the best way to start a holiday
is to completely pig out on alcohol and chicken wings.
As I told A. tonight, you know you've grown up when the free gift of a public holiday makes you want to cry with gratitude. How sad is that?
Had a great time as usual, except that one day I am sooooo going to be caught for drunk driving and I will SO TOTALLY COMPLETELY deserve it.
But I'm going to quit smoking by the end of the year and surely that should count for something? Yes? Please?
In the meantime - a full day of sleep and slacking and catching up with the books I bought over the weekend. And possibly more drinks. I love drinks. Drinks drinks drinks.
I am so fucking drunk.
Oh also I bought a bag today. Cheap some more, only $700+. But I still felt a slight twinge of yuppie guilt, until I came home to find my mum parading her new diamond ring - amidst A SEA OF OTHER IDENTICAL RINGS - which cost a multiple of what I'd paid for my bag. Then I felt better.
Am happy. :)
posted by zyn ::
2:30 AM ::
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family
Is it fair to dismiss homophobic people as close-minded and bigoted? Surely they have as much right to their views as the rest of us open-minded and more sophisticated people do.
When it comes down to it, it's not so much what you really believe, but how you manage to hide it. Or, at least, how you try not to let it affect your dealings with people. So for as long as I can't get along with homophobic or brainless people - or even act like they're tolerable - I guess I shouldn't talk so much about bigotry.
posted by zyn ::
2:01 AM ::
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playground politics
I get a lot of flak for being elitist, even though I am sooooo not. One of our interns at work, for instance, comes up to me and says, "We're doing a feature on elitist people, can I interview you?" Very rude. Interns these days, no big no small.
Anyway there are a thousand and one people who are more elitist than me. Starting with, probably, the elitism reporter. (Haha.) And the person who told me tonight that I should not go out with people who were deemed uncool in primary/secondary school because "it's playground politics lah" and "it never goes away one".
Compelling argument, you say? As not only a bullheaded contrarian but someone who is genuinely attracted to uncool people (as my dear friends keep pointing out), I beg to differ. Uncool people have their merits. For one thing, they don't wear sunglasses (or caps) indoors. They also typically look all cute and dorky and baulk in the most endearing way at the pricetag on a Paul Smith shirt. And, most importantly, they don't sit around at The Cannery pretending to enjoy themselves and substituting camera-clicking for conversation.
However, it must be said that most people who were uncool in primary/secondary school - and felt it - tend to overcompensate in their later life. This translates into several kinds of behaviours, including the sunglasses thing. The truth is, if you were once categorised as uncool, it will take a lot to change that image of yourself in your own head, which means you will never stop trying. Also, people bitch freely, so chances are everyone you newly meet will one day meet someone you once knew who thought (and still thinks) of you as uncool. This is why your reputation is so important from the very first time you form one.
Me, I was far from cool in school. And I just bought sunglasses. Woohooooo.
* * * * * *
Last week's weekly CD shopping spree: I squashed a deep-seated hatred of Michael Buble to buy It's Time because it has my favourite oldie song on it. Unsurprisingly, I totally regret buying it now. The CD sucks. Michael Buble sucks. I can't muster up any respect for it or him. And, as people keeping pointing out, I could have just downloaded the song.
The new Maroon 5 CD fared better, although I'm a bit paiseh to tell people I like Maroon 5. Hehe.
My Chemical Romance was, as I. warned, "very noisy leh".
All in all, I have to say my best buy last week was A-Mei's The Power of Love compilation. Really very diva. Very shiok.
posted by zyn ::
3:52 AM ::
12 Comments ::
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the argument for staying single
It's so sad to see international figures brought down by human relationships. First there was Clinton and then McGreevey, then this year BP CEO John Browne and Wolfowitz.
And now I find out that Illidan Stormrage (aka Illidan the Betrayer), the powerful demon who controls the Black Temple, turned to the dark side because - the night elf he loved chose his twin brother over him!!
What a wuss. Seriously.
* * * * * *
For those as bored as me, check this out: how to lose weight without dieting or exercise, courtesy of an equally-bored Darren.
posted by zyn ::
3:06 PM ::
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in memory
Today, May 19, this blog (and its owner) will observe a day of silence in respect for great love and great courage.
Funeral Blues - W H Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone.
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows around the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
posted by zyn ::
12:00 AM ::
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"it's just a game, not a job" <-- quote of the year
Wasn't going to update for a while but then MAJOR EMO GUILD DRAMA so I had to record it for posterity. Which got me thinking (not to get all Carrie Bradshaw), why are we all so ghoulishly fascinated with other people's major emo dramas? I guess it's simple - we are all SHAMELESS VOYEURS who take SECRET PLEASURE in living vicariously through the more happening people in this world. And also because then we can analyze and criticize and judge and fudge and retell anecdotes with exaggerated facial expressions and hand gestures. (Spot the odd word out in the sentence.)
So fun!
Actually quite sad.
But more fun.
posted by zyn ::
2:11 AM ::
3 Comments ::
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sunday night wrap
"If you could have any superpower," I asked D. the other night, "what would it be?"
"I don't suppose I can have a superpower that would allow me to have all the other superpowers I wanted, huh," he replied.
"No," I said. "Don't be a smartass."
Eventually he picked "being able to be happy all the time". Which, I thought, was a crap superpower because Happyman just doesn't cut it. But he argued that the only thing everyone really wants is to be happy, so that was the best superpower.
