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| May 3 2012, 22:35pm |
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A long time ago, when I first started travelling, I told someone I was looking for that moment when I would look up from my espresso and go "you know... I kindda miss my mother."
I've since given up coffee altogether. I've since travelled to the furtherest distance I can go on this planet from where I'd started. I've since won and lost, reached beyond the edges of my "Self", failed and succeeded, become at once more and less than who and what I was when I'd began. Not all of it good, not all of it bad. I've learnt, somehow, beyond all expectation, to mellow. I've forgotten, somehow, against the odds, the trick of invulnerability.
And it's the darnedest thing, I think, just maybe, I could be homesick (except that's not quite right either because A.home has always been, to me, something I carry with me, and B.it's completely and utterly inexplicable, there is not any particular thing I miss about that geography or any particular reason to miss it or anything-- still, there must be something to it when you subconsciously set your searches to that place so far away? And when the word tastes accurate inside your head before you've fully registered what it is and means?)
Still not missing her though. |
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| Dec 31 2011, 15:13pm |
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i don't know how else to do better.
i feel like an idiot for even trying, for ever doubting that i wasn't already doing as I could in my way.
i feel that it truly doesn't matter anyway.
i feel like an idiot for wanting/holding on to some shared thing more than the other person(s).
i know he doesn't want to deal with it. Deal with me. Deal with this.
i feel some days like he's just waiting for me to finish renovating his closet before turning me out. |
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| Dec 24 2011, 18:00pm |
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“有事钟无艳，无事夏迎春”
总是这么两句话.
真意应该是叫女孩子运用这两面吧？我总是觉得是这样.
可惜就是学不来 学不好.
人并不完美
其实也不需要完美
只要能勉强合拍伴步就够了.
就这么点底线都做不到的人到底有多失败? |
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| updates |
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| Jun 21 2011, 14:08pm |
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srsly CA, wtf is wrong with you?
yep, wave your flags for riot sympathy, we KNOW it's just a stupid stunt. I've heard enough from you lot pre-game to know this. you planned it, you... there's no english word for this.
yep, riots are scary, horrible, zomg we're not all like this etc etc etc.
you planned this. you let this happen. just like '95.
this wasn't a reaction to losing the cup, the game was an excuse for this great publicity stunt. Lookitme ma! I was in a riot! I was there! and the tourists. jeez =_= everyone's a paparazzi here hah. everyone's trying to be a celebrity.
and the media, it's all "well, we're not like this" and "mob mentality", all apologist... this is what's wrong. you apologise for their bad behaviour instead of publicly condemn them. you arrest them, but nothing truly serious happens (except for the guy who was on the olympics team, sux to be him now). All the attention is focused on "chin up everyone, we're better than that, oh look at our wonderful community effort" not to condemn the community effort or make light of the people who're upset about it, but the focus is all wrong. sweeping it under the carpet isn't going to get people to stop the next time world attention is focused here. you NEED public ridicule. You need to pull them up on TV and go "dude what were you thinking?" and shame them so the kids after them don't get to thinking "heheh that's gonna be so cool on youtube".
bleh. |
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| stumped by a 2-grade question! |
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| May 23 2011, 10:27am |
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... was afraid of when this would happen >.<
I'm meant to be writing, not sourcing NDS emulators and trying to make odd games work and then moping about my deteriorated gamer skillz. I think I can actually feel my brain de-volving.
I got super scribblenauts to work, hah... and got stumped at level 3 with the racecar pitstop... what are three things cars need to run? I had tires, engine, and... ... ??? It's not petrol/gas (which spawns as an unlit molotov cocktail haha... or maybe that's just me =_= )
Laundry list of fails:
Am 1 procrastinating day away from completing the M&M-CoH campaign.
The G5's all ready to go.
Still tripping over storage items in what's technically "my" office.
Was meant to be 3 to 5000 words in by the time ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=92.1) lilian_cho came around to visit today. Only about 10% done.
