Tuesday, October 31, 2006
The Friend With The Great Personality
This is a post dedicated to all my girls and all my guys...Who:
.....are absolutely fabulous.....
.....have the largest personalities.....
.....and the biggest charismas.....
.....make the funniest jokes.....
.....light rooms up just by entering them.....
.....own stages.....
.....have hearts with enormous capacities.....
.....are intelligent.....
.....are exceptionally talented.....
.....have amazing determination and character.....
.....work hard for everything they've gotten in life.....
.....everyone turns to for advice.....
And yet, still, remain single for the sole reason that they're not considered mainstream hot, or mainstream Relationship Material.
You are.
Trust me.
You know why?
Because a fatheaded little kid who sits inside my head told me so.
Monday, October 30, 2006
Dear Idiotfaced Retardheaded Weaseljack....
.....Perfect Guy......Ok.
So MAYBE...just MAYBE...I was kinda supposed to maybe be over you sort of.
But would you PLEASE stop finding NEW WAYS to be perfect?
He cooks.
He's been a navy cadet.
He drums, in a band that's doing WELL.
He's thoughtful, he remembers obscure things that you tell him at random.
He's got style.
He's intelligent.
He's a gentleman (PULLS OUT BLOODY CHAIRS FOR YOU).
He has MORAL VALUES (Rare in these parts!).....
I hate him SO much!!!!!!!!!!!
I wish he'd HURRY UP and get with blonde bimbybot chick and stop giving me hope.
I'm starting to hate hope. It's this horrible little monster that gradually eats away your vital organs.....you FEEL the warmth at first and feel good.....
Without realizing that it's slowly, slowly burning your heart.
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Sad
I was about to name this post, "Woman, thy husband is an idiot."
But I can't possibly be so deliberately bitchy with the people that raised me.....because I know that I'm just extremely angry now and must not make any rash decisions that will end up hurting me more.
Why this post then, you ask.
Well, first and foremost, this blog is where I dump my emotions when I'm scared my diary will be found and when I can't put into rhyme what I feel.....this is usually because feelings I write about are alien: pity for a fictional autistic boy: sorrow for the child who was dumped by his mother, when I really couldn't ever relate to her.
That's when I blog, when the feeling I'm experiencing hits me so deeply at my core, that I can't dissociate myself from it and put it into lyrical poetry.
I am deeply sad....not depressed, not despondent, none of those bigass words that older people use to describe a pure feeling that's been corrupted by the desire to sound intelligent.
I am just.....sad. The word a five year old uses. A seven year old. A six year old. I use the word sad because I feel that age now, when you just want to cry out of sheer frustration and despair.
I realize that as long as I live under the same roof as my father......I will never respect him.
When dad lived in KL and us in Brunei, he was objective and intelligent...he gave great advice that solved the problem.
Not advice that was tailored and effing cookie cut like out of some effing parenting book.
It's not just that.
He has this idiotic pathological need to be in control of situiations WHERE THERE WAS NO CONTROL ISSUE.
And to find fault where there IS none.
I wonder if he realizes that I'm the ONE daughter he hasn't managed to alienate with his condescension, his complete lack of tact, his unjustified need to find fault and character flaws where they DON'T EXIST. He has three.
"It's because you're at the AGE ma, where you feel your parents are always wrong! It's soon you'll realize how wrong you are!" I WILL NOT BE TURNED INTO THE FOOLISH, REBELLIOUS, PARANOID TEENAGER WHEN MY SENSE OF JUDGEMENT IS BETTER THAN ANYTHING YOU'VE DISPLAYED OVER THE PAST FEW MONTHS.
"Your butt is spending too long on the computer. I want you to go study NOW." I WILL NOT BE MADE TO FEEL LIKE THE LITTLE FLAWS I DISPLAY AS A NORMAL, STABLE INDVIDUAL MAGNIFY TO ENORMOUS PROPORTIONS AND SCAR ME, ESPECIALLY NOT AFTER SPENDING FOUR EFFING HOURS STUDYING.
