Tuesday, August 30, 2005
last night was a happy night.
i got phonecalls from phoon and clare.
even though clare disappeared quite abruptly ... speaking of which, i hope she's still alive.
last night was also bloody terrible.
i had the worst case of insomnia i've ever suffered.
even worse than the chinese Os one.
can you believe i was awake right through till 630 when my mom came to wake my sister up for school.
bloody it, i shock even myself.
and now, i can't even sleep because i just keep getting plagued with thoughts of UK and funnily enough, minesweeper games.
i hate anxiety attacks.
why am i always so prone to them, anyway.
and i don't even know why i'm getting all !!! about going back since, this really isn't the first time is it?
i don't want to go back.
why, why, why.
it's not like i totally hate it there or what, but dang, i've never in my whole 16 years of existence been so attached to my decrepit home and my TV.
and i just don't want to go back there, where i live with other people, and i have to be civil to them even though they don't mean anything to me and i could shoot them dead if you gave me a billion dollars, really.
is there anything worst in the world then having to have polite conversation with people you don't give two hoots about?
i mean, sitting at the dinner table with them, having to play nice, knowing that you pay them and they have to provide it, but somehow still feeling like a secondclass citizen.
OH GRARRRRRRRRR!!!!
i mean, i like them fine, even though sometimes i wish i wasn't staying with them.
but still.
clare is so lucky she has an apartment all to herself.
actually ..
bri is so lucky she has an apartment with her sisters only and even though there's all this drama, it's still family.
charlotte is so lucky she stays with her family.
and phoon is the luckiest, staying with her small little family of 3 people in a humongous mansion. even if her mom still yells around sometimes, at least there's so much land, phoon can just run somewhere and hide.
i dont want to go back.
-wails.
and who do you think you are, anyway?
phoon called, that made me happy.
was cursing through dinner, and then through my conversation with phoon.
she understands, she understands.
phoon's also changed her blog template in honour of me.
you just gotta love the girl.
hello, i've just been blog surfing randomly.
it's funny how most of the blogs i read belong to people i don't know.
it's almost as if the people i know aren't interesting enough.
but there now, we know that isn't true.
i suddenly got this urge to just blog.
blog about what ... i really don't know.
i still think blogging is excessive exhibitionism.
but i guess i am quite resigned to the fact that i am a shameless attention seeker.
not that too many people read my blog, so i guess i'm just being unneccessarily fussy.
had a bit of a tuition mates reunion yesterday.
was quite an unplanned thing.
seeing that lawsonn and i yabbered about it first, and .. you know how it is, when you don't actually think it's gonna happen.
so tuition was at 7, and we thought to meet around then.
at 4, i was convinced it wasn't gonna happen.
so i sat on my bed and read harry potter and the half blood prince.
at 6.45, i woke up found myself sprawled all over my floor.
vaguely remembering that i was supposed to wait for an answer from lawsonn, i jumped up and ran to my phone.
and then i saw a message, and then i thought okay, it's really not gonna happen.
then 1 minute later, my sister strolls in and tells me that lawsonn called 5 seconds before i woke up and said to go.
so i'm all,"huhhhh?"
god, i was all disorientated and dizzy-eyed.
but anyway, all worked out, and i actually thought that only a few would go, but my oh my was i in for a pleasant surprise.
like, almost my entire ex-class arrived.
and they even got a cake for laoshi and all that.
xin and davis are still in tuition, so we crashed it and laoshi typically stopped class.
man, i really miss those pre chinese Os days.
bloody bloody fun.
chinese tuition was seriously one of my favourite activities.
(okay, that sounded damn loser)
memories, brilliant memories of the whole bunch in one of the back classrooms, doing chinese papers and laughing non-stop over the silliest things.
god, i miss those days.
so for the rest of the night, i was damn high.
and i actually still am.
you see, i really am quite a simple, low-maintenance person.
everybody is wrong in thinking that i am difficult and high-maintenance.
(:
okay, random thought.
i think pinkshoefetish is damn fake.
and i don't even know why i read her blog sometimes when i am bored because it really doesn't help with making you less bored.
it's like how you would go see lovekimmi, not because you want to, but something just makes you.
you know, like a hideous car crash.
you don't want to see it, but you just cannot help it.
i mean, at least xiaxue is funny sometimes.
sarongpartygirl is way better.
and so's my all-time favourite, thepeonyprincess.
i don't understand why she has so many flamers, especially since i've been visiting her blog since like, her first blog, which was when i was in sec 2 (oh, i miss those young, carefree days too) and i have really never seen any reason to dislike her.
if anything, i would actually think she's more likeable then pinkshoefetish.
she's sounds more real, anyhow.
oh bloody it.
i'm in one of my moods again.
and i think i've just bitched a bit too much again.
but i will not allow myself to delete anything because i have this unnatural need to be true to myself and all the nasty facets that i comprise of.
ha ha ha, i hope nobody except charlotte and clare and bri and phoon reads my blog today.
because they are the only people i know who can read what i say and in turn, say something nastier.
