and to close this. Did one of those online quizzes (which are really nothing more than a bunch of trash but hey I was bored and had too much time) and it said that I was not a hot chick! Not at all. Sad sia. I'm more tomboyish but apparently I ooze out a lot of sex appeal. Right.

My playing field is dead I tell you. And oh, the editor just walked in. Today I shall shop at Vivo because the GSS has begun and daddy gave me money to spend. :D

And one final edit, the guy who took the shots for the Rip Curl BVB should not be hired at all. For all your fancy lens and gadgets, I take better shots than you do.

sometimes

Sometimes she wishes
that someone would talk about her
in that manner.
That sweet tender lovingness,
with reverence or perhaps love.

Then again, who am I kidding.

this is all a part of me

You know there are times where I can be so amazed by the amount of superficial trash we think and talk about. And then there are times when I'm just going WTF at all these deep insightful nonsense that we believe is going to save the world or at least redeem us in the eyes of the higher power (which might or might not exist depending on your fancy) so that we'd get that last chance ticket into heaven instead of being damned eternally to hell.

It's really interesting. I mean at warp speed my brain is locked in this volleyball (oooh the irony) of thoughts and decisions and revelations and promulgations (I do not believe that such a word exists and if it does I believe that I may have used it in the wrong context but since no one here bothers or cares then I really don't give a shit) and it actually makes me feel revved up to want to DO something instead of just sit here and stare at my monitor and lament and moan.

Oh that I need alcohol. Strong and good, no bitter aftertaste because I am a girl after all and I pretty much like sweet things. Yummeh. But I was looking through a number of blogs and just wodnering about the state of mind of all these people and the things that they do and the things that they say in correllation to what they do. It strikes me really. I mean yeah you can write really well but look at the Sarong Party Girl (who honestly has no looks and her body is far from desirable then again I have very very VERY high standards when it comes to girls and I'm just shitting myself either way) who is clearly unable to express herself verbally in person and instead makes use of the written word to try and make everything fancy by using big words that have no true reason to be there.

Agree? Even if you don't, I don't give a shit. HAHAHAHA!

But yes. I look at some kid's blog and I'm wondering. Holy shit is that what life is about to you? I mean is that ALL you think about? Don't you know that there are other things OUT THERE that are far more deserving of your time, energy, effort and attention? You have the monetary capabilities and yet you waste it all away on your frivilous little party trinkets from Gucci, Prada or LV. Ok fine mayhaps I sound bitter I'd want a LV luggage but hey, Roxy does fine for me too. In any case, WHAT HAS THE WORLD GONE TO?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH EVERYONE ONE?!

We've all turned into inch-deep shallow little fucks that it's pretty hilarious at times sitting in a conversation and realising that the only benefit it has is perhaps... none. But hey, I'm to blame too for engaging myself in such 'sinful' mediocrity. I be humble, I'm stupid like hell, timid like a mouse and have not an inkling of originality and creativity coursing through my veins.

I am going to stop writing in flowery languages because FUCK if there's even a point in it. Most times, now that I tell you in not-so-confidential confidence, I write in such language because I don't know what else to say and hence I expound the same words but through synonyms.

Pretty ain't it?

Now I will hunt down my coffee because I'm sick sick SICK of REDBULL and it's fucking up my system a heck lot more than normal. The main ethos for this rant or entry or whatever you may deem to call it is that I LIKE MY JOB BUT I WANT A BETTER (paying, well a salary hike to 4 digits is what everyone wants no?) JOB SO HELP ME IF I TEAR AT MY EYES AND LAMENT CEASELESSLY ABOUT IT!

Have I mentioned that I need alcohol? Yes. Wine? Beer? Fuck if I care.

Also, one final thing to note. If you want os badly to jam THEN FUCKING TAKE THE INITIATIVE TO ORGANISE IT YOU DUMBASS! I'm sorry that you work two days and then have two days off and sometimes you have to make time for another band everything else. But lookie here, there are some of us who actually have a proper job and who are chained to their desks because they have to finish everything before a particular date else they'll never hear the end of it from their superiors (aka, people who own their souls and dangle that carrot of a paycheck in front of their noses). YOU, clearly do not need to bring back work. YOU, clearly do not have to burn your weekends unnecessarily BECAUSE of work and I am SICK and TIRED of you dropping hints about some girl who this and that and this and that.

Not interested still means not interested. No way in hell unless you suddenly look like Brad Pitt or better yet, Edward Norton, would I ever be interested in you. GET THAT IN YOUR FUCKING HEAD and let's just have a professional band relationship.

Yes no? Awesome.

nothing in this world

A bunch of things we have all learnt from each other over the course of the past four days on Sentosa.

1. That the whole company more or less knows that I smoke.
2. That I know my editor smokes, occasionally.
3. Cameras make for good topic of conversations.
4. You can never and shouldn't even ever, judge a person by the cover of their book.
5. Not all athletes are friendly, the foreign kind at least.
6. Not all local athletes are friendly either (too damn atas if you ask me).
7. The Philippine babes who weren't even born there are damn fucking hawt.
8. Jimmy, the photographer, is cool.
9. This event has reaffirmed my dream and desire to join a PR company that manages sport events.

Yup. I wouldn't say that I'm burnt or baked or anything. Toasted, lightly, with a dusting of freckles and blemishes thanks to our sun. Note sarcasm. Everyone else save for the Art Director and me is at Sentosa packing up the stuff. I'm supposed to be doing work but I think I need coffee because I'm still pretty much tired.

Won't say exhausted. The team over at the beach is way way way more exhausted than I am. I truly salute them, for the amount of work and effort put in from start to finish.

Now I shall start reading Marketing books. I am the Product. I need to Market myself. I need to Sell myself to my Client.

Perhaps, in some sick twisted part, I just need to prove that I can be better than all of this. And that all of this is just what a mediocre and terribly shy girl is capable of.








To be gregarious, outspoken and not give a shit about what people think. To be assertive, demanding, confident. I need to start getting better at the things I do. I need to be fucking awesome.

Ahh yes. I think I need to drink soon.

till this time ends

It's finally over. I can finally rest, somewhat. Not that it's nothing new, since I keep mentioning it all the damn time BUT, I have been thinking again. A fork in the road. And it's more than just two paths. I think about the term 'moving on' and 'getting past it' and everything else and ask myself numerous questions. But then I realise that the more I brood about it and think about it, the more depressing it all seems.

