Fuck. Either i'm pregnant (god knows how; maybe i've been sleeping on some really funky bedsheets) or my body's emulating my brain and has decided to become a huge floppy sack of sloth.

Did that last part even make sense?

ok, i was gonna go on this long ramble about how i've been feeling so tired lately blah blah blah but...

HotGirl just passed by my cube.

A brief update for those who didn't attend the FagHag convention yesterday (aka dinner with B1 and B2) and didn't get a chance to be filled in on the Amazing Trials and Tribulations of dada_ang, Retardo Girl.

I'll have to get this out in bullet points, cos, Excess Time Thinking About How To Phrase This In Proper English=Globs of DadaBrain Strewn Over Table.

Yesterday:

-HotGirl (HG) walks over to retrieve something from printer.

(for the geographical geeks *cough* macy *cough*: the office printer is right across my cube, so everyone who uses it gets to see me fucking around at my desk)

- dada ang looks up from desk, sees who it is, quickly looks back down.

-HG senses DA's glance, looks at her.

-DA sneaks a peek at her again, and BOOM!, eye contact is made.

-HG smiles a VERY cute, goofy smile.

-Beat. DA looks at her, gives something akin to a grimace, then looks back down again.

Cue internal wailing of WHY?! WHY?! WHY AM I SO FUCKING RETARDED?! and much banging of head on desk.

Y'know how the people onboard the Titanic must have felt when they knew that they were gonna sink with the ship? Well, i didn't feel like that, but i felt pretty fuckin' stoopid.

Why does this happen all the time? I'm beginning to think i have some kind of anxiety disorder when it comes to social situations. The previous crush i had, on She-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named-But-Everyone-Knows-Who-She-Is-Anyway, i couldn't even end a conversation without rambling on and on like a Selvan or stop spasticating whenever i went out with her. Still can't, by the way.

Anyway, my point is, today, i gotta find a way to stop, look HG in the eye, and SMILE, and say 'Hi'. Or 'Bye.' Or 'No, i'm not stalking you, I'm just stretching my legs, haha! haha!'.

Look. Just... look.

i fucking, fucking HATE making phone calls. Gimme Xcell sheets to type out? Done. Envelopes to stuff? Well, they might get returned to sender, but ultimately, done.

Calling people, on the other hand.. Hold on.

I just went thru my mental list of reasons of why calling people up sucks, and it doesen't seem so terrible after all!

Wow.. is this how normal brains function? Think, process, conclude? Mine seems to skip a few step quite often.

Fuck! my colleague just came by.. gave me another super-long list of names.. ok, taking back what i just wrote bout not hating making calls.

eh naz! i got what y'were asking during Gel's ride! it's not H n M! it's N and M! u and Macy!!

because i am very bored:

TOP 10 THINGS THAT, IF I WERE A TOTALLY FICTIONAL PERSON AND WAS ON INTERNATIONAL TV AS A CONTENDER FOR MISS UNIVERSE AND ASKED WHAT I WISHED FOR MOST IN THE WORLD DURING THE Q&A SEGMENT, I WOULD WISH FOR:

10. The ability to condense my answers and questions and general speech into short concise sentences without rambling on and on and on and on like a retard.

9. Less usage of the word retard.

8. My fellow contestants to die. Failing that, for all of them to turn into Alanis Morrisette.

7.Because that would be cool.

6.Freaky, but cool.

5.To display my true talent instead of the bogus baton-twirling shit that i did 5 minutes ago, which is the ability to deep-throat a tree trunk and yet not get splinters stuck in my throat.

4. That the scandalus exposes that come out in the tabloids after my assured victory to be those involving me and my ex-boyfriend and not the ones where i'm mounting Spot.

3. That i had removed my left lung, appendix and spleen as well when i had my ribcage taken out so that my boobs can totally look bigger than Miss Argentina's.

2. That the audience had not laughed so loudly when the host mispronounced my name and introduced me as Marylou Twat.

1. World peace. Because, as my role model Michael Jackson once sang, "We are the world!". and everybody likes peace!

Coffee? good. Cigarettes? Good. Cigarettes with coffee? GOOD. Too much coffee with too many cigarettes? G-G-GOO-GOOD-GOO-GOO-GOOD!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!

