Greetings from the office. While waiting for work to end at 530pm, there are a bunch of wordpress sites loading on my desktop and a myraid of thoughts buzzing through my head.
For one, I definitely need to bring my own stash of black coffee tomorrow before I fall face flat onto my desk after the attack of sleeping gas that is lunch and a brolly to protect me from the sun when I walk to Changi City Point.
Work has been interesting. Phoned up Singtel thrice today, Starhub twice. The internet is so painfully slow, I feel like I’m killing myself with a butter knife whenever I try to load a webpage or send out an email. But otherwise, things are pretty interesting and I just learnt how to scan 100 pages of receipts and claims in under 30 minutes.
I am really sleepy now despite having stolen half a pack of coffee and this is the only reason this post exists.
When I look into my mirror now, I have this urge to let out a hearty, deep from my belly laugh because my hair is ridiculous. But I am so happy with it, because it is such an exquisite, intricate mess. It is so out of control, whacky, odd, crazy, completely insane, but it is so me. And I am so contented, so happy, so childishly elated by the state my hair is in, because for once, I feel like everything is aligned.
This blog could easily be the best thing that happened to me in 2012 (although the year has barely started.) Besides reminding me of the fact that I can actually churn out posts that vaguely resemble something legible, it is also my incinerator for all things annoying, depressing and worth bitching about in life. A plus point would also definitely be that not many know about or willingly come here to listen to my incessant whining and over dramatised recounts of life, which makes it so much easier to actually post about things that matter.
Attempted to ombre my hair today, not at a salon, but at home, in front of a sink, with two boxes of pharmacy bought dye and a strong soul able to withstand the aftermath. I guess I got too bored after being night-grounded by Mop and this was my mediocre attempt at trying to piss her off. Okay, so I wasn’t night grounded. But Mop wasn’t elated with the epic night last Saturday and has repeatedly tried to talk to me about “late nights out in sleazy places”, talks which turn into arguments, which she eventually loses and ends with me telling her “This discussion is not over Moppy.” I have been wanting to have this “darling daughter all grown up” talk with her since forever, but I have no idea why we haven’t so much as passed the egg shell with the topic yet. I will post more about the conflict between Mop and I soon, probably after I return triumphant from the final argument.
See, this post is proof that I am capable of blogging about things that do not involve a) broken friendships b) alochol c) being judged and d) trust issues. I am perfectly competent at posting interesting snippets of my otherwise mundane life, all with a splash of humor as seasoning. Oh and regarding the outcome of my ombre-d hair? Its a mess. But I quite like it, because for once, how I look outside and how I feel inside are aligned.
I just had to end this in a less than cheery tone. (Hehe)
I thought I’d do some writing here before I jump into the tragic mess that is my local university applications, of which I, being so arrogant, have contemptuously ignored, pushed away and left to the very last minute. There were a few times this week, where I’ve set myself in front of the computer willing myself to update, yet unable to do so because my thoughts, my poor thoughts were so tangled, jumbled and woven into each other that it would have been impossible for me to pull each strand out and arrange them into a legible form. I do have to get down to some serious serious writing after this (and by serious I do not mean a 300 word essay for the SMU applications but rather a letter to my mother), and I thought doing some warm up here would be a good start.
Listening to the voice of a very talented boy on Youtube (sstec09, Youtube him!) and it sounds like heartbreak. I hardly know any of the songs he sings, I listen because his voice, its just this mix of heartache, sorrow and maybe a tinge of indifference. Thanks to the constant looping of “We Are Young”, I felt indestructible for most of the week, yet yesterday, after I got home from a couple of drinks, a single word managed to drag me down from the highest of pedestals into the deepest of pits. I don’t take rejection very well, never did, never will. I was so confident, so full of myself after being on a roll so far, that I put in so little effort I might as well have single handedly crushed my dreams and threw it into the incinerator. But even if the light at the end of the tunnel grows dim, you still continue believing because you can’t go back anyway.