Want to live in some place warm, because altho there's less to be done about being too warm, I hurt less and was able to still function. Cold just makes me want to stay in bed and vegetate.
Afraid to open WMP due to the mess in the playlist library. Not keen on sorting that out. But is another time-sink/procrastination tool.
Broke hotmail. No more MSN.
On the upside, the canon printer sold (finally. gawd the locals are an insanely cheap and nasty lot) and I got lamps (yay light). |
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| This Dice is Loaded |
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| May 16 2011, 11:16am |
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weeks behind on making up a regular schedule and going back to some kind of normalcy and sorting out this room. Granted half the delay is financial juggling, the other half really shouldn't be happening at all. I should have known better, really. the minute i relented to putting hings away in cardboad boxes, I should have known a third of it would never make it out. (at least it's not my third >.> )
i keep meaning to grow stuff and not getting there, despite it being just outside the window. It's not like it's hard... just rake out the blackberry roots and branches and throw down some wildflower fill ad strawberry. just as long as it holds the sod together and isn't dead, right?
We've now reached the point where the tales I'm labouring to get out in coherency are sounding completely inane and too juvenile/crap to even be bothered with.
Also, that greatest of evils known as console emulators.
At least while I was on a mac i could tell myself that there doesn't exist one that'd work properly yet and avoid such distractions as ndsr.net......
I'm rigged to lose. |
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| of EGL ladies I hesitate to right-out call mine, and lightframe choppers |
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| May 12 2011, 11:59am |
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In a fantastical fevered sort of dream last night, I slid into an alt universe, in which I trasversed the globe on some sort of top secret clandestine capacity for social sciences, and Amika was in the military and wore black leather instead of lilac eyeshadow. On a rare trip back to SG, which somehow also involved me reporting back to some kind of "school" facility to complete the latest phase of an annoying project with the typical weak-spined members and tear-away narcissist, we made plans to meet before I had to report in, but a series of mundane schedule conflicts and such cased us to have to cancel and meet afterwards instead. Also in background information, I'd by chance exchanged a few lines of chat with Steph, whom I'd informed I was going to be in town.
So while I was soothing egos and morales and wrapping up this first phase of whatever this project was, someone runs in from security to tell me that the President of the SCC was here to see me, as though this was a big deal, and as though he did not quite believe she was President of SCC company. I head out the door, thinking Steph'd somehow independently found me, when I saw that what she'd done was found Am and hitched a ride. There was irony in the security telling me about Steph but not Am, since Am was in the military (ergo more import). and piloting a Chopper. As in, a helicopter.
It was one of those stripped down things that's essentially just a light-weight frame in shiney black. Am was standing next to it, in black leather with a leather bomber jacket, her proper pilot uniform one, over the top; and Steph was arranged Princess-like in the back seat equivilent, wearing a victorian coat of satin-edged black lace and a red camilla in her hair. She looked for all the world like she travelled by lightframe chopper all the time until she actually had to move from her pose/spot, at whih point she showed her fear of it with good-nature comedy.
So hugs, kisses, teases, wardrobe adjustment for flying at altitudes, running back in for my bags: the black canvas messenger one I've had since college and a professional videocam bag, and swinging into the co-pilot seat, running my fingers over the controls with a lustful wonder while Am smirked with some pride on account of this being her personal vehicle, and while we circled the air above the city, the usual "where to for dinner?" "dunno, you choose?" and the rolling of eyes pointing out that I'd only just set foot back in this city for the first time in 8 years and had no idea what's here anymore? And the awkward momentary shuffle where we realise that none of us really knew either and the resulting shame as was drilled into us from singaporean civics class, a moment that faded quickly as we quickly solved by trying to determine who was last here most recently and making it their responsibility (hah). Although thinking about it now, I'm not sure why we didn't jsut get Steph to call her company concierge. |
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| gardening is able-bodied people's business |
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| May 11 2011, 11:38am |
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Neighbour #3 weighs in on the great garden massacre:
"ZOMG YOU CUT DOWN OUR BUSHES!!! Well clean it up fuck you or we'll fine you!!!" (paraphrased) in a handwritten note.