Speaking of depression, entering some sort of melancholically morose phase. Which kinda sucks because I could be happy and laughing hysterically one moment and find myself feeling pretty much like shit the next. Ahhh the power and unpredictability of mood swings. Annoying really.

Now I am going to concuss and wake up and get to work on time tomorrow. Three articles this time round and each of them has to be awesome. By my standards. Else I'll have to start pulling fluffy white rabbits out of my ass.

And that, is an analogy and meant metaphorically.

i wish i could say the same

I am beginning to entertain the idea of questions. Of asking questions and making each of life's little turns and twists into a question. Maybe that'll help me get over the skittishness of talking to people and doing my work.

I suppose the ideal in anyone and everyone's life is to be able to be in the profession that you're passionate in. Be it art or finance or education. But so few people are given the opportunity to do so, to be able to pursue their passion and love in life. Just watching the girls playing volleyball made me wonder. I see the expressions and reactions on their faces. When they lose a match, they don't crumble and cry and throw tantrums or anything. Well of course they're professionals but they're almost completely different people on and off the court. With the exception of the Cubans because they kinda scare me and freak me out.

But everyone else, the Norwegians and Swedes and Australians and Brazilians (I'm not too sure about the Chinese because there's that whole language barrier thing which I've yet to figure out how to crack) and the Philippines (oh gawd they were so damn pretty and so damn nice too!) and everyone else. They're like one hugeass happy family. For some it's truly a profession, it's their bread and butter and they spend their whole lives perfecting their skills and honing it to a T. You watch them on the courts and as much as they curse and swear when they miss an opportunity or when the ball hits the net and lands back in their court or when they thought they scored a point but didn't, at the end of the game they shake hands, quench their thirsts and laugh and smile.

Why couldn't that be the same for us here? Why are we just so damn competitive, why do we crave to be better than the other person to always be one step ahead? Is it because of some Asian trait that's ingrained in each and everyone of us?

I want to be able to experience something like what these girls, these ladies do. To be damn good at my job, to have so much love and passion for it and to just have fun even as I'm doing it. To take the mistakes and learn from them and just cut everything off once the whistle's been blown and the ref signals to shake hands.

Why volleyball? What is it about the sport? Why do you look so happy playing it? How are you able to go back to normal after each game, whether you win or lose? What does it take to be a beach volleyball player? How does it feel to represent your country, to be their ambassador in a field that's unorthodox?

Hmm. I'm super frickin tired. Power nap time.

just a quick one

The shots and captions on the website are nice. Good job.

So says the boss and I feel happy. Little does he know that some of the shots belong to me. I didn't really like the shots from the guy we tried out today. Andre and Jimmy still rawk in the photography scene. I have a crush on Hakedal from Norway. She's so aggressive and cute and adorable and everything else!


Say hello to Nila Ann Hakedal!

The new guy took this shot. Was pretty dark. Anyway, Jimmy's coming down tomorrow and his shots are POWER! Gonna shower and concuss a little. PIRATES TONIGHT! GYARRR!

give it back to me

Well, I have a tan and it's uneven as hell. There's internet connection at Sentosa and I'm running around; shuffling between getting quotes from people, doing random interviews, watching the matches and getting scorched by the nice hot sun. Yay. Note the tone of sianified sarcasm. And yes, I brought my laptop because I have to upload pictures from the photographer's memory card, look at then, sort the nice ones out, do a little bit of touch up and put it on the FIVB website.

I got screwed by the editor for waking up late and reaching the event late. No more nonsense, he says. I'm going to steal the Redbull and stay awake all night. Or get someone to pour icy cold water on me to wake me up come tomorrow morning. Damn but I need a supremely cool shower. Hell, I don't mind just doing a quick one right now because I'm just sticky and icky and terribly uncomfortable.

Oh yeah. He knows that I smoke too and told me that I didn't have to be shy about it. Eeps. Work polo tee is hot. It's stifling and by god it makes me want to scream because it traps heat like how flypaper traps flies. I don't care if I'm not making sense. I'm still burping AK47s from last night and yeurgh, I'd take the graveyard anytime. Also, celebrated Shaikha's birthday at Zouk although she and the rest had to head home early because of work. Yeah la, me and my itchiness had to stay and club and get super high and then end up waking up late with 5 missed calls from the editor.

And yet I still feel like clubbing. What the hell is wrong with me?! Must enjoy la before I don't have the freedom to anymore.

Holy shit. My editor just asked for a stick from me. WTF?!

*****

Ok, that was all written in the day when I had the time to write nonsense down but didn't dare blog it up yet. It's been one hell of a day. The sun really does drain your body and make you fatigue. I'm amazed I'm still awake and able to type all of this down. Thank you blueandsilver Redbull, eventhough you taste as shit but are tenthousandtimes more potent than the Thai version. Speaking of Thai, or not, the Philippine volleyballers are hawt!

Everyone smokes. It is no kept secret in the office. The boss knows and so does the art director. They're all pretty cool and I think maybe tomorrow I'll have dinner with them. Bond a little la. I really admire them for working so hard and putting in a hella lot of effort to making the thing go smoothly. The only thing I can do on my part is ensure that the pictures selected are top quality and that I get as much information and data and quotes for the article as much as possible. Gonna make it one hella shebang!

Pototo parata is not parata at all. It's bloody masala in a prata. Not liking it one bit. In desperate times like these I actually do miss Niqqi's (ridiculously priced) special and all the memories it brings. Tomorrow, or rather later today, will wear a skirt down to sentosa because sometimes wearing shorts is just too damn restrictive and hot. AND NO COMPANY POLO TEE! At least not till the weekend. HOHOHO! And I will definitely wake up and be on time and everything else because even I'm disgusted by my own tardiness.

Improvement and change for the good and for the better!

And shit la, I will not club the night I have a super long and tiring field assignment because I will die. Horribly. And rely, extensively and heavily, on sugar to keep me moving.

It's about time for my shower and then I'm going to rightly concuss and have nice fluffy bunny dreams. Mmm. Bunnies. Also from tomorrow onwards, am gonna bring my camera and take some shots. Of the hot bods and the hot action and everything else. AWESOME!

revelations

Selective memory can be a bitch.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY SHAIKHA! I'll see you later tonight. ;D

Desperate times call for desperate measures. Reinvention takes priority over a lot of things. Anyway. Late again for meeting. I hate going down to schools. I'm leaving the notebook home. Fucking heavy sia.

rest well my friend

I never really knew who he was. I never really talked to him. I never really saw how he looked like. But he vanished and well... another star in the scene gone. Just like Paul. There's a strange kind of sorrow? Displaced and detached. Whilst some are still stunned by the news, the rest of the world still goes on.