(:
oh and this is just for clare to see
(since she insists that she actually does read my blog)
chanty, you rat.
dao my phonecall.
i was gonna ask you a tremendously interesting question, okaaaay.
and you're supposed to be done with all your psychology thesis/essays thingies already, so there's no excuse for your behaviour.
>:(
i'm not looking forward to returning to the UK.
okay, that was an understatement.
I DON'T BLOODY WANT TO STEP FOOT IN IT EVER AGAIN AND WHEN THE TIME COMES, I AM GOING TO EXTERMINATE THE ENTIRE ENGLISH RACE, DAMN IT.
my mom went to my uncle's company warehouse yesterday and came back with loads of cool alchohol.
amongst them, the usual array of barcadi and liquor.
and my uncle even put in a bottle of bailey's.
omfg.
how can i go back to the UK when i have a good, full, new, gorgoues bottle of bailey's just begging to to be drunk?
HOW?!
so yesterday, in my excitement, i down two brandy glassfuls of them.
and then later on at the party, i down another plastic cupful of it.
my love for bailey's transcends all.
back to the UK of impoverished living and cheap alchohol?
i think bloody not.
damn it, i really am not looking forward to it.
and how can i leave behind my TV?
all the chinese programs i am now severely addicted to.
and my kangxilaile ):
i'm never gonna see Dee Hsu with a big tummy.
and i won't even know when she gives birth.
all because i'll bloody be in bloody stinkin' UK.
okay, back from lunch.
had two satisfying brandy glassfuls of bailey's and one mouthful of my brother's lover cranberry barcadi.
ho ho ho.
my family turns every meal into some alchohol drinking spree.
i like, i like.
anyway, one day when i'm a multigabillionaire, i'll buy myself a set of those gorgeous crystal versace brandy glasses.
now we use only humble glass ones.
with the occasional humble non-branded crystal ones which we somehow always end up breaking so my mom doesn't let us use them anymore.
ah, if only my mom hadn't hacked away our cool bar-counter in one of her we-need-more-space fits.
or else, now we can drink in style sitting on those high chairs and all that shizz.
too bad my mom hacked it away before we were old enough to understand the use of the bar-counter other than a damned good place to play hide-and-seek.
oh well, oh well.
okay, i'm sad.
my sister is no longer a faint-hearted pussy like she used to be.
just now when she was eating the jelly that my mom made, i very lovingly told her,"you're consuming a cow's kneecap."
and she just looked at me and then continued eating.
dammit.
oh, and then she reminded me that when i eat cheese, i'm consuming a part of a baby cow's stomach.
ugh, thanks man.
mm, i'm suppposed to update classics!
but i don't know how to start.
it's charlotte's brainchild.
her baby.
i don't know how am i to phrase them in an adequately cool way.
ah well, can always edit.
god, that taiwanese is such a whiny bitch.
i'm going cross-eyed trying to read and translate her incoherent letters.
i mean, maybe it's because my chinese sucks.
but seriously, i've never known of a sentence which spans an entire paragraph.
and one whole stack of handwritten letters complaining about lousily done aluminium doors and windows and the cracks on the walls is just too much.
i mean, woman, have you never heard of the phone?!
why not call the bleeding people and yell at them instead of writing letter after letter about the same bloody things?
you insult alexander graham bell.
he must be turning in his grave now.
and ugh, if you had to write letters, why not have the decency to type them out?
as if translating isn't bad enough without my grappling with understanding that nasty handwriting.
you'll understand that the chinese language has thousands of characters, and that is actually a fair bit more than the 24 alphabets in the english langauge.
if your hanwriting is atrocious, writing in english would be more acceptable.
but this!
i'm not going to make it through the day without going blind, goddammit.
forbes.com has got to be the most interesting web online.
the world has 691 billionaires
and 4 of them are singaporeans.
and ...
!@#$%^&*
okay, that was supposed to be a long paragraph of bitching about two of these 4 billionaires.
but i'm kinda not too sure i can bitch about them.
the world is getting too litigious.
i'm scared.
but anyway, fuck them two!
>:(
oh, and i totally didn't know that shangri-la was malaysian.
i thought it was singaporean, truly.
i guess it never occurred to me that a place so grand and beautiful and .. civilized could've been well, malaysian.
-shrugs.
anyway, i think Li Ka-Shing sounds damn cool right.
such a nice ring to it.
and he's damn damn damn rich.
on the list, he was on the same page as Bill Gates.
which is pretty damn cool.
imagine waking up each day knowing that you're amongst the 25 richest men on earth.
god, i'll go crazy with joy every day of my life.
i could like .. fill my pool up in money and swim in it everyday.