First of all, it's our fucking bushes. they live on our level, within our property line. You live UPSTAIRS. You don't get bushes. unless you grow them off your own balcony.
Secondly, come down here and knock on the door. tell me to my fucking tiny asian face, and I'll cough on you and show you how fucking sick I've been in the 4 days I haen't been carting those damn things out. And point out that I'm one single sick kid-sized female trying to clear all that stuff out ON MY OWN, into the garbage which will only take a few branches at a time anyway. And I'll smile thinly and tell you to fucking send your big teenaged sons down to HELP ME if you want to see that stuff GONE.
Thirdly, I've cleaned up enough of your leftover pizzas, garbage, buttends and used condoms to warrant that bit of respect I think. You don't see me hauling all that garbage upstairs to leave at your door!
But right now I just want to set fire to this bloody place. |
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| Writer's Block: See you on the dark side |
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| May 2 2011, 15:07pm |
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indeed I shall. it would be an excellent opportunity to survey earth for my eminent invasion, also a good advance scout mission to find a good vantage point for commanding its climatic implosion. |
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| And when this castle collapses, will you call it my fault too? |
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| May 1 2011, 15:19pm |
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the story goes, wife01 did accounts for the isp, then decided that she didn't want to do them anymore, causing it to fall to the hands of rival, who then was able to take the company since he owned the accounts; among other things.
it's another life, another company, another set of books, 10 years later. wife02 took over the books because original accountant made a mess of them and almost caused the enterprise to fold. just to get things in order. but has been stuck doing them eversince because he couldn't be bothered to. It needs to be noted that this enterprise is scrutinised based on monthly reports, rather than annual, so week-to-week and month-to-month figures are much more important.
of course, this makes it wife02's fault everytime something doesn't go magically mechanically perfect, even though she doesn't have any actual control over anything, is unable to tap into the company account, and especially not the budget/data. it makes budget recomendations "nagging". makes proposed cost-cutting and number-juggling efforts "ridiculous (evil)". the only rescue efforts that really go through are small ones she's able to sneak in without discussion with anyone else.
then a truly collossal fight breaks out over some major deficit that wife02 spends 2 days to juggle in when he didn't like how he'd look affecting those measures; the fight goes "i don't see were the deficit could have come from", to "you can't do this (it'll damage my pride as a generous boss and philantropist)", to "well, if you stop skimming..." which is complete crap because wife02 does not have 2 cents of her own to rub together. EVERYTHING she makes ends up back in the household. The entire basis for the accusation is "you hold the books. I don't keep an eye on the money, so you have every opportunity to". Certainly true, if there were extras to be skimmed.
so wife02 blows a gasket at this point and throws the books at him minus the measures she was trying to put in to rescue the situation. FINE. YOU do it. And maybe while you're at it I can get paid for all the free thankless hours I put into all this.
Fuck you.
but there now exists the soft-place. this could certainly be interpreted as "she decided not to do the books any more" and when he can't be bothered to deal with them and passes them on, it can certainly be retold as "and let it fall into wrong hands". And knowing just how fragile these books and the enterprise are, it would not surprise me at all if this is the beginning of its end.
It's funny how the world is made and run for the ingrates. |
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| Two-thirds! |
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| May 1 2011, 0:03am |
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and now the mess is just because i'm a messy tired bunny.
