just a few things to note

Two funny things to note.

That a guy walked up to my table when I was at Macs, gave me this slip of paper with his name and number and said that he wanted to get to know me. I nearly choked on my fries and Coke.

The second thing. Whilst walking on the overhead to get across the road, some kid called out to me and asked me what the time was. And I clearly don't have/own a watch (it is something I need to get when I cash in my pay).

Not my type at all.

Now the best thing is that my girlfriend's boyfriend is taking part in a dragonboat race tomorrow. I didn't know about it. Have already scoured the internet for happenings all of this month. She passes me the link, I click and scroll down to find a contact person and what do I see?

Official Sponsor: S****Mag

AND I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT IT!















Maybe I ought to give my editor a beep. Screw the biathlons. I think dragonboat races are pretty fun. Anyway, tomorrow I have a sorta business meeting. After meeting up with Rui (finally) and telling him about Mattoria's current situation, he's actually willing to draw a business plan and offer to be like the capital venture. Or something. I don't know what la because I'm a mass commer and I know nuts about business. So will be meeting him tomorrow to discuss and see if its still viable. Course, am gonna change the name. To what? I've no clear idea yet. Definitely not Mattoria. Not ever again.

I realise that sometimes apart from meeting the rest of the world, I'd choose to meet up with people who're close to me. Which is kinda duh. Like the homeboys for example. Because somehow just being around them, though I'm not engaged in their conversations (as in active talking participant), just soothes me. I feel at peace, a strange sense of calm and tranquility. Is that odd? Does anyone else experience such a thing? Hmmm.

I was gonna say something but thought the better of it because it just sounds so petty and bitter. I should sleep soon. Right after I've washed my face and packed my bag.






P.S New dress and new shoes. I couldn't help but go on a short little retail therapy spree during break. :X SORRY!

jealousy, such an evil thing

Well, I've got two pages worth of information done. Two pages out of 60plus. Nonetheless, it's something and InDesign torments me no more. Just that trying to figure out something and manipulate it with all the yet-to-be-familiar-with controls and the like are killing me. Again more Redbull to consume and Akon whining in my ear. Already Rui's CD mix in the car last night made me want to hop on over to Dbl O and dance. But restraint is essential and plus, if I did go clubbing, I wouldn't have even woken on time for work.

Speaking of which, I need to stop taking cabs down. Seriously unhealthy. For my wallet that is. And the nicotine and tar content in my Dunhills are beginning to have an effect. About damn time too.

Sometimes, the bad feeling gets stronger and harder to ignore. It's like alarm bells ringing in my head. Klaxon bells. Red lights, red flags popping all over. Technically I could ignore it. But then it'd be repeating the same mistake again and I don't think at this time and age, I could afford that.

After awhile, staring and disciplining myself into doing work, I reckon its pretty ok for someone who knows nuts about InDesign. Just that its pretty tedious since I've yet to master and commit the shortcuts to memory.

Anyway, I've been writing too much. Some pictures for your general amusement. I've gotten my namecards and instead of just a mere journalist, I'm a photojournalist. Note, that they're actually two completely different things.

Also, you will see the Dunhills that cost me 200dollars. Grar.






Say hello to my namecard! I've a 100 of these buggers!

the bold and infinitely daring

So I sat behind the counter at WMU whilst ThreeWayStreet jammed in the studio. Blasting Paramore and staring at my Microsoft Word, contemplating just how in the world was I to write golf. I can remember the game vividly, but putting something that's felt and experienced with the visual and aural senses is often so hard to be translated back into more words. More so when your editor says that the piece should invoke the same emotions in the readers.

How like that sia? Anyway, my parents are back from their trip and claims that they miss me so. Aww. I'll head back right after I finish a good portion of the article. That'll leave me with a bit before sending it to the boss for the edits. Then what's left is just editing the pages.

Stress.