R.I.P Wayne 'Thunder' Seah.

If we left our lives now, if we went back the way we came from. What could we have possibly done, what would people have said? Did we leave an impact? Did we make a mark? Did we touch any lives, make a change, start a revolution?

I've been dulled by monotony. Dulled by reality. I feel so jaded that it's a funny feeling be here, alive. What Vivian said was true. His and Paul's passing are a reminder that life shouldn't have been dulled that way. Appreciate what you have. Appreciate before it's gone. Or rather, before you go.

I'll plan something come Friday night. I've not seen la familia in eons and that's purely my fault. Now, there's no reason not to hang and chill with them.

I'm not afraid of death. I'm afraid of being forgotten. If I do nothing now, I'll end up forgotten. Like a memory.

the syndrome

Maybe it's just poor blood circulation on my part but my right hand hurts. That little nook between the middle finger and the ring finger. It's like, I can't seem to hold anything for long without the whole area going numb with pain. Selective carpal tunnel. How evil.

In anycase, I am the only one in the office. Literally. Even the Art Director is over at Sentosa. God knows what they're doing there. Last minute touches I suppose, hanging of banners and shit like that. Good that I have the office all to myself, no peeping over my shoulder to see if there's anyone catching me playing Bejewelled and random shocks when people come through the door.

Peace. For the time being.

So tomorrow is officially packed. From morning all the way till night. With luck I get to come in just a little later on Thursday. It'll be the qualifying rounds either way and I want to catch some sand action on the beach. That and rectify the ugly shitass tanline that I have. On body and feet.

There are times whereby solitude can be a blessing. A reprieve from this shitass noisy world that does nothing but make me despair. Then there are those times where I don't want to be alone and find any mean possible to surround myself with people. I think it's time to go on one of those short retreats, away from people and everything else.

The world is still stuck, at least my world. This level of bleak is about to reach an all-time high. So pardon me if I vanish for awhile. Would do me good. Damn it, all the more I can't wait for us to hit Bintan. If I had it my idealistic way, we'd be gone the weekend. Damn you reality! Seriously, damn you!

empty

Words cannot express how I feel.
How I've been feeling.
Wrenched apart, torn inside and pulled asunder.
The truth hurts doesn't it?
Now I look at myself and I think:
So pitiful. So utterly pathetic.
I've never felt more vulnerable, never felt so much without purpose.
I can claim myself to be everything else - cold, detached, aloof.
But I still feel, only that, I'm just hiding everything else.
I don't know who I am anymore.
I don't know anything anymore.
And the worst thing is that, if I don't, I'll never get out of this.

Everything else that I see, that I read and hear seem so trivial. They seem so... petty and childlike. Disgusted, disappointed and terribly disillusioned. Simplicity is merely ignorance. I don't know what to do.

I don't know what to do anymore.















I want to be able to put into words how I feel. I want to express this empty gaping hole within. I want to wake up with self-driven purpose and not walk around as this blank empty vessel.

It's morning and I need to sleep. I think it'll be awhile before I can finally blog something far more sensible and less mundane.

this is fame versus infamy

This is a new level of boredom. Playing almost every game imaginable on Popcap, Miniclip and even Yahoo. Don't get me wrong, I do work too. Just finished two articles and I'm thinking on how to get started for the next few. I can feel the hype for the FIVB already though it's a wonder why there're still so many tickets left. There's this temptation to grab one and the party tix. Ohhh I wanna party hard and party all night long and crash over at someone's place and head to work the next day.

Hoho. Any takers?

I don't know what else to say. My mind's been fixated on the future. Career prospects and everything else. Shaikha advised me to stay with the magazine for a year more before hopping on elsewhere. I'm looking at the criteria that other companies are offering. Account executives have terribly stressful lives, with no time (or rather, rarely enough) for their own social lives. Strangely enough, that's kinda my ideal. Work work work work, slog all day and all night and earn a nice hugeass paycheck. :D Yes, I've turned shallow and materialistic. Money's about the only think that makes me happy, sides, it makes the world go round too!

I am motivated by personal gratification and indulgence. Then again, who isn't right? Self-reflection is one of the worst things to be doing right now. To realise how utterly selfish, conceited and self-absorbed I've become. Some may call it denial; I'd call it nature. It's only human after all. Though you have to wonder if being so absorbed in yourself is a way of escaping from the harsher realities of the real world. I'm only talking nonsense here.

Things to do:
- editing of the shots used in the soccer article
- Oakley City writeup
- Oakley athlete profiling

Things to look forward to:
- RippleVox drinks session
- FIVB Swatch
- School Soccer Finals
- Rugby Finals
- Hockey Finals
- Daddy's birthday
- Shaikha's birthday (aka scandalwednesday)
- HOMECLUB!!!

Right. Now let's see if I'll be able to survive long enough.

double ssssssssssssssss

I am somewhat all alone in the office. And that's a good thing. Have tonnes of things to clear, work-wise. And I won't be so pressurised because the editor is sitting behind me. Suppose everyone is at Sentosa now, welcoming the first batch of players from all over the world. Either that or the airport.

It's been a tiring week. Got myself a pretty notebook/journal for random sketches and musings. I'm still stuck at level 5 of Bejewelled, which sucks. I know I can go beyond that just that... must be my eyes. All burnt and catacracted.

Can someone tell me again since when was not giving a shit about anything considered being defensive? Anyway, I thought there was such a thing as rabbit porn. As in literally, em fluffy rabbits doing the deed. But then, rabbit is another term for something else and I got something else so yeah. No furry animal porn.

Also Joanna, please do not kill me for sucking horribly, once again, on your test. HOW I KNOW SIA! Haha. I do realise that we know more about the mechanics of each other's minds as compared to the detailed factual history of our lives. And background and everything else. Because we love each other and it transcends everything else. Also, how is it that Marcus is able to score the highest as compared to the rest? STALKER!

Desirability. Attractiveness. And damn if collarbones still don't turn me on. AIIEEE! Sexla. I see too many kids (this is why the paedophillic tendencies arise) with sexyass collarbones and hipbones and I rue the fact that I have to be so much older than they. DAMN IT!