The rest is stuff I can't move because 1. there's no place to move it to yet and 2. i have weak flabby girl arms and stunted asian height. to wit, a semi-antique dresser, and a 6ish feet tall mirror.
and then i'll be able to put in something comfortable to sit on, and drive myself crazy about how to replace the carpet and repair the paintwork. |
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| Gardening Philosophy: Annual Massacre |
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| Apr 29 2011, 21:54pm |
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Sunlight, the inalienable right of all living things, including homosapiens such as myself and plants, such as the bushes of things which i've never bothered to identify surrounding our windows. Arguably, plants have more need for sunlight than humans. Sadly, we do not live in a need-based society, rather, a violence-based one. And the fact of the matter is this: when plants do not gain enough sunlight, they starve and wither; when sharen does not get enough sunlight, she goes out and purchases a tree-saw and hacks the plants down for getting in her way.
sure, they'll grow back, but that's okay. the point is not total annihilation, i am not against the green or ecology. it is simply so that when they do, they'll think twice about defiling my breathing domain.
and no gardening episode is complete without word from the neighbours:
[nextdoor] shares their patio space along the same stretch as our windows. The bush attacked today stands in tandem to one that blocks her patio from, well, exposure. She comes out and sits there smoking about half-way through my afternoon, and keeps quiet for 2 hours, coming in and out, until finally, about when I was done taking down the bush and starting on clearing the dead blackberry,
"oh, are you taking down the bushes?"
me: "um... yea, was just trimming down my side and clearing the dead blackberry... why? would you like me to take it all down?"
"no, I liked it the way it was."
WELL. you should have spoken up 2 hours ago then shouldn't you?
me: "it was choking out my window. don't worry, it's growing season, it'll grow back..." (insert made up bs about the bushes' physiology. damn thing's not recovering for years, i've taken it pretty much apart down to the stumps this time. i'd have dug it out if i could >.> )
"oh, that's good about the dead stuff. Do you think this is dead? *points at a leafless tree on her property blocking her sun/shade*"
bitch. I declared it living without looking at it.
[down the hall, barely in the same wing of the building] complains loudly down the hall about how "someone" "completely ruined the visage of the building down one side by hacking down the bushes" and what a horrible muck-up job they did, why, her and her friends could have done a much better job of it...
Why, thank you, __, I'm sure they would have if they ever turned up, which, they never did, btw; maybe i wouldn't have had to go out there myself and laid waste to everything if you'd actually come through with all your kindly offers of help and support in our apartment vs wild problems instead of SAY you'd get it sorted and basically ignore us for 4 years, and I wouldn't have to listen to your complaints EVERY YEAR about the SAME DAMN THING. Besides, we'reon the arse end of the building that backs up onto he preservation/creek. there IS no VISAGE. The only thing we're going to offend with un-shrubbed windows are the squirrels and 'coons and baby rats. And bears that mistake our patio for more wild because they can't find the fence under the shrubbery. |
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| For the Nights I Can't Remember |
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| Apr 27 2011, 16:53pm |
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mood: my brain may be certified
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things are still a mess, the closet needs ripping out, the bushes need hacking, the storage closet needs converting, the carpets need replacing, things need painting... but a third of The Room is cleared out and mostly organised, the laptop desk is assembled, I even got around to unpacking That One Bag. the g5 is 2/3 backed up, and i'd promised myself i wouldn't write about the 2 events taking place that're bugging me the most and therefore not dwell upon them.
gotta get my music onto Ikari soon, before the Hedley album outplays itself heh. I keep turning around to put discs in and go "oh yea, i opted driveless for a reason!" it's working. No "Vampire:Redemption" or WC3 replays, or Evil Genius (hurrah).
next week, a schedule, and to ignore everything that's wrong and descend into denial and escapism.
( and in the meantime, a start... ) |
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| progress |
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| Apr 26 2011, 1:43am |
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mood: Perfect // Scream // Hedley
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IKARI desktop
(annnnd somehow blew up my align posting this....) |
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| Requiem |
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| Apr 22 2011, 1:31am |
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it's ironic, hun, that it's when i finally let go of the obligation to have a personal relationship with you that i started becoming the sort of chick who could properly live with you. Don't mind me, I'm just the caterer.
it is true, a guy and a girl cannot be friends without some sort of... (you say "romantic", we say "dubious") 曖昧-ness involved, there's a deeper psych paper in that one, but there is no stipulation on when that should occur, and for how long it lasts. Meanwhile, guys trudge along in the fantasy that their female friends are great sources of feminine companionship without the obligations of relationship, and girls trundle along in the fantasy that their male friends are males with potential dormant interest in them, spares, if you will. Of course you could argue the exception not the rule, and the muddiness of various gender identity issues, but that wasn't the point being raised.
once upon a time, a mutual third party accused us of being the same person, except they couldn't decide which was the sock puppet. it was a cute notion, back when both you and i were healthier, though the irony is the worse we individually got, the more fucked up we each drove ourselves to be, the more similar we became. i don't think we are at a point of convergence, i hope we never do (that'll just be disastrous, though in some abstract romantic sense, a shame).