NEWSFLASH!!!

ok, news trickle.

ok ok, so it's not technically news ....

Hotgirl's getting, well, hotter.

I have no idea why she keeps looking better and better to me (said with purely non-horny and non-food-related intentions), i mean, we haven't even exchanged a single sentence, and me being a blubbering retard who finds linoluem floors suddenly fascinating whenever we pass each other along the hallway, means that eye contact has not even been made.

yes, your friend is a sad case of the gone.

Guess what? After missing two days of work due to and incurable case of lazy-ass, i've just been educated, by way of my supervisor that the mammoth task of labeling letters and envelopes, while idiot-proof, is apparently not dada-proof.

Yes! Your friend, YOUR FRIEND, is so FUCKING RETARDED that she has managed to screw up a job that her 5-year-old cousin could do IN HIS SLEEP! WHILE SUCKING HIS THUMB! AND SHITTING INTO HIS DIAPERS!!!!

Trust me, if i had balls, i'd be squeezing them so hard they'd be blue-er then usual.

i know it's not that big a deal, just a simple screw-up yadda yadda, but, i'm already so nervy in the office that the slightest screw-up seems like the fuckage of the millenia; plus, i have this feeling that my supervisor thinks i'm incapable of doing anything but the simplest stuff, and this thing will only reinforce her convictions.

In happier news, me+6 hours d/ling for 5 days+brand spankin' new cd-burner=?????
a shitload of new listening material!!! YAY!!!

to a certain curly-haired someone: (Hi Sarsi! Heh.). i haven't d/led yr Neptunes yet. Will get rite on it tonite, k, please don't hurt me.. hoho.

Listening to: Sage Francis - Personal Journals
rap w/o the blingbling, hos, 40s, dope and with spoken word poetry. loving it so far.
Reading: The Princess Bride by William Goldman
Does it count as reading when you've only gotten thru the first 2 pages?
Waiting for: the guy with the INTENSIVE B.O to leave the office. I thought the smell was coming from me at first , but after an intensive scientific personal hygiene test on myself (i.e i lifted my arms and smelled my 'pits) that only refreshed my senses with the citrusy goodness of Clinique Happy, i came to the conclusion that some people just have v. bad B.O. That spreads. Like Skippy peanut butter on toast.

Mmm, peanut butter.

If you guys ever find me writing about maudlin sentimental shit infested with "sighs" "cute!!!" and full-length KRAzily spelled pages , about the EXCRUCIATINGLY MINUTE details of my/their 5- minute walk to Someplace, about EVERY SINGLE GODDAMN fart, cough, sneeze, writing novella-sized self-pity fest, with an ever-so-sensitive self-reflection and the 'oh, i'm so deep and wise read me READ ME LOVE ME' pretensions, PLEASE TAKE A CAB DOWN TO MY WORKPLACE, PRESS THE DOORBELL, (take your temperature first) WAKE ME UP, DRAG ME OUT OF MY CUBICLE, AND BRAIN ME WITH A BASEBALL BAT. HARD.

N and M, this does not refer to y'all k. A weak disclaimer is nobody's friend. And yes, i stole that from willow rosenberg. eliza dushku is HOT.

TEST

Going to town tonight. woohoo! i'm only woohooing cos that means i get to go to borders. and borders means cds! lucky i lost my nets card sial, or else confim tonight spend finish.

i'm really digging typing in Singlish, it's like a winzipped version of english.
come, let's compare.

E:i'm meeting tanto, an indo friend who's coming from out of town, for dinner.
S:i having dinner with tanto today, he coming back for a while only!

ok, this entry is really dumb, i don't wanna rewrite it, but i still wanna post something, so here it is.

P.S. "Sleater-Kinney rocks!", in any other language, is still "Sleater-Kinney rocks!"
well, maybe it would be "Sleater-Kinney power sia!" in Singlish.

i know no one cares, but i'm bored, so here it is:

TOP 5 FEMALE SINGER-SONGWRITER TYPES WHO ARE NOT IN A ROCK(INDIE, PUNK, WHATEVER) BAND

1: Cat Power
SONG THAT PROVES HER WORTHINESS OF BEING ON THIS LIST:
I Found a Reason
WHY THIS SONG?
I got goosepimpled arms and teary-eyed WHILE WALKING THRU WISTMA!!