(: (: (:
what joy.
oh god, sid just told me a very sad piece of news.
i now sincerely hope that sanny got full marks for Law.
watched Butterfly Lovers last night.
the HongKong one.
waaaaa, so cute!!
i think i like it better than Romeo and Juliet.
phoon will totally kill me when/if she sees this, but nevermind.
i still like Butterfly Lovers better.
i think Romeo and Juliet should be called the western Butterfly Lovers, and not the other way around which is more commonly used.
the west is so highly overrated it isn't funny anymore.
urk, i'm supposed to be translating those taiwanese letters again.
the very thought of it kills me.
it's like they have this whole new different way of expressing themselves, and i totally don't get it.
and suddenly you get infused with the sudden knowledge that however much we try, our mandarin level will just never reach Taiwan's or China's.
i might go into another tirade about Singapore's worthless supposed 'effectively bilingual' thingy.
except that i've recently read this Lee Kuan Yew book my mother bought and he was saying something like, you have to sacrifice the level of one language so that you can like .. know another language.
(okay, admittedly i am doing a damned lousy job of quoting the man)
and i quite agree, and so i shan't make a peep.
okay, i said all that to distract myself.
i still don't understand how sid couldn't have done some sabotaging before the exam.
grumbles grumbles grumbles.
have finished Prozac Nation.
for lack of a better description, it was bloody motherfuckingly mindblowingly brilliant.
so raw, so honest, so .. good.
i really like it a lot.
makes me wonder how i could've wasted all those years of reading romance novels or other trash when literary gems such as this were available for the taking.
maybe my mom will hate it.
maybe other people might not understand what's so great about the book.
but i think it could arguably be one of the best books i've read so far.
i love it even though at some points, her self-indulgence got really irritating, even for me.
and trust me, i am totally the kind who self indulges too much, and in some kind of a perverse, non-logical way, actually likes being depressed (or deeply melancholic, if depression is too strong a word)
i actually feel like i've learnt something valuable.
an insight into an illness that i possibly had a brush with last year, but thankfully never got sucked too deep into that dark vortex.
to sum it all up in general terms, chicken soup for my soul.
(which actually looks a little bit cheesy, i know. but bear with me i'm in one of those moods)
way better than the actual chicken soup books which truthfully bored the shit out of me even when i took to only reading the 'death and dying' sections because they must really be the most exciting of all those supposed inspirational prose.
did some superficial reading up on Freud's works and theories on the internet.
as far as i went, they were thoroughly interesting.
backnote to self about getting ready Sylvia Plath's books to read for next year's summer when hopefully i will have 3 months of happy, no worries about bad results days.
i would be reading Sylvia Plath now if not for the fact that term starts in about 2 weeks, and i truly do not need any sort of absorbing dark and depressive literature to awaken and encourage the self-indulgence in me to start thinking dark thoughts and get thoroughly depressed and disillusioned.
so much so i actually get all sad, and cannot study.
which will be very bad.
charlotte's birthday dinner later at shangri-la.
finally i get my way now that clare isn't here to refute me and demand that we go to ritz carlton instead because she thinks it's better just because she used to go there for high tea every sunday and bask in the reflected glow of her parent's wealth and her surrounding luxuries.
not that i don't want clare here.
i'd much rather she be here, and i browbeat her this time into going to shangri-la because shangri-la is to my family as ritz carlton is to clare's family.
i cannot stop raving about Prozac Nation.
too damn good.
it's funny how i actually don't feel like blogging, but i just have to type some entry of sorts now just to prove to myself that i am still going to blog even though i wanted to stop blogging and then didnt want to stop, but had to to prove to myself that i don't need to blog.
god, i sure make things tough for myself.
how tiring it is to be me.
it's the whole karmic thing, how i somehow manage to get everyone to do everything for me, and it actually turns out that i'm my biggest slave.
that does not make sense, does it.
no matter.
i got woken up by my hysterically happy sister at 9 today to watch Barbie Hsu and Vic Zhou on tv.
and of course, i very acquiescently got up to watch.
then after the program, i fell back in bed, and slept till 1pm.
which may not seem like too big of a deal to most people, but in my household, that is just not done.
if for example, i am not the daughter who has just spent the last 6 months in the UK, far far away from home, i can assure you that my mother would've very rudely woken me up and yelled a bit about wasting away my life in bed.
and the point of that is to point out how bloody sleepy i am now.
and i say sleepy and not tired because typically, i am not tired.
my excessive sleeping is because of my currently excessive intake of antihistamines.
i swear, my body now consists of 1 part blood, 2 parts antihistamines.
and when my sister woke me up at 9 today, my hands were shaking for no reason.
i wonder if that's a sign of over-dosage.
and if i might sound rather nonchalant relating that, i can assure you that it is certainly not the case.
for the whole day, i've been seeing unwelcome flashes of me living out the rest of my life in drug rehab.
and that's a pretty damn lousy image, if i may say so myself.
something tells me that i should really stop taking them antihistamines to battle my insomnia.
(that would explain me sitting here by myself blogging whilst the rest of the house is dead asleep even when i don't much feel like it)
but damn me, it's amazing what that tiny yellow pill can do.
brilliant invention, i must say.
snaps to scientists or whatever medical people who invent medicine.