My brother put Heroes in my PSP. Fine. I'll admit that it's nice. Portable too. Something to watch when I'm making the long trek from here to there. There's just too many things on my mind. I've roughly gotten about 65% of the Masters done. Things just seem a bit weird idgy (yes, there is NO true meaning to the word, refer to my dictionary which I'll put sometime never).

Finally met up with Rui after 14 long months. I really am sorry for not contacting, for not saying a hello and for being such a shit friend. Thanks a lot for the ride to Queenstown and the amazing company. And also, to be the fourth man to hunt youknowwhat down. ;P

I hope you're ok. I hope you're alright. And I hope that at the end of this long night, things will turn out fine.








I was going to write something about love. How it is a concept generated rather than a notion of emotion and feeling. But then I got tired and my brain shut down and I began to worry, once again, the workload I'll be facing tomorrow. It's going to be one hell of a long weekend and I want nothing more than a nice vacation. I think I'm growing old. Even sitting down and talking tires me.

Oh yes. Now I remembered what I wanted to say. I hate people spreading things. I hate rumours. Fine, hypocrite. I thrive on gossip. Actually, I don't. As of late, I've found the joy and beauty in downing 1dollar Redbull (the kopitiam is a RIPOFF) and staring at my computer screen looking at static lines. But seriously, just because you're perpetually seen with someone or that you're dating someone does not automatically mean that you're with someone.

So please. I appreciate if you don't go around telling people that. Random people or people whom you barely know. Because as much as I don't give a shit, you're making trouble for my friend as well.

And dear all, I have opened the pack that cost me 200bucks. I have smoked about 50dollars worth. HAHA! And I didn't realise it until Rui pointed it out to me. Its contents, are twice that of Marlboro Menthol Lights, and this is Dunhill Menthol Lights liaoz.

Shite. So lian. Okok. I'm going to stone a little bit moreand clean up the living room and watch a bit more Heroes and then turn in for the night. I'll be lucky if I even wake up on time tomorrow.

help help i'm drowning

I am like some random ah pek sitting in the office cross-legged on my chair. Not only that, I am wearing a dress. Sometimes stress is really good that it motivates you to want to make sure everything is complete and done. (We're behind time at the moment.) And sometimes it turns you into a psychotic rambling nut. Which honestly, isn't very good.

InDesign will either kill me or save me. User-friendly my ass. I should have read the manuals or tutorials but knowing me, I damn smart what. *rolls eyes* But I'm slowly getting the hang of it. Even despite my IQ dropping over the past couple of days thanks to wackjob conversations and hangouts. Haha. I kid I kid.

Anyway, my June get-away has been confirmed. The whole company is going over and since it's happening in the third week of June, Neverwhere can't gig. That's fine. Just a little later. July sounds mighty damn fine too. Right before Baybeats. Mmhmm.

The truth is that today, I reached work at 12:30pm. My grandma needed to be sent to the doc but I woke up at 10. I know I know. Bad girl. Bad bad girl. :( I had nice chicken briyani at the stall near my house, read a bit of my novel before heading off to work. A nice lazy Thursday morning was all I needed. It was a good time to sort out stuff in my head and to figure out my plan for the next couple of days.

I'm kinda swamped with work. So no multiple entries in awhile. InDesign, you're supposed to save me. Not murder me!

damn it

Well now isn't it an irony. I get contacted by RippleVox. Something about photography. Pity I'm working now and have I mentioned it's really crunch time? Yes.

The coversation about communication and connection coupled with first impressions kinda stuck in my head the whole of today. For a moment, I thought I was settling back into the past. All those rules, all those laws. Then I realise, fuck that. Perhaps we're just different people. Perhaps it's simply unfortunate that things are like that. Either I'm turning jaded and skeptical at a far more alarming rate or someone's taken control of my body and my mind and playing me like a puppet.

My brain apparently doesn't see well beyond the preliminary stages before making a decision and hence I'm actually quite stupid because I'd have only put two and two pretty much later. Can we say slow? Yes. I'm not making sense. The sheer irony and stupidity of recent events playing in my head is beginning to annoy the crankyshit out of me.