"You see, you never help us. I TOLD you to get the photos on the computer! Why can't you do this ONE THING to help your parents!" I WILL NOT BE UNJUSTIFIEDLY MADE TO FEEL GUILTY FOR THINGS THAT AREN'T MY FAULT, AND ARE IN FACT DUE TO YOUR OWN STUPIDITY: I CAN'T GET PICTURES INTO A DAMN COMPUTER WITHOUT A USB OR A MEMORY CARD THAT FITS THE DAMN SLOT OR A SCANNER.
I apologize.
I am out of control.
I am sad.
But I can't possibly be so deliberately bitchy with the people that raised me.....because I know that I'm just extremely angry now and must not make any rash decisions that will end up hurting me more.
Why this post then, you ask.
Well, first and foremost, this blog is where I dump my emotions when I'm scared my diary will be found and when I can't put into rhyme what I feel.....this is usually because feelings I write about are alien: pity for a fictional autistic boy: sorrow for the child who was dumped by his mother, when I really couldn't ever relate to her.
That's when I blog, when the feeling I'm experiencing hits me so deeply at my core, that I can't dissociate myself from it and put it into lyrical poetry.
I am deeply sad....not depressed, not despondent, none of those bigass words that older people use to describe a pure feeling that's been corrupted by the desire to sound intelligent.
I am just.....sad. The word a five year old uses. A seven year old. A six year old. I use the word sad because I feel that age now, when you just want to cry out of sheer frustration and despair.
I realize that as long as I live under the same roof as my father......I will never respect him.
When dad lived in KL and us in Brunei, he was objective and intelligent...he gave great advice that solved the problem.
Not advice that was tailored and effing cookie cut like out of some effing parenting book.
It's not just that.
He has this idiotic pathological need to be in control of situiations WHERE THERE WAS NO CONTROL ISSUE.
And to find fault where there IS none.
I wonder if he realizes that I'm the ONE daughter he hasn't managed to alienate with his condescension, his complete lack of tact, his unjustified need to find fault and character flaws where they DON'T EXIST. He has three.
"It's because you're at the AGE ma, where you feel your parents are always wrong! It's soon you'll realize how wrong you are!" I WILL NOT BE TURNED INTO THE FOOLISH, REBELLIOUS, PARANOID TEENAGER WHEN MY SENSE OF JUDGEMENT IS BETTER THAN ANYTHING YOU'VE DISPLAYED OVER THE PAST FEW MONTHS.
"Your butt is spending too long on the computer. I want you to go study NOW." I WILL NOT BE MADE TO FEEL LIKE THE LITTLE FLAWS I DISPLAY AS A NORMAL, STABLE INDVIDUAL MAGNIFY TO ENORMOUS PROPORTIONS AND SCAR ME, ESPECIALLY NOT AFTER SPENDING FOUR EFFING HOURS STUDYING.
"You see, you never help us. I TOLD you to get the photos on the computer! Why can't you do this ONE THING to help your parents!" I WILL NOT BE UNJUSTIFIEDLY MADE TO FEEL GUILTY FOR THINGS THAT AREN'T MY FAULT, AND ARE IN FACT DUE TO YOUR OWN STUPIDITY: I CAN'T GET PICTURES INTO A DAMN COMPUTER WITHOUT A USB OR A MEMORY CARD THAT FITS THE DAMN SLOT OR A SCANNER.
I apologize.
I am out of control.
I am sad.
Monday, October 16, 2006
It May Not Be True, But.....
I like to think that when I enter a room, heads turn to look at me. It may not be true, but I walk with a little more bounce in my step.
I like to think that I am the smartest little smartie smart in the whole world, and anyone who beats me academically did so by default. It may not be true, but it keeps me self motivated and filled with hope and faith for higher standards.
I like to think that my poetry is prodigious, ingenious, and NOT too long. It may not be true, but I write with a little more feeling and a little more passion.
I like to think that my hair is NOT a tangled mess of half-assed waves, but a luxuriant mass of classy curls. It may not be true, but I flip it with confidence.
I like to think that my body is the perfect shape. It may not be true, but it lets me look myself in the mirror and love and more importantly, ACCEPT whatever I see.
I like to think that chocolate is healthy. It may not be true, but you'll never find a happier person than me on a sugar high.
I like to think that I'll make a great doctor and change lives with my profession. It may not be true, but I work harder and faster to attain excellence in academics to make that dream come true.
I like to think that people, at their core, are generally good. It may not be true, but it gives me the added faith boost of a 4 year old child, and who really needs anything more?