Prozac Nation is an absorbing read.
i actually feel like i relate.
and i love how she articulated many things i used to feel but didn't understand enough to put it out into words.
which actually, is rather alarming, since i've never thought of myself as being mentally ill.
and i'll never be so exhibitionist in my approach because that is complete self-indulgence, which i totally personify but it's churlish anyhow to just get all Twelfth Night's Orsino about my emotions.
still in the midst of the book, seeing that i'm falling asleep all the time.
and it's very intense.
even when i'm not reading it, i still reel from the vividness of the book.
i'm thinking it's about the same effect you'll have from reading Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar.
you get so into the book, it's like you're suddenly living it.
kinda like acting, and then after, you have to get out of character or you'll be some manic depressive too.
when i'm done with the book, i'll really have to shut myself out to rehabilitate for a few days.
oh you know what, whatever.
it's 12.40 now and i want to sleep.
i think i'll just grab some antihistamines and salbutamols and be off.
i mean, if nature's not gonna let me sleep, then i'm jolly well gonna help nature and prod it along a bit.
And then i reminded myself that life is not a media-generated trend, I'll be damned if I'm going to deny myself just because of Len Bias amd Richard Pryor and whoever else.
Elizabeth Wurtzel
Prozac Nation
damn right.
i might not be drug dependent, but hell, is blogging not addictive too?
parellel situations i'm talking about.
so i'm a sheep,
so i'm like every other pathetic teenager in this world.
so bloody what.
if i want to blog, i jolly well am going to.
FUCK YOU.
i'm off.
i'm well and truly alarmed.
everybody is really shutting down their blogs.
and so the inertia to shut down my own grows stronger.
it's terrible, this.
i don't want people to know about my existence, but now all my friends are ceasing to blog.
we are scattered, in the truest sense.
i mean, 3 in the southern hemisphere (of which 2 are in the city, and one in surburbia), 1 in the northern hemisphere, and 1 at the equator.
you just don't get any more scattered than that.
and now without the blogs, how am i ever going to be reassured about my estranged friends' continued existence?
tch.
bad.
very bad.
at the current moment, i am the only one who is bored and conviction-less enough to continue.
too bad i'm one of those with tremendous herd instinct.
okay, now we can all just disappear into our sad little lives and not ever know if one and the other is still alive.
fuck inertia.
i never was a good physicist anyway.
goodbye.
ha ha, random thought about how Home by Kit Chan is the one and only singapore propaganda song i really really like.
from the first time i heard it in '98, i fell in love.
and till now, i still get that goosebumpy feeling when i hear it.
everytime, without fail.
and it doesn't even have to be Kit Chan singing.
as long as i hear the song, i go woozy with happiness.
now tell me i am so gay.
(:
i loved p4, it was the best year of my life.
serious, cross my heart.
brilliant friends.
i tell you, i adore andrea and daphne even if we hardly talk now.
i'm right down in love with them still.
i think people just never forget their p1 best friends.
oh, and wasn't that the year i met phoon bri and clare too.
ha ha, the people who are going to be at my wedding (to Domyoji; ha ha)
i feel frivolous and non-feeling now.
that is very good.
and i'm reverting to my blogging for nothing ways.
i still want to shut my blog because i don't really want to keep it.
did that make sense?
anyway, charlotte's found a solution for her blog.
i think maybe i'll keep mine and like, only allow some people to read ha ha.
but i don't want to lock it with a password too because i always curse people who do that to their blogs.
therefore, unauthorized eyes can buzz off.
as of yet, there aren't that many unauthorized eyes, but there are still an average of twenty pairs everyday gawking here.
seeing that i have only 4 friends, 3 of which, i suspect do not read my blog regularly, that leaves about 14 to 17 unauthorized eyes left, discounting my sister's and my eyes because they don't count.
so 14 to 17 of you, you know what to do.
SCAT.
ha ha ha, anyway, i shall continue with my pointless, aimless typing now simply because i enjoy typing.
my brother and i wanted to watch The Maid, so we made plans to watch it.
plans that did not include my sister because she is the biggest pussy in the world and she would probably break down into hysterics during the show and demand to be brought to watch Charlie and The Chocolate Factory.
anyway, my sister said that they only show The Maid at late night slots.
but seeing that she is always mis-informing me, i'm not really inclined to believe her.
i don't know when we're gonna go though.
dang, came home straight from the esplanade and started watching Armed Reaction the ancient show of my childhood which i actually don't remember watching.
ChengFeng looks damn thin and botoxicated!
oh, or do people say botox-ed instead?
no matter.
that was another way of saying that ChengFeng looked damn young.
and cute.
hee hee.
you know, i never thought that the guy was cute, but seeing him 10 years younger, 10 pounds thinner, and a hundred wrinkles and spots lesser really helps matters relative to how he looks like now.
Theory of Relativity, explained my way.