2. SHANNON WRIGHT
SONG THAT PROVES HER WORTHINESS OF BEING ON THIS LIST:
Hinterland/Pay No Mind
WHY THESE SONGS?
I've heard them a gazillion times over and am still not sick of them. That's good enough


3. MIRAH
SONG THAT PROVES HER WORTHINESS OF BEING ON THIS LIST:
Recommendations
WHY THIS SONG?
Very catchy, plus i like how she uses unusual effects and instrumentals in her music.

4. NEKO CASE
SONG THAT PROVES HER WORTHINESS OF BEING ON THIS LIST:
I Wish I Was The Moon

5. ANI DIFRANCO

ok, TP finance just called, have to take time off to go pay late fee. hope my super approves sia.. no time to finish this list.. hoho

I HAVE A NEW CD-BURNER!!!!!!!!

how sad is my life that purchasing the above-mentioned was the highlight of the week?

but it's so pretty!!so sleek and shiny and new.. i tell ya, those filipino children may be underpaid and starving, but they sure know how to assemble pretty pretty hardware.

Yes, i am going to hell, but at least on the way there i'll have new cds to listen to... i imagine it'll be a pretty long ride. after all, it's HELL, not bedok or somewhere similarly convenient, like marine parade library.


________________________________________________________________


i was having a conversation with a friend yesterday, when it was pointed out to me that i have an easily combustable temper. Or, as he put it, 'you fucking scary sometimes sia!'

so i killed him.

ok, i didn't. but i thought about it. then settled for shouting at him. which proved his point.

i've noticed this about myself, btw, and in my defense, it's not always pure rage. i get only agitated when, for example, someone tells me they don't like, say, sleater-kinney that the words are falling all over each other when i try to speak and it all comes out as one squeaky mess.

rage is when, using the s-k example again, somebody tells me that sleater-kinney is 'retarded' and that i'm 'retarded' for liking them and that i have no taste in music and everything i like sucks.

ping. vessels on my temple begin to strain and pop. blood cells rush from their posts to squeeze into the headquarters (my head, for the uninformed. face actually, for better visual effect.) My face and hands start to burn, and my hands actually tremble. i'm at a loss for words, (which is very inconvenient when you're having an argument) partly because all the blood has crowded out the space in the brain needed for speech, and also cos i'm too busy fantasizing about kicking the shit out of the person.

i then turn an incredibly ugly shade of neon green and morph into a huge boulder of muscle, shredding all my clothes in the process with the exception of an extremely fey pair of purple boxers.

heh. how cool would THAT be?

no joke(the prev one aside), the urge to KILL or seriously hurt someone during these moments is so intense i have scars on my inner lips from biting down so hard. it's scary sometimes, to get SO pissed over trivial things.

of course, i don't actually DO any of the things i fantasize about, partly out of a (very well-concealed) sense of decorum, but mostly cos i'm chicken.

Listening to : I burned (!!!) 5 cds yesterday, so i'm busy rotating them. Mirah - Advisory Commitee's in my discman now.
Reading : Still working on No Logo.
Waiting for : Ronald Susilo to call me back.
Wondering if : He has a thick indo accent and also if i'll be able to understand thick indo accents.

hi y'all. not gonna do the haha!! shit today. feeling, i have no idea how i'm feeling actually.

let's start at the beginning, shall we?

in short, big flare-up involving me and two of my closest friends. or should i say ex-friend? not really sure now, and am really not feeling very friend-like towards one of them at the moment. just want a resolution, i suppose, but am sort of dreading the outcome.

heh. *in Chandler Bing voice* "could you BE any more cryptic?"

fuck off! like anyone reads this blog other then the three of you out there who already know what i'm talking about.

