Monday, June 23, 2008

tainted texts

Two hilarious texts received when under the influence from similarly influenced friends at MOS:

Friend #1: Where are you?
Me: At MOS! Come!
Friend #1: Message me the address man!!!!

and..

Friend #2: Where you?
Me: Which room are you in?
Friend #2: Touch my body!

okkkk! cracking up.

Sunday, June 22, 2008

a little strange

A post I wrote when drunk ages ago (about 2 years). Only just discovered the draft. I have no idea what brought this on. I really am quite the drama queen.
Alliances forms, cliques materialize and then you feel completely left out. Then you engage in the same behaviour. Your lifestyle with them becomes a vicious cycle of furtive behaviours, non-existent eye contact, fake smiles and forced laughter.
The fuck up that is rationalization. The fuck up that is hypocrisy. The fuck up that are opinions not felt but manufactured. The fuck up that is condescension. The fuck up of half-measures. The fuck up of always asking someone to be honest. The fuck up that are excuses conveniently made to justify a friendship breakdown.
Unrequited love is agony they say, but only natural. Unrequited friendship, is inexcusable.
So why does anybody bother? Because sometimes it's worth saving and sometimes it's not. I think I have realized what's not.

We Need to Talk About Kevin

I mentioned in an earlier post that I was reading Lionel Shriver's 'We Need to Talk About Kevin'. At that stage I had just started the book and was totally gripped by it.

Now that I have finally finished it, I can definitely say it's one of the most interesting books I have ever read. Please put it in your Must Read list.

Clever, clever book. Wonder why it was not awarded any other prizes apart from the Orange Prize. Too popcornish?
A short synopsis taken from Amazon:

In a series of brutally introspective missives to her husband, Franklin, from whom she is separated, Eva tries to come to grips with the fact that their 17-year-old son, Kevin, has killed seven students and two adults with his crossbow. Guiltily she recalls how, as a successful writer, she was terrified of having a child. Was it for revenge, then, that from the moment of his birth Kevin was the archetypal difficult child, screaming for hours, refusing to nurse, driving away countless nannies, and intuitively learning to "divide and conquer" his parents? When their daughter, loving and patient Celia, is born, Eva feels vindicated; but as the gap between her view of Kevin as a "Machiavellian miscreant" and Franklin's efforts to explain away their son's aberrant behavior grows wider, they find themselves facing divorce. In crisply crafted sentences that cut to the bone of her feelings about motherhood, career, family, and what it is about American culture that produces child killers, Shriver yanks the reader back and forth between blame and empathy, retribution and forgiveness. Never letting up on the tension, Shriver ensures that, like Eva, the reader grapples with unhealed wounds.

7 Random Things

Confab's gone and tagged me on this so I guess I have to do my duty... In fact this kind of thing is right my alley. I have never denied that I am a geek-loser who is fascinated by top 10 lists, movie/book ratings and award shows. So i am actually kinda excited about this. ha ha.

Ok the rules:
~ Link your tagger and list these rules on your blog
~ Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
~ Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
~ Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Point to note: I am a very open guy. Too open. Therefore most of the stuff that I list here is probably not random at all.

1. I spit a lot when I smoke. I can't help it. There's this unnatural urge in me to spit whenever I exhale after a puff. I think it's some irrational hormone telling me that if I spit, the nicotine which I have just ingested will not really lace my lungs. A lot of people really find it disgusting and I have learnt to control it most of the time but I will still steal a quick spit when no one is looking.

2. It is to my understanding that everyone knows that I keep a list of movies I have watched and my corresponding grade for it. What most don't know is that I will revisit this list every once in a while to see whether I still have the same opinions. So I hide the column of grades and go through a process I call re-grading. Then I have some fun comparing the two set of grades I have given. I think my re-grading % is close to 90%. It is a relief that I am not as fickle as I thought. For all managers out there who have listened to my excuses of not meeting deadlines... this is the real reason.

3. I keep 5-6 bottles of water at my desk all the time. I try to drink lots to keep my body cool and comfortable. ha ha. I do it to prevent acne from spreading to my face. Sadly, my back has been ravaged by this awful disease and water, if not harming me in any way, is actually not doing much to help either.

4. I have a fascination with the occult. I will browse through hundreds of pages containing information on witchcraft, dark magic, the wiccan religion etc. and more often than not harbor some fantasy about being a warlock. However, for some random reason, whenever I have this fantasy, a suave ruthless image is sadly not conjured. What is conjured is always an image of me looking like Mr. Weatherbee from Riverdale High.

5. Speaking about fantasies.... My real ambition in life is to be a writer. But whenever I think of myself in a position that I might be remembered for, a researcher or a writer will never crop up. I always, always imagine being remembered as a teacher. Think Dead Poet's Society.

6. I talk to myself. And it's usually tied to random fact no.5. Always catch myself telling myself something but with the tone of a teacher. Like 'now, now, you must always try to come to work on time'. Ugh. Too personal. Also creepy.

7. I have a fear that I have Multiple Personality Disorder (MPD). Reasons: Random fact no.6, tendency to imagine a third non-existent person sitting next to us at McDonalds at 6am after a night of festivities, tendency to be a completely different person when drunk etc.

Alright. That's done.

I'm gonna tag my friend YC!

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

life chore

Today, I resigned from the market research company I have been working at for the last year and a half.

Thought I would feel a sense of exhilaration; a sense of relief. Unfortunately it did not come. Instead, this tiresome mood took me over and never let me go until I came home and decided to do some chores instead. But I understand that life is a chore too. So which is the bigger chore to live through?

I think part of me wants to feel like a failure; wants to feel miserable. Maybe I am one of those sadomasochists who like to inflict all sorts of horrible pain onto themselves. These actions result, under different circumstances and different stages of intoxication, in two separate, yet intertwined kinds of state: anger and sadness.

Anger because I feel I don’t deserve it and sadness because I feel that I do.

I guess I need a therapist. Like right now. Or is that too self-indulgent? It would be nice to talk freely and not be afraid of being judged…. And maybe, just maybe, all this talk and judgment is not really a big deal because the therapist will reveal that my ‘problems’ are just like the rest of the world’s problems.

And… for that instant, I will feel great waves of relief wash over me but in one fascinating, flabbergasting-ly, sickeningly horrid moment I will realize that I already know this and I am still the same person, going through the same shite which coincidentally everyone is going through but so what? Does that make the problem better? I hardly think so.

Friday, June 06, 2008

of breakdowns and deadlines

It's 4.45am on a Friday and I am trying to meet a 12noon deadline. I don't think I will make it. Feels quite horrible to be up at this hour really, especially since I crashed into my short-lived stupor only at midnight.
To make things worse, the air-conditioner in my room has broken down. I am using a fan! I haven't used one in years. How does it even work? Do I have to aim it at me? ha ha. Alright, I am not that bad but seriously, fans are so 1984.
Here I am worrying more about having an air-conditioned room than trying to meet my noon deadline. Pat on back for being the most considerate, competent, selfless and efficient employee of the year.