(:
ha ha ha, Albert Einstein Lee, thank you, thank you very much.
okay, if my brother is too lazy to move his arse to watch a movie with me later (i kinda want to test out my sister's information ha ha )
i will watch Love Contract and gawk at my Ah Ken who is actually damn ugly and common compared to Domyoji/Dao Ming Si,
but god, those sexy eyes.
those power people should really hire him to help out with electricity and stop burning fuels so that there is enough crude oil left for me to upkeep my future hypothetical fleet of cars which will include a Ferrari 360 Modena, a Lamborghini Diablo, a Mercs, a Beemer, a Jaguar and a Bentley amongst others till the day i die at least.
ha ha ha, i like the way i think.
in my world, every cool thing this earth has to offer will have to survive till the day i die.
after i die, they can cease to exist for all i care.
i really don't give two hoots about how the rest of the world is going to survive without fuel, or water.
or air.
they can suffer, i don't care.
serves them right for being younger and prettier than me.
and for daring to survive longer than me.
ho ho ho.
does anybody else realise that i keep switching tenses?
it's so irritating!
i cannot seem to stop myself.
lousy english foundation, i tell you.
i don't even know what a verb is.
anyway, watched Dim Sum Dollies with the Family this time.
this woman from the audience was called up for one segment of the show and asked to tell the audience something about herself.
she said, " .. well, i drived my husband here .. "
i got such a rude shock when i heard that.
and i practically had to stuff my shoes into my mouth to stop myself from yelling out, "DROVE, woman, for goodness sake, DROVE."
it's very sad, a grown married woman using 'drived' as the past tense for drive.
seriously!
ugh.
and this is where i have to thank my mother for those many painful nights (painful for me), in kindergarten and p1, of her holding First Aid in English and drilling into my numbskull all the grammar i had to know.
she'd hit me if i got something wrong and frustrated her with my stupidity.
but hey, at least i know 'drived' is one word which will never be in my vocabulary.
ever.
i think bad english is really one of my pet peeves.
ha ha ha.
and i cannot even keep my tenses constant.
hypocritical, not?
but oh whatever.
not happy ARR, fight lah.
:D
someone should explain nip/tuck to me.
like for example, why is the mother screwing her son?
it's a bit twisted how he's crying and says,"mommy."
and then leans forward to try and kiss her.
terribly disturbing.
had a bad insomniac night.
i'm feeling wacky.
yes, i feel like hanging a placard around my neck and parading.
the placard will cheerfully read:
"I am Mrs Domyoji Tsukasa.
In other words, that means Domyoji Tsukasa is my man.
All Mine.
and lordy me, what a man.
He's tall, cool, cute.
And, he has a 1.5 million sq feet house.
HAH! beat that, suckers."
oh, whatever.
i know that hardly made any sense.
but i just do whatever my mood dictates.
and i've got myself a new ambition.
i plan to be Ruler of the Universe.
in thirty years time, my face will be on every single legal tender on earth.
Bye Bye, Benjamin Franklin.
Bye Bye, Yusof Bin Ishak.
Bye Bye, Mao Ze Dong.
HELLO, Lee!
and not only will i have my face on the money, i will have my hands on them too.
ho ho ho.
:D
yes, i'll be like Qin Shi Huang, except better.
because he united China, but i'm gonna unite the world.
and ha ha, i'll use the Al Qaeda as my Gestapo.
we all need a little fear to assert power, don't we?
and once i become Ruler of the Universe, i will do it the ancient chinese way and get rid of all the Oakeses in the world, their family and friends included.
(over-population is such a problem these days)
then i wil have Beverley Oakes captured, and she will stand hopeless while she sees her beloveds, and other innocents she does not know but who unfortunately share the same name as her die because of her.
and just to rub salt into her wounds and to make me happier, she will be the nu cai of my pet dog.
ha ha ha, bitch.
-
ARGH MY SISTER JUST TOLD ME THAT THAT BARBIE HSU HAS OFFICIALLY GOT HER FILTHY CLAWS ON VIC ZHOU.
!!! oh. my. mother.
i knew it, i knew it!
i knew she's had her cunning little paedophilic eyes on him since meteor garden.
nasty little vixen.
i bet she was relishing every smooching scene with him in mars.
i just bet.
and she's been trying to seduce him since like, forever!
THAT OLD HAG.
5 years older and she still wants to go and play around with a small boy.
what the hell.
i don't like her anymore.
>:(
in meteor garden, she got to smooch jerry yen.
and in mars, she got to smooch vic zhou.
just two shows, and she's infringed on both my sister's and my interests.
biatch.
like, i don't even like vic zhou, but is she not the most sly little rat around for being so despicable?
preying after the cute guileless one.
so much for like having him as a godbrother.
that was probably just some tactical warfare to seduce him.
despicable, manipulative woman.
my sister and her friend had some humongous barbie hsu bitching session in school.