Scarred, mud-stained and everything else. Oh that we look for solace in places with cobwebs that need to be brushed. We rejoice in finding parallels to our existence only to bitterly stab the mirror because it is nothing more than the reflection.

Analysing all of this, in a detached manner I used to not possess, makes me cringe in utter disgust and embarrassment. Crikey. I seriously need to be shot. Shot. Like bang bang MP5 please. Thankyouverymuch.

the last laugh

Because love cannot be explained she said.

And this was in response to why she kept continuing the sport, even when she told herself numerous times that she'd stop. She's right you know. Love can't be explained. Why you do things because of love, why you're willing to do things, go through such extents and the like.

Someday, someone's gonna find the true definition to it and shove it into the faces of all the love-stricken fools on this planet. Then we'll see who gets the last laugh.

HAH!

it just could be

It's ok. I know for a fact how badly I fucked my layout up. See see!

When I'm free-er, I'll fix it up. Till then. I actually do like the girl on the left. And I've not forgotten my CSS! :D

Jam on Friday. Dinner appointment tomorrow. Work and gig on Saturday. Another gig on Sunday. Sweet.

chemicals and romance

I can't design. Even something remotely simple, something that I was so used and accustomed to. I've lost it. Completely. How the hell am I ever going to redeem myself?

The reason why I've not touched photoshop for so long was because I simply lost it. And it's not a result of exhaustion or mental fatigue. Just that I've lost the groove. I don't design particularly well, I can't draw for peanuts. Everything that I've learnt and that I know of is something a 14-year old could come up with, provided he or she spends a great portion of their lives online staring at a 12" screen.

Type, highlight, delete. There are a lot of things I could say with regards to some people I know. But we know, one thing definitely, that there isn't a point in saying anything because it solves nothing. We can only grit our teeth and smile, as fake and as forced as we can, because sometimes some people need anvils to be smashed on their thick skulls before they even realise nor register anything out of their own realm of deluded fantasy.

I am not excluded.

Please remind me and nudge me from time to time if I'm caught in a world of my own. It's a bitch to keep shooting yourself in the foot. A damn bitch.

number 13 looks like you

Ladies and gentlemen, this is pretty much the crunch time. The magazine is slated to go to the printers this weekend and everything's in a mad flurry and rush. Calling for photoshoots and article submissions. Pictures to be processed (CMYK pls) and articles to be edited and re-edited and you get the picture.

I guess I've found a slant for the NUS Biathlon thing. Pays at times to read the background history on the event. Not that it matters and that I give a shit but the article needs it. And better that than some slipshod first-hand account of something that was honestly, boring.

My mood swings from one extreme to another which could be potentially scary if I was the sort to prance around wielding kitchen knives. Ergh. Didn't I mention before that I seriously needed to organize my time better? Yup. Sometimes I hate the unfortunate bastards and bitches who get it so easy. Without so much as lifting their finger or needing to sacrifice anything at all, they get what they want. But you turn the mirror back at me and you could possibly say the same things. So the question comes that mayhaps they appear to be fortunate (and sometimes even ungrateful) fuckers so nonchalant on the outside but what if they're all troubled and tormented on the inside? The analogy of two sides to a coin. But still, it doesn't mean that we (poor, pitiful and pathetic lowlife commoners that we are) don't have the right still to want to gouge their eyeballs out.

I'm attributing this angst and derailed train of thought to work stress. I'm not a huge fan of deadlines, I know they work really well in ensuring you get the job done. But at the same time, it amplifies the amount of things that need to be done. Hence, scary and terrifying and everything else. But at least now I've gotten a paragraph up. Just a bit more to go and I can start focussing on the Singapore Masters.

Whilst we sat down during lunch and talked about current affairs, I started to question how transparent was the media and the government with its people. We take if for granted that what we read about countries outside of our own cocooned island for granted. War and strife, chaos and suffering so eminent elsewhere. We seem apathetic about it, is it only because they're happening there and not here? For the matter, how much do we truly know of things happening to us? Things that are going on and around in the country?

