the whiskey weekend

Night Festival was alright. The MC battle was going on pretty well until one of the contestant had to rely on racist comments to diss the other guy and boy did that infuriate us. I remember shouting something bordering on profanity before we decided to clear off and head to.... Rupee Room!

- the national museum during Night Fest -

The thing about going to a club where you don't understand the language is that nothing else matters - only the music. You don't care for the crowd, the drinks (the only reason you agreed to go in was cos you weren't exactly sober), the ambiance. You just want to dance. And Rupee Room doesn't fail to impress on that front. But you can't dance to Hindi songs all night right? And Gotham was nearby.

I never thought i would say this. But Gotham is off my list of nice clubs to hang out at. The Johannesburg dancers have become hardcore strippers. So that's kind of deteriorated into a sleazy nightspot. And I don't exactly like sleazy (or so I say). Everything was going fine, my favorite brunette was dancing to my favorite JT songs. Then everything changed when the "fireman" started playing with the fire hose (don't ask). And that prompted the male population (both smokers and non-smokers) to call for a smoking break.

- this is the brunette from Odyssey -

I think it's a compliment when long lost friends you bump into while clubbing greet you with a "DUDE! YOU'RE YOU! NO FRIGGIN' WAY!". It means I've come a long way. Pre-JC friends would be able to appreciate that.

Today, I found out that I aced summer term, but the only thing that came to my mind was the sombre realization that intelligence doesn't get you ahead all the time (yes, THAT is still bothering me). I must have made my indifference pretty obvious cos Mom sincerely asked if A+ was a good grade and I was expecting something better.

I think sincerity is forcing myself awake in the smashed state that I was in, struggling to dress up and look decently good, taking a cab down to town, rushing to attend a ceremony in a language I don't understand, just to make my presence felt. I wasn't planning for an awkward encounter, or an embarrassing conversation. I just wanted to BE there. So it can't just be an ego issue. Maybe, just maybe, it's something more. And that worries me.

Sigh... September is a long long way away. Abit sad eh.

the disease called 'Politics'

Politics. Most of life's about power and control, isn't it? At least, we make it out to be. It's a wonder why politicians allow us to refer to them by a word that has no positive connotations whatsoever as much as I know. And it's so pervasive. It's in EVERYTHING. Work, school, religion, sex (says Korn) and every other organization that's big enough. By big, I mean greater than one.

There's no such thing as nonpartisan. Neutrality is but a lofty goal. Politics is in the now. You HAVE to take sides. They force you to. Cos they treat you like you've already chosen. That is, if you're significant enough to be bothered about. Which is why, if anything, you should be honored when you get dragged into the game. You're significant. You're either a potential asset or threat. You mean something.

What then do you do? You revel in the fact that the choosing is done. Then you size everyone up. And you discover that you're on the side of Good. The less scheming. The intellects. The side with the subtle moves.

Cos sneers and contemptuous looks are for the weak.

(or you could just wait on the world to change)

the club with the really cheap booze

Headed down to DblO over the weekend and I must admit that it's a pretty awesome club/bar (second only to Gotham) if you manage to get a place to sit. Alternatively, you could party at the dancefloor all night if you don't mind the blaring speakers. And i do mean BLARING.

You can get pretty high spending just $50 on booze. To set things in perspective, a jug of standard housepour at other clubs will cost you $35-$42. Here, however, you pay just 12 friggin bucks. TWELVE. Only catch is the $20 cover charge that gets you no drinks at all. But still... friggin cheap. Not convinced? Ok. Consider 5 people who'll be satisfied with just a jug each. They head down to Government of Sound (GOS) and pay:

($20 cover + $35 jug) x 5 pax = $275

Then they head down to DblO the following weekend and pay:

($20 cover + $12 jug) x 5 pax = $$160

Then they kick themselves for spending an extra $100 bucks only to find themselves in an overcrowded room called Groove where the only dancing you have space to do is the dirty sort, and where the bartender takes 15mins to get your order (in comparison to the 5mins at DblO).

The resident DJ D'Timo-Jaka did spin a little too much house at times. But he made up for it with awesome R&B later on. And he does funny voice-overs. Not like some DJs I've seen who're more concerned with wanting to look cool. I'm sure sure you've met a few.

I learnt the theory behind folding DIY cigarettes. I also learnt that an all-guys clubbing group can be pretty fun afterall.

- Once again, WWI phone, so I had to kope the photo off the net-

Thank you for that glimmer of hope. It's nice to have hope, even if that hope is completely unfounded.

the time I kenna rejected

I'm not sure which is worse: losing someone or rejection. Considering how egotistical I am, and that I never actually had her in the first place, I'd have to say the latter. And that's an understatement. I never expected rejection to last this long. Am I not supposed to be a stoic? Or maybe I'm nothing more than a pseudo stoic; a wannabe stoic.