But is that really true? Is a constant state of happiness really the ultimate goal in everyone's life? If so, that would make me weird again, because I don't want to be happy all the time. In fact, being depressed or worried or stressed or angry at appropriate intervals would - without arguing semantics - please me, more than being absolutely and unwaveringly happy all the time.
Take this week, for instance. I didn't work at all. I spent the whole week just - trying to be happy, and for the most part succeeding. I read books, watched videos, went to the gym, met up with friends, had lots of drinks and conversation, drove around, did shopping and beauty stuff, ate good food, and even tried out increasingly experimental recipes. Cooking, in particular, makes me happy. I haven't cooked since the year I spent every other weekend in a little studio kitchenette in New York. So - I spent a week being happy. And yet I wasn't.
Because being happy isn't enough to make me happy. I don't want to be just happy. Happy is such a mediocre word, and we all know mediocrity is a fate worse than death. (Or, in this case, worse than unhappiness.) I want to be challenged, I want to be overworked, to be fighting deadlines one night and pissing drunk the next and over-repentantly pious the night after that. I want conversations in which people argue and get passionate and clever and bitchy, not those where there's bland happy agreement all round. I want unpleasantness and drama and tension. I don't want happy.
So if I could choose a superpower, as most of the people with whom I've discussed this know, I would pick teleportation. Because I'm really lazy.
In other news, I now have The Sun Eater and Crest of the Sha'tar. Am 12 badges of justice away from Farstrider Defender's Cloak and god knows how many heroic ramparts/BF runs away from Lion's Heart Girdle/Eaglecrest Warboots. The other day Marcus pointed out that my helm wasn't really worth it, and I guess the epic belt isn't really for tanking either. But as I told him - I just enjoy having epixxx. Hehe.
Actually I'm getting a bit bored of the game. Zynfandel can't really upgrade much without Kara and my guild is too emo to organise raids. In the meantime I'm too lazy to level my brother's level 45 dwarf priest and too sian to start all over with my draenei shaman (Chyanti) or my gnome mage (Shyraz) or the other Zynfandel, my gorgeous blood elf mage on Gorgonnash, which I only play when the Oceanic servers are down. WoW is just taking up too much time. I need a new hobby. Maybe wakeboarding. :)
posted by zyn ::
1:15 AM ::
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why women make bad drivers
I was originally going to write a post on Why We Should Decriminalise Homosexuality And Instead Impose Life Sentences For Bigotry Because Surely It's More Dangerous To Let Low-IQ Idiots Run Around Masquerading As Assistant NUS Professors - but the title got too long.
Anyway, after spending a week with a car, this is my list. I know not all women are bad drivers (although I have yet to meet a good female driver) and that several men are also bad drivers (I've met several of those), but this is just in general. Don't get particular on my ass or I will ram you down with my car.
1. They get emotional about driving
See immediately preceding statement.
I must admit this is not true about all female drivers. But I seldom get as incensed about idiocy as I do when I'm on the road (or checking work email). Most people who've been passengers in my car have heard the standard "FUCKING moron keep to your own FUCKING lane you MOTHERFUCKER". They generally politely ignore me and remain good friends. I appreciate that.
2. Their attention wanders
Driving downtown for my facial on Tuesday, I started thinking about what I should have for dinner that night, and whether I could be bothered to cook the ginseng chicken soup that my sister gave me the recipe for, in which case I would have to go buy some chicken, and what would be better, chicken legs or chicken wings, and where could I buy chicken that wouldn't involve heavy traffic and expensive parking, and was it on the way home from the CBD or would I have to make a huge detour, and how hungry would I be by that time, and maybe trying to get to a supermarket by 6.30pm was too ambitious, so perhaps I should just go out and buy dinner after all...
And before I knew it I was in a CTE tunnel and couldn't for the life of me recall whether the next exit was Orchard or Havelock Rd. Of course it was Havelock, so I had to cross 4 lanes in about 4 seconds. Bad driver.
3. They make split second decisions but don't have the balls to carry them out
COUNTLESS EXAMPLES. None of them involve me. I make split second decisions and heaven help whoever is behind me and in the lane immediately to my left. But several times my contented cruising has been ruined by idiot drivers who make sudden swerves into my lane, THEN turn on the signal, THEN decide they can't possibly change lane ahead of me after all (usually because I've sped up by this point). And EVERY SINGLE TIME I drive past these drivers, I turn around to glare at them - and they are invariably women. Bad drivers.
4. They turn to glare at other drivers
Self-explanatory. ALL bad drivers.
5. They put on makeup in the car
Having aircon blast full into your face has a drying effect. For your lips especially. About 1.5 minutes after I pull out of my driveway my lips start drying up and I take one hand off the wheel to rummage in my bag for lip balm.
Cluttered female bags + small-sized lip balms + one-hand driving + inherent genetic psychomotor inferiority = Bad Driver.
* * * * * *
I can't believe my week of freedom is over. *mournful*
posted by zyn ::
2:26 AM ::
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work in progress
It looks wrong, especially the sidebar, but I'm not sure why. Also have had three beers, and VERY STUPIDLY saved this template over the last one, so I've completely lost the old design. I am an idiot. Suggestions more than welcome.
posted by zyn ::
9:33 PM ::
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