We're only concerned with the hike in GST, we're concerned about the hike in transportation fees. Notice how a lot of things revolve around money? It saddens me to think that we're possibly a nation filled with dollar-signed oblivious skeptics. Or not even skeptics. We're just oblivious. Or on my level, around the people I hang out with, none of these would make into dinner-time topics of conversation.

'How are you doing?'
'How's work like?'
'How much are you getting paid?'
'Is your boyfriend/girlfriend still treating you like shit?'

But then there's nothing that can be helped with regards to that. To brood excessively over things not within our control labels us as being overly dramatic. And yet when we focus so much on ourselves we're self-absorbed and egocentric.

The point. The fulcrum. Where is that? What is enough? What is balance?

I think I'm beginning to think too much of things that I shouldn't even bother thinking about. Quite true. Not that any of this is going to be of value anyway. Argh. I'm just typing to stay awake.

But seriously though, how?























(Much later)
We live for little breaths of life at each time. Such as, my editor telling me that I've vastly improved in the most recent submission. More colour, more words and more impact.

There is still that niggling problem of putting names and faces instead of just shadows and vague figures.

I'll learn. I will.

i want my redbull

There are shit people to deal with and then there are even shittier people to deal with. This system of organization is seriously fucked up. Not here. Just there and everywhere else. It's amazing people still manage to function. And for crying out loud, at least inform us on your website that you're closed on Mondays.

Sheesh. You'd have thought about being customer/contact/client-friendly. We don't all read minds.

45 minutes late into the office and fortunately the editor isn't in. But he calls to inform me that instead of today, the shoot will be tomorrow and the young girl needs a bit of makeup to liven up the pressure lines off her face. Sometimes I pity all these young stars but then again, they get paid three times more than I do so why be all nice and sympathetic.

You can see I woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. I need to head down and buy myself a nice can of Redbull or Coke and get on that trippy sugar-rush. Prior to the phonecall which started off this whole mess, I was actually thinking of life. In general. Everyone thinks about life. It's become a stale century-old monologue that never tires and never ends. Why do we even talk about it? Because there's nothing else left to show?

Perhaps.

Each time I'm about to feel sad, I think about what Adik told me a long time before. That we owe ourselves our own happiness and that we're responsible for us being happy. So the things that I do now that put a smile on my face and drive into hysterics is all of my own doing. No one was trying to make me laugh, by being themselves I laughed on my own and erm yeah I think I kinda lost you there.









Maybe I do need that drink. And I need a harder one by the time this week is over. I've wondered why is it easier to click with others and just not with some. I'm so tired of pretending to be nice and friendly when deep down inside I couldn't give less of a fuck. No, seriously. I'm beginning to realise the importance of just sticking with the people who mean and matter to you. Because they're the ones who've got your back or at least, are far more dependable than the dumbasses lurking the planet.

Why am I nice to people? Why why why? There's this tendency to just want to shut up, act all smug and aloof and piss the shit out of people. But I can't. Because I actually do like being nice and ARGH it's a dilemma.

I'll shut up. This isn't making sense.

Yes Joanna, we over-think too much. But eh, it's only natural and it's what makes the coffee taste sweeter. No? :D

special

You have to forgive me. Sometimes my brain takes leave and I don't know why the hell I feel a certain way when there's no rhyme nor reason whatever to feel that way. Get it?

I miss listening to Better Than Ezra. Funny that it should be the band that cheers me up, considering what happened the last time I listened to it. Hmm.

Thank you.

Some are special.
They come back, racing through your mind.
You were special.
Your light, your heat
Will never die.















Definitely.

too stoned and nintendo

I expected pain. The kind that struck deep and raw, twisted itself like a serrated blade and then got yanked out leaving you in the gasping wake of breathlessness and agony.