I remember being 15, 16, and the catchword was "corruption", as in, corrupting or tainting someone else, "introducing them to the dark side". the hypothesis could be made that you corrupted me (oh poor sweet young thing heh) based solely on you being the elder, but can that really be true if you didn't really teach me anything at all? Except the secret behind women's attraction to your type. by example. And can it truly be so one-sided if you consider the blemishes I've put on your life and psyche? ALthough now that i think about it, i'm not actually certain what impact i've made on you in the decades we've known each other. i know the ones i think i made, but what about the ones you think? and that we mutually agree on? hm.
we'd sell each other up the river in a heartbeat, he says, in some kind of explanation of how abysmally miserable the companionship between us is.
yea, i did not reply, that's why i won't go down to the river with you <3 |
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| smile lightly, because they can't tell if you're smiling through the pain or in derision at it all |
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| Apr 19 2011, 16:34pm |
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a long time ago, Shawn made me a rune charm from a pebble we stole from a mall terrace and a scrap of pencil he carried everywhere with him. he called it Wynn, or Wunjo, the elder rune of the potential of joy, for health, optimism, and overall well-wishing. because he was afraid that anything stronger would be easy to get wrong. And i carried that rock everywhere, in the bottom of my favourite bag, next to my Londa tarot deck, and held on to it muchly, secretly rubbed it when nervous, which was often, for many years.
today, wading through the mad stacks of stuff, i realised first that it was missing -- which could be innocent enough, i often misplace things by relocating them to more secure locales -- until trying to remember when i'd last seen it, i realised it's been years since i'd last seen it; and another little piece of my heart wincedcringedwringed and necrified.
also, coughed to the point of regurgitation and reflected that i should have chewed my lunch better. |
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| endless loop |
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| Mar 30 2011, 10:43am |
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in my dreams i am endlessly packing and unpacking, household items, food, clothes, toiletries... everything. I keep leaving this place going "meh it'll be fine don't worry about it" and coming back to "finish the job" but there's just so much stuff and it's not even our place, nor the rochester place, though in the dream it was a similar temporary living thing; and the stuff wasn't even really my stuff, though it was certainly "our stuff"... there was a lot of clothes. and bits and pieces. closet full of female clothing i neither own nor want. food, raw veg and frozen meats, and funnily, packaged abalone. computer stuff, always seems to have left one old computer behind (and the bits where i'd arrive with bob to finish the job and he'd get bored and think we should go after 5 minutes and i fob him off with offers of putting WoW on an existing old computer) which for some reason i never get around to packing
.... why is there so much stuff??? |
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| SOMEONE HELP DIG ME OUT FROM THESE BOXES NAOOOWWWW ;;_;; |
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| Mar 28 2011, 14:24pm |
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I find my icons unsatisfactorily lacking in a bleeding-tears-o-god-why icon--- but then i remember that I craft my icons thusly to restrict myself to acceptable tones and moods, hence why there is no weepy dying stickman clinging onto other stickmen begging for... whatever it is. And the thought that that's pretty dysfunctional as a mere human female not in complete health at the best of times and all alone in a strange and hostile environment.
I'm still in my mind referencing places that do not exist here, and flipping through travelogues of c-friends, places that have ceased to exist there since then.
Also, possibly, am more drugged than i let on.
i needsa posse that includes handy boys and girls, vehicular mobility, and people i trust enough to tell stories to and let in my kitchen. |
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