Ok. Time to take a nap. I had enough sleep, I just can't seem to rightly concentrate.

you now you wanna

Create your own Friend Test here

DO IT!

looking forward to the future

1. I'm quite chao ta. At least I feel like it. Hot sun. Hot hot heat. I WILL SAVE UP AND GET MYSELF A PAIR OF OAKLEYS!
2. I have an ugly shitass Havaianna tanline.
3. I will never again wear jeans to a morning athletic event. THE SUN KILLS!
4. I think I need to sleep but I'll be damned if I concuss now.
5. Now saidshitlocked person says that one of his random friends say that I look like a carebear. First a pig, then a monkey and now a carebear. IF YOU GOT NOTHING TO SAY THEN DON'T FUCKING SAY TO MAKE SMALL TALK LA YOU CHEEBYE!

Yeah. I am grumpy. Think I should nap. The heat makes one utterly irascible.

Infamy over fame. Sometimes we can be so viciously cruel to ourselves. Self-realisation hits an all-time high in the dead of the heat and madness of stark-opened pores and senseless chatter. Well, I did get to meet TheLonelyRunner which was pretty cool and interesting. Until my hair is of acceptable length, I'll keep it tied in this scrappy stump of a ponytail. Laugh all ye want, it makes the heat bearable.

I think it's hella safer to remain this way. Without the complications at least. With no strings, no ties and no additional attachment. Bintan is settled. PARTY ALL NIGHT LONG! About time.

One night and one more time. Thanks for the memories eventhough they weren't so great. See, (s)he tastes like you only sweeter.

over and over again

Putumayo music is the sex.



Yummeh. I have 6 Cs (combination of +-), 4Bs, 2As and 1D. HAHAHAHAHA! Awesome. I've no frickin clue how to calculate my GPA so fuck that. I'm gonna go enjoy some Latin music right now. Mmmsalsa.

Right, ought to prepare my stuff for tomorrow. Pullover, shorts, slippers and shades to hide the panda eyes. Damn. I'm still debating: to cut my hair or grow it out.

We'll see the plan tomorrow.

she really has nothing else to add

Perv level in the neighbourhood just upped. Fat old man in a Merc slowed by me, trailed me, wound down the window and tried to say something and then moved slowly off. He turned into the lane to Chris's house, slowed down and looked as if he was about to turn. But traffic got to him. I had to run in heels. They hurt. But I'm a sucker for vanity at times.

THE LETTER TO COLLECT THE &^#$*^$ING DEGREE CERT IS HERE!

First thing tomorrow, head down to MDIS, get my cert and transcript and laugh like a mad woman. And then... and then. Erm. Hmm. Now what do I do after that? OH! Better get PSP from my brother and sit at Starbucks and just... play. And smoke. Sweet. I've yet to finish Tales of Eternia. I hope he didn't delete it. I'll strangle him.

Happy that I finally got that fucking cert. We'll see how fucked up my GPA is. Stupid fucking callouses on my feet plus this throbbing pain at the side of my head. Am gonna crawl up into bed with my external and watch movies and then concuss. I HAVE NO WORK TOMORROW IF ONLY BECAUSE I HAVE TO BE AT SOME WEIRD ASS PLACE SUNDAY MORNING AT 7 AM.

Yeah. Damn fucked. Least I get to tan at the beach next week.

AND NO CHRIS I DO NOT LIKE OLD OLD LIKE REALY OLD AND FAT AND OMG EWWW MEN!

Done.

I love Bejewelled. I have nothing better to blog. Apart from the fact that Shaikha is my ultimate bimbo and I love her very the much. HAHA!

thanks for the memories tho

I'm trying really hard to be a sports writer. But I just can't seem to get the angles right. It isn't about reporting the game. Any other reporter can do that. I'm supposed to be able to see the game, see the sport or the event in a way that's different from everyone else. Produce something that hasn't already been reproduced by thousands others in every other publication circulating the island.

I'm trying. I just can't seem to get it. And the one thing I fear most is that at the end of it, instead of learning something I end up with nothing. Sometimes I can see it, that little sliver of an idea that I ferret out. But most times it's as if my mind's an utter blank and I find myself drawing circles every so often instead of coming up with something brilliant. That makes the readers want to flip through every page, back and again.

It's the words. Yes. But it's about the ideas, the logic, the schematics, that thing that I should be seeing that'll keep them glued to these slick CMYK-toned pages.

Fuck la. I'm getting more disappointed in myself with every article that I write. Terribly disillusioned. I thought a piece I wrote was good, by my standards. That it'd be something the editor would nod his head and tell me that yes, I got it. But when I re-read them, each and everyone one of them, I find myself frowning and cringing in embarassment and shame. Was this what I went to school for? To come up with crap and shit that even an untrained 11-year-old could do? Hell, even better than I would.

It's like singing.

And it feels as if I'm giving up. But I can't. I need to find it within myself, uncover this sight, this ability. I need to find someone, talk to someone who sees it, who can help me uncover it, who can help me master it. Yeah, and only in times like these I wish that maybe I was Sylar so I can rip the heads open of famed sports writers and see how everything ticks and clicks.

Sick.

Fatigue and erratic moodswings are not my friends.

Tonight I plan to forget the week's misery. Work misery. I have to be up at the near crack of dawn on Sunday and head down to catch some duathlon. There's still that inherent fear of talking to people, coming up to them and interviewing them. I don't know what to say. I don't want to say the same things that's been repeated and rehashed by every other journalist out there. I need something new. I need to get on that level, connect with them on a level that's not professional. Nor is it physical (for gutter-minded people out there). So much for having played sports.

I know nothing. I am nothing. And it's just so so so hard.

don't feel like it, not the least bit

I'm so sleepy. But playing this stupid game called Hammer Heads on Popcap sure woke me up. There's always the thrill of being caught playing games. Somehow I get this strange feeling the editor ain't really that happy with me. But what did I do? Been sending mails back and forth to the Original 6. Guess no meet up tonight lest we crash Shaikha's shindig at Wala.

Now... who else to call to chill and hang out? Hmm. Insaniquarium is INSANE! Senseless mouseclicking. I really don't know what to do right now. Editor is out at Sentosa and stupidJoel is heading over to Bali. Damn bastard.