There’s probably a ton more stuff I should be writing about, like how I finally met Heather after 22 days, how I have been visiting Shuffle too often, too often, too often, how I got my OCBC card which I am excited to use, and how I am actually about to start work. But suddenly I realise all these don’t matter at all. Life is transient, and as much as I would love to sound optimistic and excited about it, it is also temporary and kind of meaningless. Yet that does nothing to change the fact that life is precious, so we should all party away and have one drink too many. (Only applies if you are 19 years young)
Not used to being in bed so early and trying to make sense of the negative feelings bobbing around in my head. Of course, I’m failing as usual and perhaps the only thing that can keep me from falling into the abyss of depression is an endless Glee Marathon. Okay I’m just kidding. I just feel like devouring a giant chocolate cake now.
I honestly cannot comprehend how feelings can change overnight. For example, one moment you’re insanely in love with someone and no matter which angle you view him from, he looks like a beautiful Adonis carved from marble. And suddenly, as if by some sort of sorcery, his every move disgusts you. Same goes to friendship. I wonder how friends who used to be able to share anything and everything can end up nitpicking to the very last cent and very last minute you arrive late. We used to dream of taking over the world, but now we probably couldn’t stand living in the same continent.
The topic of decomposing friendship seems to be getting a little mouldy, especially in this blog where I first wrote about a friend I missed and then did a cover wishing I could keep someone in my life and finally revisiting the exact same problem I posted about just last night. Perhaps in a life made lackluster by a striking shortage of romance, the only way I can create a moody, melodramatic persona is through the dissection of my bromances. Of which I know is less than interesting but yet is surprisingly capable of bringing as much heartache as a bad romance.
So to all those lovers and friends out there, you’re not alone in feeling as though someone has reached into your gut and punched your heart. I guess at some point, everyone has had their heart mercilessly squished by the hands of someone they willingly placed that precious muscle in. Afterall, only those you love the most have the ability to hurt you the deepest.
I can almost feel it before a friendship sours. Almost as though there were alert signals beeping at maximum volume trying to get me to do something about it before the relationship breaks down. More often than not, I ask myself if I’m the problem. If I possess such a repulsive character that my friends scurry away from me after they discover my flaws. Sometimes, you just cannot help it when what used to be sheepish but adoring remarks become insanely annoying and irritating and everything else said just becomes a spark for disaster. We used to be great friends, but now? I don’t even know any more. Perhaps not seeing each other for a while would be the best remedy for the situation right now.
On a lighter note, university replies have proven to positive so far, and I cross my fingers in hope that the rest will be as optimistic as well. Oh, and the interview I talked about the previous time? Totally blew it. Not that I wasn’t eloquent enough or that my balancing acts were a disaster, but the hours were long and the pay unsatisfactory. Maybe it was quite a good job, but I set too high a standard for the F&B industry. Whatever the case, my mother prefers me to waste my life away gallivanting with my friends or being cooped up at home. But well, there’s always a balance in life right? Perhaps my loss in work is paving my success in education. Ok, who am I kidding man.
I also successfully survived Valentine’s, which was an extremely hectic but really fun day. Hired by my brother to cook up a storm at his house for Valentine’s, so I dragged Gui and Jem along to be my assistants. I thoroughly underestimated the pains of a restaurant owner. From table placements to ingredient chopping, cooking and dessert making, I am really glad I have such awesome friends. In the end, the mission turned out a success and both my brother and his wife were pleased by our professionalism. Gorgeous table set up (in photo) by Gui, delicious mussels and an amazing Tiramisu dessert made by Jeremy. I guess Valentine’s isn’t all about spending it with a significant other, but rather making the day better for others as well right? Nah. Left the couple after they came home and headed down to Clarke Quay for a night of relaxation and drinks with some other single people and got sucked into the vortex of Bar Cocoon, or what the others would term as The Foribidden City. I say if you’re not interested in their signature cocktails and the giant Terracottas freakishly gracing the club, don’t go there. Drinks were expensive and while waiting for the crowd to get in (granted there wasn’t going to be that much of a crowd considering the fact that it was a Tuesday), we were so bored. Service at the door sucked as well, as we were greeted by glum faces and condescending tones, also didn’t help that they proceeded to check our IDs. Shifted to Shuffle shortly because we were hungry and someone requested for Mandopop. The live band wasn’t so bad, and food wasn’t expensive, drinks were great too, considering the fact that they had a tap with the Eiffel Tower on top of it.