I like to think that I make a difference and leave a fingerprint on the lives of people I come in contact with. It may not be true, but I strive to change the world and make people smile, knowing that a single smile could brighten a hundred faces.
I like to think that my skin is the perfect colour and texture. It may not be true, but it lets me accept, own and be proud of the race that bore me and the childhood problems that shaped me.
I like to think that my friends remember me and speak well of me long after I'm gone. It may not be true, but it allows me a support system that spans whole countries.
I like to think that a bad grade does not signal my own deterioration, but rather a misfortune to be accepted. It may not be true, but it allows me to not get down over every little fault, and fills me with fresh, fierce determination.
I like to think God loves me unconditionally. It may not.....no wait. This is one thing that will ALWAYS be true.
I like to think that I am the smartest little smartie smart in the whole world, and anyone who beats me academically did so by default. It may not be true, but it keeps me self motivated and filled with hope and faith for higher standards.
I like to think that my poetry is prodigious, ingenious, and NOT too long. It may not be true, but I write with a little more feeling and a little more passion.
I like to think that my hair is NOT a tangled mess of half-assed waves, but a luxuriant mass of classy curls. It may not be true, but I flip it with confidence.
I like to think that my body is the perfect shape. It may not be true, but it lets me look myself in the mirror and love and more importantly, ACCEPT whatever I see.
I like to think that chocolate is healthy. It may not be true, but you'll never find a happier person than me on a sugar high.
I like to think that I'll make a great doctor and change lives with my profession. It may not be true, but I work harder and faster to attain excellence in academics to make that dream come true.
I like to think that people, at their core, are generally good. It may not be true, but it gives me the added faith boost of a 4 year old child, and who really needs anything more?
I like to think that I make a difference and leave a fingerprint on the lives of people I come in contact with. It may not be true, but I strive to change the world and make people smile, knowing that a single smile could brighten a hundred faces.
I like to think that my skin is the perfect colour and texture. It may not be true, but it lets me accept, own and be proud of the race that bore me and the childhood problems that shaped me.
I like to think that my friends remember me and speak well of me long after I'm gone. It may not be true, but it allows me a support system that spans whole countries.
I like to think that a bad grade does not signal my own deterioration, but rather a misfortune to be accepted. It may not be true, but it allows me to not get down over every little fault, and fills me with fresh, fierce determination.
I like to think God loves me unconditionally. It may not.....no wait. This is one thing that will ALWAYS be true.
Sunday, October 08, 2006
5 Reasons Why I Can't Stand Anime
Alley, please don't hurt me, but:
5) They're drawn to sort of look like real people, but their features are sharper than butchers knives. Has anyone actually SEEN real Japanese people?!
4) I firmly believe this is a stunt by the Japanese people to take over yet ANOTHER aspect of our everyday lives. They've already got our electrical appliances and our educational standards, they're NOT TAKING DEXTER AWAY FROM ME.
3) I ALSO believe it's a rather sad stunt, again by the Japanese, to prove that they ARE a happy bunch of suicidal workaholics. It's like, where do these people have TIME to watch cartoons?!?
2) Their chicks are pretty. Their dudes are prettier.
AND THE NUMBER ONE REASON:
1) They've stolen the Jackass Award for Most Ridiculous Plotline from the Tamil people. (Come on....75 year old Brahmin priest with a 20 year old mistress or dude with a box of liquid for a mom?).
5) They're drawn to sort of look like real people, but their features are sharper than butchers knives. Has anyone actually SEEN real Japanese people?!
4) I firmly believe this is a stunt by the Japanese people to take over yet ANOTHER aspect of our everyday lives. They've already got our electrical appliances and our educational standards, they're NOT TAKING DEXTER AWAY FROM ME.
3) I ALSO believe it's a rather sad stunt, again by the Japanese, to prove that they ARE a happy bunch of suicidal workaholics. It's like, where do these people have TIME to watch cartoons?!?
2) Their chicks are pretty. Their dudes are prettier.
AND THE NUMBER ONE REASON:
1) They've stolen the Jackass Award for Most Ridiculous Plotline from the Tamil people. (Come on....75 year old Brahmin priest with a 20 year old mistress or dude with a box of liquid for a mom?).