And that may not necessarily be a bad thing. Emotions provide that much-needed reminder that I'm only human. But the thing is, emotions are like a runaway train - out of control and headed for disaster. Is it better to be in control, then? I'm pretty sure that that too leads to disappointment. Remember the guy in Saw IV who wanted to save everyone? Therein lies the dilemma. And it will ALWAYS be.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained. So I should venture further, right? I’ve always liked challenges, anyway. Even one that seems unfathomable. Especially when there are no other mountains that I choose to see. But, really, I don’t quite see it as a challenge. I see it as something I want to do for now.

And if by sheer bad luck you’re reading this (COS SHIT HAPPENS), I’m no freak k? I’m just being.. me…. For a change.

whatever

Dear God,

Not funny.

Amen.

the lava-alba dream

When you work on an equity paper until 3am and fall asleep totally exhausted, you tend to have weird dreams. This is how mine went:

It begins in a particular classroom that resembles my science lab back during my ACS(I) days. It's an Economics course of some sort. And the professor is this Japanese lecturer I had to endure last semester (refer to April 5 post). Out of the blue, the professor comes up to me and tells me that we'll be having a surprise visit by some VIP and he suspects that I'd be VERY excited upon seeing him. Just as he says that, the VIP walks right in. And... begins his Benny Lava sequence. (for those of you who don't know, visit: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZA1NoOOoaNw).

- super cool la -
(i decided to remove the pic cos it.. well.. it doesn't go with the rest of the blog)

After he's done part of his sequence, he stops for photos and to sign autographs. Apparently, only the Indians (4 of us) show any interest and take countless photos with Prabhu Deva while the rest of the class continues with lesson, completely oblivious to what's going on at the front of the class. Class ends.

In the next scene, I'm in a convertible something driving to a petrol station. Arriving at the station, a group of hell riders with nunchucks and other weapons of sorts surround my brother (he just appeared. no idea how) and start to taunt him. I creep back into the car and slowly reverse away. Then I accelerate around the station before ramming right into the bikers, killing some, and dragging along one or two for some distance before finally killing them as well. Unfortunately, my brother is nowhere to be found.

Then we drive along. Just as mysteriously as my brother disappeared, my mother (or so it seems) appears in the back seat and starts sobbing quietly at the loss of my brother. I turn around and hug her and comfort her. Then I realise that my mom's actually Jessica Alba (of all the roles that she could have played).

- only almost-decent picture I could find. look closely-

I'm not sure how the rest of the dream went. One can only guess. But I'm prety sure that it was just plain wrong. Oh, has anyone heard my 'Incest should be legalised' speech before?

the brownies and the fillial children

The waiter at Pastamania was amusing us by doing karate actions while serving us. He looked Japanese. And my friend commented that he was wearing new pants cos she smelt the newness.

I received a bag of brownies today. I really like my brownies. I have more than one baker friend :)

Two of my friends are making me feel a tad unfilial. One is contemplating giving her parents $300 a month when she begins working. The other has made it her duty to take over the household finances the moment she graduates. Market spoilers, I tell you.

The more I think of how financially responsible these guys are, the more exasperated and infuriated I become with the financially irresponsible. But that's about all I can do. Bleah.

"I don't like it"

the hidden bar

Collected my Bombay Sapphire today. :):) Thank you, dear!

- it's English, not Indian -

You know you've patronized a restaurant too often when the manager recognizes you and starts joking with you. And that makes it harder to complain about service or anything else. Met up with a friend I hadn't seen in a LOOOONG while (and who had forgotten all about me, although she denies it). Had some DEEEEEP discussions about the usual things we talk about. She says that I'm the last person she'll come to for marriage advice :(

Finally found out what x Strip, xx Strip and xxx Strip mean.

Searched high and low for this bar my friend had told me about a couple of days ago. Ebar. He had said it was tucked away in a quiet corner of The Cathay. He was right. Found it eventually and what I saw was quite pleasing to the eye. I wouldn't call it a bar per se. It's more like a chill out spot. Very private.

- I'm holding on to a WW1 phone so here's something off the web. sorry-

Seems they play bossa nova and pop. (yes, awesome combination). And there's a nice Wii console right in the middle. The drinks were cheap. The music was alright. Well it was alright UNTIL they started playing house. Yes, the awful thumping music you hear at Cafe del Mar. but this music was special. the lyrics went like this:

He's my peace (yes he is)
He's my joy (yes he is)
He's my life (yes he is)
He's my braaadder (yes he is)

He's my soul (yes he is)
He's my love (yes he is)
He's my (inaudible noun) (yes he is)
He's my breath (yes he is)

Christian house.

Amen.

the way we deal with grief

I realise that I haven't been blogging about issues in a long while. So here goes.

For those of us who read the papers, you may know that on July 3, an SMU sailor fell out of the boat when returning to shore after training and went under never to resurface again. Two days later, his body was found.