Last night the big brother came by my area because he needed to head to the wharf. Picked up his stuff and we sat at the bus stop (this was after driving out of the wharf of course) and talked a bit. He's rather surprised that I've been single for quite a while now. Which only goes to show how 'well' he thinks of me. I grumble. I can remain single for as long as I want to. No, it is neither a need nor a necessity to be in a relationship. Also he mentioned that with the return of his two favourite army boys in June, we are all going for a drinking session and he aims to get me dropdeadwasted the night I turn 22.

How lovely. Though I am fortunate to have siblings such as these.

Boredom strikes and kills creativity.

Also, I've finished watching all of Heroes.

keeping out the trash

I restricted access to my blog. As yet, there are only four people who have access to it. That's of course, because I invited you in. The homies, my kindred soul and the turtle. Everyone else, uninvited, can go fuckoff.

I dislike Sylar. A lot. Took half day leave because I was really sick, ended up concussing and waking up to finish up episode 19. Thank god tomorrow is Thursday. One more day to the weekend. And then, another week of hell. I've not scheduled jamming with the boys in eons. I still feel... off. From Saturday I suppose. Just that things don't feel so right and good and proper anymore.

Insecure. Afraid. Terribly so.

Would love to post something nice up but I'm lazy. Also, I think I should invest in a 50mm lens and then a speedlight followed by tele-lens. Let's hope Msia has some nice reasonable priced ones!

I want to rent a chalet the week right before my birthday (after Phuket). Since I can't leave the country because I'll be broke by then, why not try something else eh?

one night

Forgive me if I sound the least bit ecstatic with regards to what I have to say.

WHY THE FUCK WOULD I GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOU BEING IN THE CHINK PAPERS?!

Seriously. Stop wasting my sms with your nonsense.

That said, the flu/cold/Niagaralike condition of my nose is making me cranky. Coupled with that time of the month and the arctic conditions of my office. I want to go home, take like a whole slab of Panadol and just concuss and wake up with clear nasal passages.

PLEASE!

If by 1330hours I still feel like shit, I'm throwing in the towel and calling the boss and telling him that I am about to die.

let the good times roll

Technically, I didn't really wake up late. I just took my own sweet time. Now thanks to the freezing climate in the office I'm going to fall sick. In fact, I already am. Sneezing mucus, sniffling the rest of my life away and feeling so stoned and lethargic. I am so going over to DG to SB to buy coffee. I NEED MY CAFFEINE (and nicotine) FIX!!!

My other number is back online. The phone is fucked up though.

Did I blog last night? I can't remember. It's come to a point where even my memory is being whacked to hell. Anyway. We DOTA-ed and BF2-ed. Stupid Lizard King keeps killing me and then the bastard nuked my vehicle AND HE'S MY TEAM LEADER! But it's all fun and games. Screaming "run back run back!" when the higher level scourge heroes started hitting us with their cheatish powerish might.

I think I might just re-install WC3 for the sake of DOTA and MD/TD.

Wah lau. That shithead just said my msn display pic makes me look like miss piggy. Right. And to retaliate would just make me seem so childish. Grar. As if you damn good looking like that. Nbccb.

My first Starbucks fix in a long time. Maybe I should just overdose on vitamin C and turn into an orange. Work turned me into a zombie. Flesh-eating, growling/groaning rotting walking carcass. Unfortunately, I'm not as mottledly cool yet, which is unfortunate.

Imran tells me that 3 days is the maximum to take a break from running. Today's the 4th day. Die. If I don't run, I'll turn back into the bedpotato and I'LL START SPROUTING ROOTS AND GOD KNOWS WHAT ELSE! Yes I know I amuse people with my utter insanity and sheer hilarity of randomness.

I will begin my project once FIVB is over. Woohoo! Sentosa next week and no office! Although I think I'd still have to bring my laptop along so that I can upload shite and type in nonsense and do work and the like. Look busy ya know.

Gary Jules's cover of Mad World has been on repeat. The dreams in which I'm dying are the best I ever had. Sums up my moment.

I don't need anything more than this. End.







P.S Please make plans to meet up with me before I vanish for 3 consecutive weekends. ♥

















FINAL RANDOMNESS COZ IM FUCKING SICK NOW!
Weird guy messaged me on Friendster. LIKE REALLY WEIRD. Wth. Didn't I set it private enough? All you see is my dumbass piggy face.

And I take it back. The new FOB album does not sound like that of a boyband.

utterly stoned

Watching Donnie Darko last night made me think a little about self-sacrifice. The only thing that I can come up with, simply, is that it's also about choice. You already know the outcome of your future, of your actions; so what do you do with the knowledge? I guess in some strange way, what Donnie was pretty admirable.

I used to think it was a dumb show, like hello? Man-sized rabbits for starters? Creepy looking one at that. Then it was just the whole B-grade feeling you get because it's a show that's not been glossed over by Hollywood special effects and rendering.

But that's the beauty of it all. That raw element that's so life-like, so relatable that it pulls you in. At the same time, you feel as if you're watching the show whilst being high on crack.

Still recovering from Saturday's utter embarassment. My back's not so wonky anymore. I had enough chocolate to keep me happy. I want moremoremore. Also, have realised that from this weekend onwards, I am packed. Don't know if its a good thing or a bad thing. The only time I'm going to be free during the weekends is right after I come back from Phuket.

I don't know what to blog about as of late. I've been thinking about how to budget though. If and when I get the fulltime job. I've been contemplating a lot of new purchases as well. Hohoho. And having enough sleep means you look better and not haggard and druggy-like. Did I mention my face got burnt? Yeah. Right upper part of my cheek. Blends well with blemishes. HAHA I'm so funny (in a lame way) that I could kill myself.

How do you explain when your mind and concentration is one blur mass after another. I haven't been able to pay full attention to a lot of things as of late. It's as if everything else around me is screaming for my attention. I'm watching people and it's as if they're liquid, their gestures and movements so deliberately slow. I think it's all just me. I could blame it on fatigue and exhaustion but I question myself, what is it exactly that I've done that's led me there?

The running? The travelling to so many different places because of work? The late-night hangouts? The bare hours of rest? If that's the case then I wouldn't be the only one suffering this. There'd be plenty others in the same predicament and yet, it just seems as if I'm caught in this alternate reality with no clue yet how to get home.

I feel like crawling back into my bed. Concussing for yet another day. I'm so tired and completely unmotivated to do work. But I have to. I lack inspiration. I think I need coffee. Good ol' Starbucks. Hmmm yes. I think I'm going to get me coffee.

therapy

Just a quick one.