What I got instead, was a strange hollow numbness followed by rather disturbing mental images. A voice spoke in my head so much for being special and I kicked myself (mentally of course) for having even thought about it. What good is there to dwell on a bridge that's burning and crumbling into the sea? Obviously none.

Nonetheless the knowledge unsettled me and left me a tad bit reserved and quiet for the final leg of the night.

I try to placate myself, that it's only because people either change or they stay the same. But even staying the same is difficult enough, maybe we have changed and maybe we are different. We don't see it but the subtleties in mannerisms and words speak a lot for others outside of ourselves to take note of.

At first, I wished for anything but that. But as the night wore on and music a comfortable hum in my mind, I realised how relieved I was that that particular nightmare was over. I could seriously only feel bitter regret for not having done it sooner. The burning of bridges part at least.

Still getting ribbed over my 200dollar pack of cigarettes. I saw it in my backpack, tempted to open it and then remembered the monetary agony it caused me. Grar. I think I'm not stressed enough, since my appetite has actually returned and whatever I lost appears to be coming back. Yes yes, scowl at me for my incessant grouses of weight gain and loss and whatever. I'm allowed to be superficial and shallow. From time to time.

While some say that the state of your room reflects the state of your life, I don't think so. I may be a tad bit disorganised at times but I do get the work done. Ok FINE I take awhile to get the work done. And if all else fails to cheer me up, nothing more than to think about American Hi-Fi's Flavour of the Week.

I think I need a financial advisor. This is too much man. Just way too much.

Just two more articles girl. JIAYOU!

you're embarassing yourself

Yes. I am that bored. BUT! I finished an article and have mailed it over to the Editor. Who is, by the way, not in the office. Can you see the super huge grin on my otherwise idiotically geeky face?

Yes. Course you can. I shove it in your face all the time.

So I have 2 design projects, both of which are due this week as well as 2 articles. ALSO due this week. Brilliant ain't I? Not much events, just a hell lot of meetings to attend and smile and pretend to know what the hell is going on. I don't understand golf. As in, I still don't understand it. All the overs and the sixes and the whatever-you-call-it. Yes Egan, you need to help me with that.

Upside though, chillout sessions tomorrow and the impending meetup with Imran the CB and Shaikha the bimbo. I've to meet the other bimbo and the queen really soon too. My feet's all cold and tingly and I'm just itching to leave here and see M12!!!

Brings back memories. In fact, if the Brother was there, it WOULD bring back memories. On a random note, I smell fruity like flowers. The work of Victoria Secret's. Mmm.

Right, I'm not making sense. MARC, AHMAD, CHRIS WHERE ARE YOU GUYS?!?!?!

See, I miss you all already. :(

And if you do get the link to my blog, hello mister i hire young boys to masquerade as me and design my work!













I ought to get shot.

the hilarity ensues

Allow me to humour you, that this is what I do sometimes at work when the editor is away. Of course la, I just need a lil shuteye to get my brain back on track. M1 Asia HERE I COME!!!



















The hilarity that ensued in JB. Prior to me getting fined. I HAVE MY TAX RECEIPT AND NO ONE IS GOING TO SMOKE MY DUNHILLS DAMN IT!

My phone is just damn cool and funny la. We had good food. I still prefer the Mee Bandung over at Beach Road. The sheesha, now that was incredible. Incredibly cheap!!!

I've been having a lot of these :)-ish moments. Course, never said it was a bad thing.

















You know damn right what an utter camwhore I am. Last shot was taken when me and Egan was chilling and talking random cock. Now in there, the Chinese blood rears its head. Ok. I'm gonna be a good girl and go back to work now.

sexploitation

As usual, I come in late for work for about 45 minutes. Nothing new really. This time there's an onslaught of things to do and I've yet to figure out the angle I'm planning to cut for the Singapore Masters. What's on the list this time round is the M1 Asia Challenge, the NUS Biathlon, Shooting and the Singapore Masters that ended yesterday. Quite amazing indeed and I felt sad for Mardan Mamat for the pressure instead of encouragement and support that was placed on him by both the media and the people.