Sigh, life is always great until you think of how much it costs to have a good life. The irony.
Too lazy to think of a title, so almost all my blog posts bear the lyrics of a song I’m currently listening to. This time, it happened to be Back for Good by Take that, but I am obviously listening to the Boyce Avenue cover of the song. I have a feeling I’m turning into a fangirl soon.
I used to take real photos, like real real photos. Not the kind taken by the crappy camera on my crappy phone, but the kind where I spend 5 minutes thinking, 6 minutes adjusting and 7 minutes reviewing until I manage to capture the perfect shot of the subject. Perhaps when life is constantly spiralling out of control, you just don’t have the kind of time to carry around a bulky camera waiting for the perfect lighting, perfect subject and perfect backdrop for the perfect picture. But then again, there’s no such thing as perfect right? If there was one thing I’ve learnt from photography, its that the best pictures hide in the most unlikely of situations. So you should always be ready. Another reason to add “Take more photos with Dorothy” on my New Year’s list of resolutions.
Today, the four of us got so bored of staring at each other after three consecutive days of meeting up. It made me wonder if I would be able to spend the rest of my life with the same person without being tired of the curve of their brow, or the depth of their eyes. Would I be able to sleep next to the same person without tiring of their scent or the angle of their spoon? Perhaps boredom is what drives lovers away from each other into the arms of strangers. But if we could all just stick to the boredom a little longer, we might be surprised to find that at the end of the boredom lies familiarity, which is what all homes are built upon.
I think if I met myself, I wouldn’t want to make friends with myself. And I think I’ve said that more than once. Just listening to my voice is enough to irk me. So kudos to those who are still gungho enough to be my friend, I applaud your inhumane amounts of courage, tolerance and good taste. 😀
Fishing with the 12 usuals today, and we reaped more than we could ever expect. Sometimes you have to go with an empty heart and a willingness to try new things in order to be rewarded with the good stuff. Besides the blue spotted stingray and the two abnormally huge Patin fishes, we walked away with a little bit more appreciation for nature and a little bit more valuation of the quiet times friends can spend together without technology or luxurious food (with the exception of a $22 sushi set and frantic uploading of our catch on Facebook). Sometimes we just have to step away from the crowded hustle and bustle of the city life and into the quaint and relatively more rural suburbs to be reminded of the finer things in life. Sometimes its not the things you do, but the people around you that matter.
The search for a job has proved to be a long and winding journey, with more than 5 applications submitted yet no response yet. 😦 Its almost as if someone has been feeding my potential employers with information of my secret life – bitchy, obnoxious and spoilt. Blah, with the bank account almost empty and no sign of a job in the near future, it seems like I am going to have to live on bread and water for the time being. The woes of being a grown up.
My thighs are also burning from the days of continuous jogging, which also proves how unfit I used to be. I still have yet to discover the joys of exercising, so I am relying on the cool night breeze and upbeat songs to keep me from giving up. There is also a sudden realization towards my lack of friends, thanks to Facebook, where pictures of my school mates attending countless social events involving people not from Dunman have been appearing faster than ants at a candy bar. Where do they even find such people?! School life has been so hectic, especially in the last two years that it would have been impossible to have had such a flamboyantly spectacular social life. Unless you are a church goer that is. I have almost no friends besides those from school, unless you count the useless AM whose like a million miles away from here. I need to get out of my house and into the great urban jungle, maybe then will I meet some new people, especially when Tekong has been repeatedly swallowing my lepak buddies. I am not happy.
In 2012, I also wish that there will be one day whereby I am comfortable with the way I look. Despite having repeatedly advocating love for oneself, I still have difficulty feeling like a boss in my own skin.