Yesterday was embarassing as hell. My whole body aches. Am currently in an extremely bad mood. For a lot of things and for a lot of reasons. My tan, or what was left of it, got fucked again thanks to beach volleyball. Oh yes, I almost fell while turning the kettle off and I concussed the whole day of today before being nagged to get up and shower.

I still feel like concussing. 3 more episodes of Heroes before I'm done. Then there's the whole movie stash I got from Chris's comp. I never knew hibernating could be so therapeutic.

ice

How far longer can you keep everything inside, bottled up and not expect some form of explosion? I'll turn it to how long can I keep everything in, forget them and move on to the next. Forgetting is not necessarily a bad thing. Detachment and coldness scores even higher on the scale. I'm trying to think back though when all of this began, how it comes so second nature and why I don't feel any particular remorse.

Young Hiro is so fucking adorable!!! Crap. What is it with me and geeky boys?!

Strangely hungry, wondering if I should run or just skip it and head to the beach now to catch some sun before work. Hmm. Decisions decisions.

It's not that I refuse to let people in to my comfort zone. The mechanisms just swing down, on their own when they get to close. And after awhile when you think about it, that's a good thing. Why let your guard down, get yourself hurt and be forced to pick up the pieces and rebuild anew again?

There are times where I dislike being like this. Times where I wish it was normal, easier, less of a turmoil and stress. But then I think about everything else that's happened. Everything in the past, that hope and faith and utmost belief of making a better future and I realise;

I will not reduce myself to a snivelling fool. To be carried by words. To be led blindly. And to lose everything, everything that I've worked so hard to be able to maintain this sense of normalcy. Even despite the detachment. Even despite the coldness.

I won't.

bush fire

My hair is taking an eternity to grow. Currently, its in the unruly, uncontrollable and most-likely-to-catch-fire phase. Yes yes I know I keep telling this to other people. Patience is a virtue.

Done with Bleach 125. I will start having frequent but smaller meals if only to speed up this weightloss-musclegain process. R says that I'll look weird wiry. I'm not planning for wiry, I'm aiming for lean and toned.

Yummeh.

I'm dead bored and I wanna go drinking. Also today I woke up feeling as if I got run over by a truck; literal translation means: everyfuckinginch of my body hurts and aches. But as Dr Larry says, pain is the knowledge that your muscles/body is working/healing. Whichever it is. I have short-term memory.

IT'S THE WEEKEND! ♥

dont mess with me

Hello world. Slow addiction.

CW: 119lbs
GW: 110lbs
UGW: 95lbs

Go figure that one out. Waiting for my body to cool down. I take about 10mins to run 2km. If this were Napfa, I'd have to clear the 400m in under 2min to hit an old record. Yes yes, I know that's pretty bad timing. But hey, I've short legs. :$ Maybe I need to quicken my pace. And I think now I should just run Monday, Wednesday and Friday mornings. At least that's an accumulated 6km per week. Can la.

Anyway, I think we're sorta ready for Saturday. I need to memorise the new lines for Empty Vessels, Room of Apathy and Wallflower.

Feels damn shiok for a cold shower. Now I'm contemplating eating maggie. HAHA! So much for hitting that goal. Can one la. I've not eaten anything else today save for chicken rice so cut me some slack.

Now, to watch Heroes or concuss? I still have Bleach 125 and D Gray Man to watch. Decisions decisions.

somewhere over this damned rainbow

Couple of things to note about the day:

1. FUCKING DRAGGY!

2. Finishing the flyer, just one more part, pictures and I am done.

3. My internship ends in August, not September as I initially thought.

4. I DON'T NEED TO BRING THE STUPID HEAVY-ASS CAMERA ON SATURDAY!

5. I am going to run tonight. Chris, wanna run?

6. I am going to get a nice tan on Saturday, by hook or by crook. Which explains why I will be heading to the beach earlier to catch some rays before doing work.

7. I am going to be so damn broke. Again.

The citizens in the kingdom of Lin wishes you all a nice day, the weather outside is burningHOT so take extra care lest you sizzle like oil in a frying pan.

CIAO!

back to school

Wow, I never thought that INSEAD was actually a business school instead of some science research facility centre that looks like it came out of a B grade horror scifi flick. Hmm. And it's near my house too. BUT! Get this:

INSEAD is known to be one of the most selective business schools in the world, with an admission rate undisclosed but considered to be roughly 20% of the applicants.[citation needed] The Admissions Committee selects candidates from a pool of applicants on the basis of various qualities, including academic performance, career progress, interpersonal skills and leadership potential.

All applicants must hold a bachelor's degree or equivalent and are required to submit an application with detailed essays supporting their case, two recommendations, their Graduate Management Admission Test (GMAT) score and academic transcripts. The MBA participants' average GMAT score is currently 706 (class of July 2007).[citation needed] Applicants who successfully pass the initial screening process are invited to two separate interviews conducted by alumni over the world.

Crikey.

I've been thinking about this quite a lot as of late.

I want to go back to school. There are 2 options; JCU and SIM. JCU offers BA in Psychology as well as Masters in Guidance and Counselling. SIM offers a degree in Psychology with a base in Sociology. The BA in Counselling looks exactly like what I was planning to take after OKCU.

Just need to talk to my parents and get their thoughts. Somehow, I doubt I'll be able to further my studies. At least not at this point of time.

Why must tuition fees be so expensive?

Alternatively the plan is to work for 5 years, putting aside enough so I can fund my education and then getting out of the arts industry and working with schoolkids. It seems decent... at least to me.

Sigh.

life is about beating people up

For some strange reason, today I went to run at 7 in the morning. Last night after picking up a call, I concussed. My sister said I snored and she was tempted to kick me so that I'd shut up.

Was I really that tired? I don't remember much. It's the kind of sleep that grabs you suddenly and next thing you know you're like omg wtf what happened did someone snatch my body?!

But anyway, that's besides the point. Recently I was on MSN talking to a friend who was having some boy problems. Explained to her the whole concept of playing hard to get and to just ditch the fella if he's being a dumbass since games are pretty much a waste of time when you drag it for too long. Afterwhich, she said that I was an expert at being cold, aloof and detached.

For a moment my brain kinda froze, now was that a good thing or a bad thing? She claims its a compliment. Makes me re-think my current situation. Just recently I was told that I seem to have an emotional toll on a lot of people I meet. I sound like some walking disaster. Hey look, I'm the non-special-ability version of Peter Petrelli. He's pretty cute, in a semi-dorky-geeky-emo kinda way. Grimm says I have a thing for emo boys. Not true! I happen to like sporty athletic and geeky Google-yuppyish kinds as well!