But it's all over and all that's left is ecthing down, as a scribe would, the glorious details of a China man's win and the ever-cute media darling; Nick Dougherty. Sigh.

Ok. Just had a talk with the editor and this is my plan for the week:

1. Singapore Masters
This while take me awhile because I wanna craft it well. And also because it's debunked my stereotype of golf. Ok... and maybe because of Nick Dougherty (who I just learnt from one of the media releases, is attached). But who cares. He's cute and adorable and his caddy reminds me a LOT of the guy who acted as Silas in the Da Vinci Code. So yes.

2. M1 Asia Challenge
High-profile adventure race. Loads of pictures. Reasonable amount of entertainment value. Must stop writing in first person and go towards a more holistic approach.

3. NUS Biathlon
Pictures, pictures and more pictures and a short write-up. Yep.

So that's about it. The 2nd is due this Wedneday (so this means I'm gonna be busy proper this week) and everything else has to be completed by the end of the week. Shiok? Fucking power man! And also, last night whilst cutting my mom's belated birthday cake, my brother told her that he had a friend who was in the same line of work as I was and who always ended late. :) That ought to keep her quiet with regards to my odd returns to the home.

By the end of this week, I deserve a good chillout lepak session with some homies and a nice drink. Strong alcohol and beer ain't my poison. So sorry but I'm a girl that way.

Now I feel more motivated to do work. Male-dominated my ass and I should really start investing in pretty sundresses. Catch them offguard and use the charms and assets god blessed you with. ;)

between you, me and the lamp post

I basically had a crap beginning to the day. I seriously need to loosen my tongue because I have questions to ask, questions that need to be answered and put into the magazine, but I'm too much of a wuss to even lift my hand during press conferences. Lin Lin, this cannot do. You need to be braver and have thicker skin. Then perhaps, the others will start to respect you.

It's a dirty line, a dirty world and to get to the top, you gotta start playing dirty too.

This is what the real world is like. Dog eat dog, man fight man. Like war, like the Spartans. But Spartans are elite and have hot bodies and that's just besides the point. Now I have an uneven tanline thanks to the polo tee I wore. Should have just bothered with a tank top then at least it wouldn't have been so bad. The photographer was nice enough to give me a lift back to the MRT station. Physics teacher with a passion for cameras, photography and formula 1 racing. Hahaha. I like some of the shots he took, they're really crisp and clear and OMG Nick Dougherty is cute la!

Anyway, my night ended off really sweet and well. :) Thank you. I slept all the way from Tanah Merah to Queenstown (we have a new song!!!) and when I woke up the guys who were sitting beside me tried to strike up a conversation. I didn't mention that when I sat down in the train and they plonked themselves beside me, they reeked of alcohol. Beer. And they definitely didn't sound local. *shrugs*

This is just a rough replay of how the conversation went. I can't remember much because I was pretty much drowsy and grogged up from sleep.

Stranger: You going home?
Me: Yeah.
Stranger: Are you Singaporean?
Me: Yeah.
Stranger: What do you work as?
Me: Reporter.
Stranger: You think I am Singaporean?
Me: Err, don't know.
Stranger: Where is your house?
Me: Queenstown.
Stranger: You can still sleep, I call you when your stop arrives.
Me: Err no thanks, it's my stop already.

And the MRT was HOT! As in was the air-con dead or something? Ergh, it intensified the stench of alcohol and drove me nuts. Had to use the press release to fan myself to remain sane. Thank god for mp3players and music and being so friggin exhausted that I conked out the whole length of the journey. Talk about weird la. Why do I keep attracting weirdos? Seriously? No offence to Mister Gamer. Not you la. As in these random people I actually see, literally.