I went to the guy's FB profile as soon as I found out because I'm never good with names and wanted to see if I knew the guy or had done a project with him before. This was on July 4, a day after he went missing and his body was not yet found. The following testimonials caught my eye:

• "please come back and kick my ass for being your lousy faci for meta camp 07"
• "Hey you... Gay partner... Where are you? Come back soon.. waiting for you to come back to continue our gayness... Am SURE that you will be back!"
• "we still got BKT to eat.. we still got SE to take.. where are you?"
• "BRO! Where are you, come back! We need to talk about THE OFFICE man."
• "hey.. come out ald.. I'm waiting for you to pop out of no where and laugh at me for falling for your prank. Come back and throw away the kopitiam cup u left in the Rlab. Dont litter! or will come after you. Nobody is going to clean it up for you u know, come back and clean your table up!"

And the following day, when the body was found, this appeared:

• "To the other 4 kids on the boat who did nothing when (he) went under the water, u r either some idiots or just plain pussies."

Reading these testimonials, I was appalled by the lack of sensitivity for the guy. Imagine if those testimonials were said out, instead of posted on FB. Imagine how weird it would have been to have to hear things like that when you're at a wake or funeral service. Imagine what his parents would have felt. People trying to inject humor into grief, or people trying to look for someone to blame. (and if nobody is found to be at blame, there's always that punching bag called God)

A few days later, still disturbed by the fact that SMU undergrads could be so insensitive and immature, it dawned upon me that maybe it wasn't an issue of sensitivity. It's just our way of dealing with grief. Some cry, some joke, some clam up, some blame, some become aloof, some give up, some go bonkers. Maybe the only person who was insensitive was me - for thinking that they were insensitive. They were, after all, friends of his and going through a tough time while I was just an onlooker.

How would I deal with grief? I guess I'd just be plain stoic about the whole episode. And I'd keep myself busy. I wouldn't be surprised if I don't even turn up at the wake when someone dear to me passes on.

I find comfort in solitude.

the bats, the birthday and the barney

The group tt accompanied me on the grange road haunted house escapade expanded to include 5 others and we headed down to 2 other scary looking colonial buildings near the botanical gardens. I was being an idiot and trying to scare some already-shit-scared people. I don't think it worked, though. The second house was REALLLY smelly. Had bat droppings all over. The group hesitated to go up the flight of stairs to the second floor cos the smell seemed to be emanating from there. We didn't exactly want to discover a rotting corpse, you see. After some deliberation, we finally went up and discovered the gruesome source of the smell....

- these are bats. dead, rotting, stinking bats. a whole room -

Had a surprise 21st birthday for a friend. I'm not sure if he was entirely surprised. But I skipped class just to help out so I'd like to think that he was. The cake was AWESOME. I have a baker friend. Thank you, baker-friend. :)

- awesome cake. seriously awesome -

I attended a baby shower and saw Barney. He sang the "I love you, you love me" song. I wanted to whack his head. Oh, then there was the dance floor. I'm getting old. i must have danced to 4 songs at most. But my body ached all night.

The church wall scratched my car on Sunday :( I just might sue. :(:(:(

the shit-scary day

So we decided to head back to the haunted house. This time with a different group. And we were armed with a trusty torchlight and two umbrellas. Drove down to town at 2am, got lost for a bit (typical me). As ominous as it sounds, it began pouring just as we entered town. As though someone was trying to tell us something. We finally found the place and parked at the 'NO ENTRY OR BE PROSECUTED' sign and waited. And waited. And I was thinking aloud about how awesome it would be if it were only me and a girl in the car, much to the disgust of the others.

Rain finally slowed to a drizzle and we headed up the long windy road to the house. Eerie tapping sounds greeted us at the entrance. Still we persisted (after almost running away). The sounds turned out to be rain droplets on an empty beer can. I found it really cool that the staircase in that old, dilapidated house was carpeted. Either that, or it was mould. But it looked nice. We were doing alright until one of us decided to open the umbrella and stand under it while still inside the house. That was enough to freak me out, and freak the rest out in the process. So we scooted, shit-scared.

We sort of covered the whole first floor. So that's some progress. 2 more floors to go. See pics below. (Since i'm receiving complaints that my blog is too wordy. hmph.)

- Check out the eerie blue glow -

- i see a head. can you? spooky -

Finally collected my bottle of Absolut Mango today. :) Thanks, buddy!

Oh. I saw three days' worth of human feces at the lift landing of my friend's place. Seriously, the culprit has some serious issues, other than constipation and involuntary bowel movements.

Today left us shit-scared, indeed.

Il Christo Degli Abissi

Beneath the calm waters of Key Largo Dry Rocks, Florida lies a humble nine feet bronze sculpture called 'Il Christo Delgli Abissi', which is Italian for 'The Christ of the Abyss'. I intend to visit it some day.

"If I take the wings of the morning,
and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea;
even there shall thy hand lead me,
and thy right hand shall hold me."

Some day....