Listening to: Quasi - The Sword of God
just got it yesterday at borders. can't believe i spent FOUR hours trying to chose between 5 cds. (if anyone's interested, i was torn between the afore-mentioned SoG, another Quasi cd, Various artists doing Kinks covers, Dead Kennedys - Bedtime For Democracy, and a Melvins album. Eventually got the Kinks one and SoG)
Reading : No Logo by Naomi Klein
Picked it up a month ago, kept putting it away to read other books. i couldn't read more than a few pages before either getting too incensed to read further, or feel like a toyed-with puppet. that's one reason why i generally prefer to read fiction over non-fiction titles. depending on subjects, of course, but the former usually provides a form of escapism while the other usually forces me to face "the real world". And it is nearly always depressing.

TOP 10 FAVOURITE CDS OF THE WEEK

01. Sleater-Kinney - Dig Me Out
I've listened to this cd at least 30 times since the beginning of the year, but i never seem to tire of it, unlike other cds (cough, Yeah Yeah Yeahs) which i can throw aside after a few days. the handclaps in 'Turn It On' get me everytime. Plus, I have, have, HAVE to play air guitar everytime i hear the opening riff of 'Dig Me Out'. Air guitar? Cool, well, never actually, but much less so when you're standing in a packed bus with aunties whose idea of good music is the fucking 'SARS-vivor' rap and who're looking at you like you just reached out and grabbed their right tit.

Speaking of PCK, if any Islam fundamentalists are planning to carry out bombings in Singapore, can i please suggest the PCK set in MediaCorp? If anyone deserves to die, its that curly-haired freak*. You'd think that in the gazillion numbers of years he's been doing construction a huge chunk of ceiling would have dropped on him already. Now THAT'S a script worth writing! hohoho..

*in case there actually is any cause for legal action, (you never know, this is Singapore after all, home of illegal chewing gum) i would like to offer the lame-ass disclaimer that i am merely crapping out of my ass and have no actual wish to see any part of our wonderful nation bombed. Well, maybe the Perfect 10 studios when Jamie Yeo is hosting. But maybe they could just lightly singe her hair. Enough so that she'd be so ashamed of going out in public and to work and she'll quit her job to stay at home and wait for her hair to grow out so that I WON'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO HER 'UMMS' AND 'AHS' WHEN I'M PLAYING POOL!!!! AND LOSING AT POOL!!! BECAUSE OF GETTING SO PISSED OFF AT HER!!!!


Yes. i get angry at incredibly retarded things. And i like to ramble. Sue me. Not you though, Govt of S'pore. Not you either, Jamie Yeo.

Ok, this ranting's made me too tired go on bout my other 9 favourite cds, so i'm calling it my TOP FAVOURITE CD OF THE WEEK. !!! !!!

Don't sue me, ok? I have no money! I just lost my wallet!! Go sue Kris. She deserves it; she's depriving me of my live Bangs experience.

I need help, people. Seriously.

I've spent 10, count 'em, TEN FUCKING MINUTES twirling a paper clip on my pen to count how many times it would rotate.

i've also, in the space of these three days:

stapled my finger to see whether it'd hurt (it didn't, cos i was too chicken to staple anywhere but my callused fingers, hoho)

drooled on the office documents i was pretending to read while actually being asleep

attempted a diy nostril enema with a bottle of water and a straw.

and trust me, once you've tried sucking water through your nose, you know there's no lower to sink.

and how sad is it that i'm actually LOOKING FORWARD to Selvan's visit??!!

also, because of the walking abortion who stole my wallet which had my access card THAT I HAVE TO PAY $30 I DON'T HAVE TO GET A REPLACEMENT FOR, i can't even sneak out to smoke.

oh well, at least i can pretend that i'm quitting.

and y es, i'm aware of the fact that this post is nothing but a long list of complains, and i will currently be consuming some cheese to go along with my whine.

HAHAHAHOHOHO!!! !!!

listening to: bangs - sweet revenge
reading : a letter of mary by laurier r. king. It's more interesting than the next book in the series, i think, because this one spends much less time describing the bloody countryside and i don't have to read five pages consisting of leafy trees and flowery flowers before something happens.
waiting for : the rain to stop so i'll stop feeling like i need to pee..
lyric currently stuck in my head: the chorus of 'undo everything' off Sweet Revenge. So cheesy, yet SOOO good.. sign..