I was quite worried that I wasn't cut out for this job. I didn't know what to write, I didn't know what to ask and I didn't know how to approach the people I should be talking to. When he said it was a steep learning curve, it was. If I was braver, if I had more courage, if I had thicker skin; I would have been acing every article I was slated to write. As it stands now, I'm just worried that my editor wil be disappointed because he saw something in me. Some potential skill and talent that was just waiting to be harnessed and chanelled.

Sigh.

Ho well. Tomorrow I'll figure out something. Tomorrow I'll head down to catch Marchtwelve after work. Rush down because their set is at 1830hours. Have a good smoke, with good music and good food totalled with good company. What more can I ask for to end my day with? :)

Can't wait for Neverwhere to jam again. This time, where we can hear ourselves clearly. Incubus is beginning to sneak itself up into my songwriting. Brandon Boyd, you have no idea how much I admire and idolise you. Erm, but not in a psychotically stalkerish way of course. :D

And here's a nice pic of Nick for you.


Damn cute right?!?!?!?!?!

give me your name

Somehow, the idea of complete organization tires me. The mere thought of intense planning and following strictly to the rules and lines and laws and everything else. Ergh. To live and lead the rest of my life according to something already preordained. A tad bit boring ain't it?

I'll open up my social calendar to coffee and gatherings. An old friend plans to catch up with lost time sometime this week and it'll be good, to mend broken/burnt bridges that were forced to blaze thanks to some series of events.

I'd like to dream of Spartans. I think Romanians are kinda hot, if not, cute. I will stop fangirling and swooning over David Wenham (yes, I found his name and OMG, maybe I'll watch LoTR again). You have to admit, even for a guy who's 20 years my senior, he is seriously dashing. It's not the startling and outrageously in-your-face kinda good looks. Subtle, suave and makes you wonder whether he's a boy, a man or something in between.

Though from the looks of 300, he definitely isn't a boy.

Alright. 15 minutes to get ready and leave. Hooked to The Poet by Michael Connely. I should go back to reading chiclit really soon. Hanging out with guys all the time (which makes me wonder, where have all my girlfriends gone?) kinda rubs some of their male masculine (idiotic and lame) off you.

But then again, do I really care about that? Naw.

what goes around comes around

Today I got fined 200bucks for bringing in an unopened pack of Dunhill's into Singapore. I made friends with uncles who kena the same thing and got hit on by the guys inputing my details and settling my fine. And I actually laughed while all of this was happening, because it was just too damn hilarious. Kinda suay huh?

300 was awesome. I AM A SPARTAN! The fight scenes made me cringe, the blood and the splatter. Slow-motion as the blade drives itself into flesh and cuts through bone. Leonidas, you truly are king. And your queen has got the gots. Yes, I agree. That only real women give birth to Spartans. Men with valour, honour and loyalty. And the storyteller who then led on to march the 10,000 strong army of Spartans, you're so damn hot I want to lick the sweat off your torso because you turn me on. ;)

I have to manage my money wisely for the moment. Haha. The only thing to cry about is the fine. Damn it! I owe my big brother big time for helping me out. Life is fine other than that. My mom's complaining that I'm never home. Course I don't tell her that I actually do have off days, just that I don't want to spend it home. I can't wait for Neverwhere's debut. I guess I'll have to give FireFight a miss tomorrow.

More new songs please. Cartel and Augustana on the playlist now. I'll post up stupid random photos later on. I need to shower and figure out my schedule for tomorrow. I was late to meet the guys today. :X May this be a learning experience for me and that I will not repeat it again. 200 not cheap balls.

Woooo Justin Timberlake. I like that song. What Goes Around Comes Around. Tomorrow I'll settle out the space on my harddisk. Tonight, I just wanna charge my player and add in new songs. Farewell to old emo songs. Like how I told the gnarly treant:

If and when you wanna change, you do it hardcore. Haircut, new number, everything.

Because this is my life. This is how I'm gonna lead it, this is how I'm gonna live it and this is how I'm gonna run it. No one else has the right, no one else can take that way from me.

Damn but I need to clean the room too. Gah!