GOOD.
i approve.
that's another one down on my hit-list when i become the Ruler of the Universe.
but i will be merciful and not do the ancient chinese thing because i adore dee hsu too much and the world will be a sorrier place if she dies.
okay, now my sister's shut her blog too.
it's really about time i shut mine.
ha ha ha, actually i was going to, but then i just had to rant a bit.
god, i really hate that barbie hsu.
grrrrrrRARRRR!!
charlotte's just left.
i'm suddenly in a very pensive mood.
dear me, i was going to spell pensive as 'pensieve'.
testament to how my subconscious must really be caught up in potter mania.
was going to blog today in the office, but i kept losing interest after typing the first two words.
was talking to charlotte just now about this sudden non-interest in blogging.
and we both agreed that blogging is suddenly rather tedious.
i think it's because people who blog have this innate exibitionist in them they need to flaunt.
and it's come to that time in our lives where we really don't need any .. well, i suppose, public acceptance or some sort of needing others to know what you do anymore.
and suddenly you start to wonder why you started blogging in the first place.
it all seems rather pointless suddenly.
or at least my blog is.
i think blogging is highly overrated.
unless you're a public figure, or have some earth-shattering wisdom to share with the masses, there really is no point in blogging.
and i am neither.
of course, even as i am contemplating shutting down my blog, i sincerely hope charlotte doesn't close her's.
you'll find that her blog has more of a point than mine, actually.
i don't think anybody really cares what i did today or how dao ming si is my one true love (yes, he still is)
but charlotte's has a greater meaning at least.
i like to think of fcukcouture as the cyber equivalent to The Complete Idiot's Guide to Complete Idiots.
we just spent a large percentage of our time thinking up an entry for charlotte's blog.
it is as yet unpublished, because we lost interest in it halfway.
the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak, i suppose.
we had a great deal of content, but such a chore putting things down into words, especially if they are in such polished packages.
at charlotte's, it's all about aesthetics.
i have to admire charlotte's tenacity.
if i even put in half the effort she does in any one of my posts, methinks i'll have given up blogging a long time ago.
another reason why i think i should abstain from blogging is because all i can think about is moaning about dao ming si, and god, however scintillating he is, writing about my love really gets old after a while.
when even you start to get bored about what you write, it's a sign that you really are piss-ass boring.
whatever it is, i'll still like to say that i was immensely useful at the office today.
i impressed myself with my efficiency.
(ah yes, old habits die hard. i cannot stop describing my mundane days)
i wish charlotte hadn't left so soon.
not that we were talking much by the time she left.
lethargy is such a conversation killer.
she was slumped on my chair half moping, and i was slumped on my chair listlessly playing minesweeper.
to think that even when i haven't got a more exciting life out there, i want to give up bloggin because it seems to have lost it's point.
of course, it never really had a point actually.
but at that time, you just wanted to have a blog because, well, because.
and now, i'm past the whole blogging thing.
i think bloggers are all attention seekers secretly.
and man, i never thought i was that shameless, but hmm, come to think of it, i think everybody is an attention seeker some time in their life.
but i'm past it.
i'm past that point in life where i need attention of some sort.
charlotte suggested a private thing just for friends.
(and i have very few of those)
you know, just in case we can't kick the blogging habit so abruptly.
(and i have to admit, blogging becomes addictive after a while)
i think i'm going to think very seriously about that one.
maybe this is growing up.
or maybe, it's just some phase i'm going through.
you know how it is.
it's that time of the year again.
i'm getting very worried that i'm never going to get married.
been bingeing on fengshui reading sprees.
most of them tell me the same thing.
i will spare you the details and get to the point that worries me most.
fengshui master no 1 (a.k.a he who is more polite and subtle) kept stressing that in the future, i must must must be kind to my spouse and be nicer to him.
fengshui master no 2 (a.k.a Father - he who is blunt and doesn't care about my fragile feelings) said this to me, "Whatever it is lah, i tell you. Next time whoever the man who marries you is, I PITY HIM."
i am so distressed.
but you know what?
next time, whoever the poor sucker who marries me is,
i think i pity him too.
i'm actually in a brilliant mood now because dim sum dollies was really fun.
thankyouthankyou yiyang and family.
(:
BUT BUT BUT, i've just received the reply from Beverley BitchOakes.
in every single sentence, she was insinuating that i missed the bloody accomodation meetings she held.
that's what i cannot stand about these english people.
all that hypocrisy and fake niceness.
two-faced motherfuckers.
one day, i will rule the world.
then what i will do is exterminate the english people and use the UK as the world's dumping ground.
yes, the UK shall be the world's rubbish bin.
i swear when God made the world, on the 7th day, he shat and out came the UK.
Beverley Oakes, that bitch.
i'm really too tired to think of a bad enough curse, but i'll .. well, kill her.
bloody pussy.
adulteress.
whore.
i should really go to Africa and learn some voodoo skills.
lovely way to get rid of scum without any sign seemingly.
bitchbitchbitch.
god, these people make me so angry.
i really cannot stand all these bloody english people.
i bet the australians are better.
being descendants of english convicts should make them a lot less anal than the english.
okay, but it's not their anal retentiveness that is the problem.
it's their stinkin' attitudes.
and their bloody hypocrisy.
xiao li chang dao.
that about sums it up.
who does the bitch think she is anyway?
she's just some worthless ho who's earning our money.
another useless fat ass who is a complete dreg of society.
all those times i heard about her being a bitch, like god, she isn't a bitch, she personifies it.
whoring female dog.
it sucks when you're a student.
it really does.
i cannot wait for the day when i become like dao ming si's mother.
then i will rule the world and i will get rid of people like beverley oakes like hitler got rid of the jews.