Although I've been having difficulty meeting people from either category.

Now that most of my work's done, I've been handed a new project - designing the brochure/pamphlet for the FIVB. Apart from the fact that it's kinda cool to see 15,000 copies worth of my work in print; I have to face inFuckingDesign again. FUCK!

I have a creative block. I can barely design, barely string coherent literary sentences together and if you want to talk about vocal melody; that's pretty whacked as well. There are those random flashes of inspiration but when I wait for Adobe to load and when it finally does (people, Lin needs to get more memory and more ram), everythings gone. Poof. Just like that. Have you any idea how fucking frustrating that is?

Same goes for photography. I need a portfolio. I need to do fashion editorials. Something. ANYTHING.

Times like these, you feel like finding a punching bag or a deserving little brat and beating the shit out of him. Or her. Whichever. I don't care. I need a vacation. And finally, I can use my burnt weekend to escape to KL with the family.

Somehow, I'm not quite looking forward to it.

fester

Blogger ate up my entry.

Contemplating a shoot tomorrow. Been awhile since I held my own camera and took shots not related to work. Might be more of a chance in KL but eh, we'll see. Maybe I should sign up for one of em' photography courses.

Down to 5 more episodes of Heroes. Last one and I'll concuss. Enjoy the rest of my week before hell decides to fester.

just gotta say it all

Super early for work and the China lady just got in at 11 and I finished watching The Fix. Paramore's cover of My Hero is on perpetual repeat. Setlist for Saturday is like this:

5 Seconds
Empty Vessels
Pressure (Paramore Cover)
Room of Apathy
Faces in the Mirror
My Heart (Paramore Cover)
Wallflower

And he says that I sound like Daphne and its the high squeakyness all over again. Only difference is my lack of control over my voice. We blame it on fatigue and lethargy from the day's work.

Contemplating covering My Hero but Egan might probably die. Already the bugger is playing for 2 bands - Neverwhere and ThreeWayStreet. Ours is gonna be the first and third set of the night. For him, it's going to be back-to-back. Will buy him Redbull and chainsmoke all the way. As much as to hype ourselves up (and give false energy) and deaden the nerves.

My Saturday is officially burnt. Rip Curl Beach Volleyball in Sentosa and then gig later on at night.

When I think about it, we could even use this setlist for live gigs. Hint hint June 12th. So we're almost set. Only that I want to change Pressure to Emergency or My Heart to Emergency. Whaaaattt? I know its seriously overplayed but I love Emergency.

:$

My month till the 15th is also burnt. At least I won't be wasting so much time now watching Heroes. :D

just gotta say it all

Super early for work and the China lady just got in at 11 and I finished watching The Fix. Paramore's cover of My Hero is on perpetual repeat. Setlist for Saturday is like this:

5 Seconds
Empty Vessels
Pressure (Paramore Cover)
Room of Apathy
Faces in the Mirror
My Heart (Paramore Cover)
Wallflower

And he says that I sound like Daphne and its the high squeakyness all over again. Only difference is my lack of control over my voice. We blame it on fatigue and lethargy from the day's work.

Contemplating covering My Hero but Egan might probably die. Already the bugger is playing for 2 bands - Neverwhere and ThreeWayStreet. Ours is gonna be the first and third set of the night. For him, it's going to be back-to-back. Will buy him Redbull and chainsmoke all the way. As much as to hype ourselves up (and give false energy) and deaden the nerves.

My Saturday is officially burnt. Rip Curl Beach Volleyball in Sentosa and then gig later on at night.

When I think about it, we could even use this setlist for live gigs. Hint hint June 12th. So we're almost set. Only that I want to change Pressure to Emergency or My Heart to Emergency. Whaaaattt? I know its seriously overplayed but I love Emergency.

:$

My month till the 15th is also burnt. At least I won't be wasting so much time now watching Heroes. :D

absurdist theory

I had a very weird encounter on my way back. This black car basically drove in the wrong way. They stopped, two guys, asked me where the nearest ATM was. Next thing they, or rather the baldy beside the driver, said to come out and have coffee sometime. Then he wanted to get my number.

I just raised my eyebrow, said no thanks and 'beeped' my way in, not before letting one of my neighbours in as well. What the hell sia. Talk about weird. The one night I don't have company home and weird people appear out of nowhere.

So back to Heroes. Was a productive jam. Now it's a matter of pitching it to a live audience. Egan calls it vocal training and experience for me. I better level up! Haha!

I'm thinking preppy office wear tomorrow. Let's just hope the weather doesn't kill me first.

it could be

If being stupid is suddenly realising that you've left yourself to be extremely vulnerable and helpless, then by god, I am stupid. I watched 5 episodes of Heroes at work, actually concussed for awhile and am currently waiting for 6:15pm before I can head down to the Youthpark for acoustic.

Not easy to explain the epiphany of sheer utter stupidity because then I'd reveal too much.

Sometimes we wake up and too much time is swallowed and we don't rightly know where we are. There's all the confusion on faces, bewildered and puzzled and then we realise we're holding hands standing at the edge of a cliff. We're looking down and there's a desert beyond us. It spans far and wide, the tops of buildings covered in filmy grains of white sand.

I've been wrong but I've been waiting for you.

Sometimes, the bad guys get the better sweeter end of the deal and you wonder where has justice gone. Waking up can be a bitch sometimes. But we gotta do it. Else, we won't be where we are here. Right now.

And I'm still waiting.

she is everything i want

Last night the ex got his closure. He was talking about a conversation he had with his friends, about that one person in your life who really got to you. Like emotionally and psychologically and everything else. Guess who that person was?

The one question to ask, when he's at Death's door (although in this case unlikely since he's already asking me) was why?

but like why, you got me completely, like really everything, you had me by the finger man and i dont think there was or ever will be anybody else who could affect me the way you did. why as in what was wrong? as in why did it always turn to shit for us lah. now that im out of it, i completely get your point about how screwed up the relationship was. like missed out all the other important stuff lah. when shit hit the fan. i was entirely obsessed with changing you and i figured that was when things started to turn to shit .

It isn't funny nor strange how things work out. Somehow, you kinda figure out that they're about to turn that way. It's a good thing la. I don't want to lose friends anymore. Not over something that's common when you're still in secondary school. But it's my fault, at times, to have turned it into some high school drama. :X I'm still growing up!