GAS THEM.
in fact, i think hitler should've gotten rid of the english rather than the jews.
because the jews at least, were smart.
the english are fat and stupid.
oh wait.
yeah, no wonder hitler didn't think of killing them.
no big threat, see?
and don't go thinking that the allies won so the UK's all cool.
if America didn't join the war, the allies would've never won and now, england will be a third world country (as if it isn't already) and the world will be ruled by the germans and the japanese.
not the mention the fact that there will be loads of chinese-japanese hybrids running around.
so in other words, england is full of losers and america is actually the cool one.
so if anyone is to talk big, it's the US not the UK.
but then again the US shouldn't talk big either because now the world is changing and nobody really cares what they think anymore.
but what's funny is they think people care, so they continue spouting.
but nobody cares.
and so the US starts forcing people to do stuff, and that's when the others start to care and the show it.
HOLA 911!
not that i support terrorism, but in a way, they do serve as a pretty good reminder to the fat losers who think they are so great that they actually aren't so great.
i think a balance of good and bad is definitely good.
if not the good gets too sanctimonious and life sucks for us little people.
so in conclusion, the english people should be wiped out.
the terrorists are doing a pretty good job of it.
but i shall not applaude them because i don't want the metropolitan police to shoot me a million times in the head because they think (keyword: think) that i'm one of the terror people.
bloody english pigs.
it's a pity brazil isn't big enough.
and it's a greater pity the poor bugger they shot down wasn't American.
thataway, America would rise up in rage, end the alliance, declare jihad on the UK and do the rest of the world (ie. me) a huge favour by wiping them out.
i'm digressed abit.
whatever.
fuck off beverley oakes.
the day i become ruler of the universe, you'll be very sorry you tried to sow discord between my mother and i by insinuating that i did not go for your loser accomodation meeting, which incidentally, i did go to though not because i wanted to see your fat adulterous ass, but because i wanted to get out of econs early.
bitch.
last night, i dreamt i got accused of murder.
maligned, i might add too.
):
i think i should really have a heart-to-heart with the BFG soon.
you know, about the dreams he gives me.
like, more of dao ming si, less of crime conviction thank you very much.
yay, my mom sent a scathing email to beverly oakes on my accomodation under my goading.
feeling very damned pleased with myself.
i'll die before i pay that obese scot more for her dump of a house.
and if she insists, it's au revoir.
without the revoir.
did that make sense?
ha ha ha.
i'll just create a large scene and show them my leprosy stricken legs and blame it all on her bloody 2 cats and a rabbit.
and if she makes me pisser, i'll hint at the hygiene in her house.
and if she makes me even pisser, i'll insinuate so much shit she'll get struck off the host list.
>:(
bitch.
don't mess with me, fats.
god, that felt so good.
i feel like i am alive again.
ho ho ho.
i'm blogging again because i am so happy.
not yay! bouncing around kind.
like a glowing from inside kind of happy.
beams of sunshine radiating from me.
just imagine me.
sunshine girl.
or as charlotte likes to say, mary sunshine!
ha ha ha, smsing clare now.
she thinks it's like some orgasmic thing.
that's why i'm so happy.
WRONG!
i don't remember the details, but it really had nothing to do with sex.
so that means that my subconscious is not a nympho.
(:
okay, clare is making me remember the dream a bit more.
i have to keep refuting her guesses.
she thinks there's some kinky thing.
no, there wasn't.
she thinks it's got to do with loads of money that's why i think it's so sweet.
au contrare.
it was some small communal place.
and i'm quite sure the floor was made of wood.
not of the parquet variety.
more of the the wooden planks kind.
okay, now clare is officially disgusted.
she thinks i should be dizzy with denial.
not being all happy.
ha ha ha (:
whatever lah, i'm really pleased with the dream.
the medicine i took worked this time.
not only did i fall asleep, i had a brilliant dream.
i think REM is god-sent.
:D
ha ha ha, and in a way, a brilliant dream works in the same way as good sex.
ho ho.
(:
goddammit, i'm so pleased with myself it's not even funny.
shalalala.
i wanna eat something sweet.
ha ha.
im incoherent, but i dont care.
because i am happy.
(:
i dreamt of dao ming si last night.
he had many manifestations.
there was the one that looked that jerry yen, the one that's from the comic, and then nick carter with black hair appeared too!
and there was another one too, but i don't remember who.
OH! -sings.
i'm damn high
(:
nothing will get me down today.
ooh la la.
and the weather was so good in the morn.
dark skies, wind, then heavy downpour.
can the day get anymore perfect?
!!!!!!!
i know my life is shit, but today, all is forgotten!
just for today.
WHOOOOOEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
:D
i am so the girl on happy drugs.
god im cursed.
i cannot even do some simple completely undangerous paperwork without getting a million papercuts.
my poor fingers.
whats this, kill lee day?
ma de.
im back for work.
damnations.
and here was i already planning which vcds to watch.
my sister's iPod has been sent for repair.
ugh, sick.
now i am music-less.
i'd better get me an iPod very soon.
got a sore throat now.
will my troubles never end?
and i still can't find my wallet and handphone.
but i'm not suffering from any nasty sinking world-is-going-to-end feeling.
this means that neither my wallet or my handphone is in mortal peril.
and that i'm most likely going to find them soon.
and so, my search continues.
dratted things.
what's the damned problem here is that i have no guts.
no guts to drop everything.
no guts to think of a future without money.
no guts to think of life without glitz.
fucking no guts to do the unconventional.
and that's me.
fucking gutless lee.
and now i have no fucking idea where my wallet and handphone are.
great.
my life can get no greater.
fucking brilliant life of mine.
how the fuck am i supposed to contact charlotte now?
WAHLAOEHTAFUCKINGMADECHEEBYEWATERMELONKANEENAH THE BITCH HOSTESS JACKED UP HER FUCKING HOUSE RENT WHAT A MOLERAT THINK HER HOUSE DAMN COOL AH WHAT THE MOTHER FUCK THAT LOUSY DUMP WANT ME TO PAY 96 POUNDS FOR A WEEK YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME WHY SHOULD I FUCKING PAY SO MUCH TO FEED YOUR FUCKING FAT ASS YOU FUCKING SCOTTISH FAT BITCH I DONT FUCKING THINK YOURE FUCKING WORTH IT AND IM FUCKING PISSED FUCKING OFF I DONT EVEN FUCKING WANT TO GO FUCKING BACK TO FUCKING CTC FUCK NOW LIKE I OWE EVERY FUCKING PERSON A FUCKING LIVING AND FUCK LIKE IM FUCKING THE FUCKING MONEY DRAINGAE SYSTEM FUCKING SHOULDVE GONE TO FUCKING ITE FUCK LIKE FUCK LAH IM ALREADY LIKE DAMN FUCKING STRESSED AND FUCKINF EXHAUSTED AND STILL SUFFERING FROM FUCKING INSOMNIA AND FUCKING HAVING TO TAKE THE FUCKING MEDICINE LIKE A FUCKING SLEEPING PILL AND NOW THE FUCKING THING DOESNT WORK EITHER AND EVERYFUCKINGDAY I AM SO FUCKING TIRED AND I FUCKING NEED TO SLEEP BUT I FUCKING CANT AND NOW MY MOTHER IS FUCKING PISSED WITH ME AND I FUCKING AM NOT IN THE FUCKING MOOD TO PUT UP WITH THIS SHIT FUCK AND NOW YOU FUCKING JACK UP THE FUCKING PRICE IM NOT BLOODY MOTHER FUCK GOING TO PAY A GOLD MINE TO STAY IN THE PIGSTY AND BE TREATED LIKE A SECOND CLASS CITIZEN AND HAVING TO PUT UP WITH HER CRASS GODFORSAKEN HYPOCRITICAL ATTITUDE YOU THINK I FUCKING CARE WHAT YOU THINK SHE FUCKING NEED S TO BE FUCKED FAT BITCH SMILING AWAY AND FUCKING NOT MEANING A FUCKING THING SHE SAYS IM NOT FUCKING GOING TO PAY YOU BITCH MAY YOU ROT IN HELL AND MAY SATAN'S LITTLE MINIONS FUCK YOU UPSIDE DOWN DONT YOU FUCKING MESS WITH ME IM NOT IN THE FUCKING MOOD FUCK OFF.
aiya, office again.
i really dont like it here.
i feel like some criminal.
and i'm getting the sniffles again.
i tell you, i am allergic to this place.
should have stayed home sick.
i just wish i've gotten pneumonia or something.
then i'll have good reason to excuse myself from work for the rest of the month.
it's not like i want the money or anything.
i got the 500 bucks during the weekend, and it was like okay yay, whatever.
so i dont know.
maybe i'm wrong, and everybody's wrong.
maybe i don't even particularly like money.
okay, who am i kidding.
but anyway, that money really didnt excite me.
at all.
and that's what makes it interesting.
500 bucks may not be much, but it's not a pittance either.
i think i just don't like work.
it's not that i don't like work.
it's just that i don't like working in a place where i dont even know what i'm supposed to do all the time.
it's like, hello i'm lee, odd-jobs girl.
i might as well start making coffee for everyone.
i juat hate sitting here, hearing the sounds of everybody busy at work, and i'm just well, sitting here.
and feeling damn uneasy because i'm not doing anything.
which is not much of a problem because i'd much rather not have anything to do then have something to do, but the point is, i feel uncomfortable.
so that is not good.
not good at all.
):
what i would do to just be able to sit home and rot.