I should just write chic lit and hope to strike it big as a local westernized fiction author and live the rest of my days sipping chocolate martinis by the poolside and hourlong runs on the beach. That, is life.

I don't know why I would want to fall back into love when I remember how terribly messed up and fucked up it was. Why exchange content and satisfaction now for something that fluctuates with as much regularity as my moodswings? Siao.

stab my back

Today's jam was ok I guess. I find that the initial theme for Room of Apathy has somehow gone offcourse. I guess change is necessary, just as long as I stick to it for gigs in time to come. Speaking of which, mentioned the 12th May acoustic set. Practising tomorrow after work and maybe once more before the day itself (hell, what about on the day itself haha!). Have decided that I'll go back to rollerblading. Egan was telling me about the Inline Hockey team that trains at Tampines. Figure I might try it out. Plus, there's use for my TK again.

It's been a tiring day but a rather uneventful and contented week. I like. I'll miss the homeboys when they vacation in Krabi. I only wish that I could come along too. But family comes first and it's been awhile since we went anywhere as a whole unit. My parents told me that when I leave for Phuket, they're going on holiday too. Aww, so sweet.

Still contemplating that weekend getaway to Bintan. But I need to find a secondary job to help with the finances. A bunch of things I need to get like lingerie and sports attire. Nike stores make me feel poor. 100bucks for a set of sports bra and shorts. And they were so pretty too!

As long as I run, I'll lose the mass then I'll just tone up whatever's left. Healthy lifestyle! And who dare says that you can't smoke before you run lest you be out of breath? I've proven that wrong!

On a less trivial note, I think I got called atas today. If only because I said that my future husband has to work in the financial sector and be stable to support me and my future family. Is that so wrong? I only want a comfortable life without the worries of owing people and places here and there. But I guess calling me that is a little immature because ultimately you only want what's best for yourself and for your future significant other (and kids, if I ever change my mind). Also, I want to be able to support my parents and ensure that my dad truly retires and does nothing but stay at home and watch tv and garden and tease my mom endlessly.

Now, would you consider that to be an elitist (I guess that's what 'atas' roughly translate to) thought? I agree it's superficial. I don't believe in marrying for love, I've mentioned before and I'll mention it again. I'm all up for arranged marriages.

Just gotta make sure he's cute, serious and funny all in one. :D

leeeeeeeeeerooooooooyyyyy

Watching 200pound Beauty made me wonder if changing everything physically, physiologically; would it make things better?

Age catches up. I think too much and worry for the future. Stability and security is the number one priority. I just need to settle on a topic and write as if my life depended on it. Temporary financial bliss and maybe even a short sabbatical.

I'm allowed to dream aren't I?

One more day before life rewinds itself and starts again where work piles up in kilobytes and the editor's naggy reminders in my inbox.

Sigh.

make a move

I think when you buy stuff to run, you feel compelled to run. Got my Nano an armband and ran 50 minutes. Got lost in my own neighbourhood. The only thing running through my mind was, whoa, this place has changed. Spend too much time outside that I forgot how beautiful the neighbourhood actually was. Did two laps, so that's roughly 20 minutes each.

Refreshed. Very very energized.

Got the right Ascience thingamajig as well. Finally. Can't believe I blew 30bucks already. GAH! But hey, the upside is that I'll be fit and have nice hair at the same time! Right. Talk about being utterly superficial.

Gonna see if K and her friends are up for beach volleyball or something. But before I shower and everything else, gonna catch Bleach 124. Apparently the DYL crew are gonna wage war tonight. To go, or not to go. But I feel so tempted to play DOTA leh.

Damn it.

the irony

I don't have much to say save for the fact that I need to do something about being punctual and on-time. GRAR!

Discipline. Beginning to lack it already. I am going to go home now and run for a good hour. Oh yeah, now I remember what I needed to get. That strap-thing for my Nano. There is this pair of Asics sneakers that I'm itching to get. But I don't wear sneakers on a regular basis!

Nevermind. No drinks tonight. I want to run and watch Wonder Girls again and contemplate what show to catch tomorrow before my movie vouchers expire. NYAR!

RUN BITCH RUN!

let your troubles fall behind you

I've missed my classmates. I did join Imran, Mike and Joanne for lunch at Suntec (which resulted in me reaching the office at 1400hours when I left at 1130hours. eep!). Fish & Co. Very jelak after awhile.

Life's slowing down, which is a good thing. I haven't had proper rest, the kind where you wake up the next morning feel utterly refreshed. Each day I keep needing to hit the snooze button three times and then drag myself to do some situps and pushups before I'm awake enough to shower. Depressing ain't it?

I'm itching for a late-night/morning run.

You know how it is when you write and you try to find that perfect line, that sums everything up. Without being overly flashy and glittery, just direct. Simple and succint. Straight to the point. Which is what I failed to do at least in this blog. Sivam's and Padhman's words come to mind ( I refuse to admit that Karlie may have said this):

A is for Accuracy.
B is for Brevity.
C is for Clarity.

I try to inject a part of me into the article, maybe I should just stick to reporting, because it seems hella easier as compared to writing features.

Met K and her friends for drinks at Timbre. Her friend was supposedly playing but I didn't stay long enough to check out his keyboard skills. It was a nice night. One of the guys doing the whole boxing thing has this terribly cute smile. I caught some shots of him with the company camera. The boss better not see it. It'd be far too embarrassing for me. Haha.

I guess we judge people too fast and too much. We base our perceptions of others based on what other people tell us. Then again, who's to say the one telling us all of these things are a credible source? I take back my imposed judgement of people before I even get to know them. I've wronged people too much, too subtly in my own head.

Change is the only constant. And now, I need to shower. Because as much as I smell of seduction, I'm all icky from the day's work. Tomorrow, SENTOSA! If only because of some ground-breaking press conference thingamajig. Do I still have to go back to the office after that?

I hope not. It has been shown, I have more inspiration and motivation when I'm at Starbucks sipping on hot cafe mocha and watching eyecandies as I scribble random jibberish on my notepad. Aye.

If only my passion brought me more money. I don't think I'd jump on to another ship so soon. We're at the start of something amazing and incredible. Today's talk with the editor as he sent me to Novena made me re-think my selfish greedy little desires.

Oh well. If all else fails, just find a rich husband lor. HAH!

Somehow, it feels like the weekend already. And technically, I guess it already is.